In a world that worships hustle and headlines, single mothers are the unsung soldiers, fighting invisible wars daily, with no medals, no ovations, and often, no help. Nigerian-American actress Faith Itohanβs soul-searing drama Udochi, a masterpiece, steps into that silence with a raw voice. And when viewed alongside Tyler Perryβs Straw, starring Taraji P. Henson, these two films donβt just tell stories, they peel back the skin of societal neglect to show us the bleeding, beating heart of motherhood.

βUdochiββ A Mirror of Nigerian-American Realities

In Udochi, Faith Itohan, who also leads the film delivers a performance thatβs not just gripping but deeply lived. She plays a woman stretched so thin by life that sheβs almost transparent. Like many single mothers experience, Udochi is fighting to hold her world together, raising children, battling loneliness, and wrestling with economic injustice.
This film doesnβt blink. It shows you every late-night breakdown, every bill unpaid, every prayer whispered through clenched teeth. It is not just a story, it is a reflection of countless real-life mothers who are both caregivers and warriors.
The Motherhood Tax: Invisible, Unpaid, Unappreciated

Where Udochi thrives is in its portrayal of what society rarely wants to acknowledge: motherhood as labor, often unsupported and emotionally isolating. We see how Udochi, like so many women, becomes the scaffolding of an entire household, sacrificing her own dreams for survival.

And thatβs where Straw connects. Taraji P. Hensonβs Janiyah in Tyler Perryβs Straw is the American cousin to Udochi, both victims of a society that expects women to bend but never break. Janiyahβs descent into desperation after losing her job and housing is not just dramatic itβs real. Itβs the unspoken scream of thousands of women who are asked to suffer in silence and smile through their storms
Faith Itohan vs. Taraji P. Henson: Two Queens, One Truth

What unites Itohan and Henson isnβt just talent itβs truth. They act with a kind of pain that canβt be faked, drawing from the same well of real, raw womanhood. While Janiyah breaks down under the weight of hallucinated hope in Straw, Udochi endures a different kind of slow collapse one fueled by years of cultural shame, gendered expectations, and generational silence.

Both characters represent the intersection of strength and vulnerability. They are women who love fiercely but are allowed no space to fall apart. Their tears are private. Their strength is public. Their pain? Ignored.
What These Films Are Really Saying

Udochi and Straw force us to confront an ugly truth: our systems, be they African, American, or diasporic are failing mothers. There are no support structures, no mental health lifelines, and no communal shoulders left for them to lean on.
They beg the question: Why must a mother lose everything before sheβs seen?
Why do we only recognize her worth when she breaks?
Why is her pain so normalized that it becomes background noise?
A Call to Culture & Policy

These films are more than entertainment theyβre cultural indictments. Udochi calls out the Nigerian cultural stigmas that demand perfection from mothers. Straw calls out the American systems that push Black women into economic desperation.

Faith Itohanβs Udochi is not just a film, itβs a cry for intergenerational healing, for policy reform, for community rebuilding. And like Straw, itβs a cinematic sermon reminding us: no woman should have to choose between sanity and survival.

Finally, thereβs something poetic in how Udochi and Straw speak to one another, two films from different worlds that echo the same truth. They donβt offer easy endings or fix-all solutions. But they shine a light. They give voice. They bear witness.
In these stories, we see not just mothers, but pillars. Women who carry the weight of the world, yet still make breakfast the next day. If weβre truly watching, maybe weβll stop asking them to carry it alone.
Watch Udochi now on Faith Itohan 247. Watch it not just to feel, but to understand. Because when we listen to a motherβs pain, we start building a world that no longer punishes her for carrying it.
Written by Adesina Kasali
Production Consultant | Media Strategist | Advocate for Purposeful Storytelling