The on-going controversy surrounding the proposed remake or new film on Soun Ogunlola, “Ogbori-Elemoso,” and the vehement objections by legendary actor Chief Lere Paimo presents a profound paradox in Nigerian intellectual property law. It reveals the stark tension between the clean, formalistic logic of statutory copyright and the messy, human-centric principles of moral rights and cultural legacy. While the new producers, Fewchore Studios, advance a technically coherent legal argument, a deeper jurisprudential analysis suggests that dismissing Chief Paimo’s claims on purely formal grounds would be a grave misapplication of the full spirit of copyright law.
To be clear, the position of Fewchore Studios rests on a bedrock copyright principle: facts, history, and titles are in the public domain. They correctly assert that no one can own the historical narrative of Soun Ogunlola, the founder of Ogbomoso. Their project, they state, is an original work derived from independent research, not a frame-by-frame remake of Chief Paimo’s original film. They further highlight a significant evidentiary point: there appears to be no registered copyright or trademark for “Ogbori-Elemoso” in Chief Paimo’s name. From a narrow, formalist perspective, this appears a compelling case. If they copy no protected expression, they arguably infringe no economic copyright. This strict legal logic frames the interaction with Chief Paimo – including the offer and subsequent refund of a ₦7.5 million “goodwill gift” – as a courtesy, not a legal necessity.
However, to stop the analysis at pure legalism is to ignore the very heart of intellectual property law in Nigeria: the protection of the creator’s persona and reputation. This is where the doctrine of moral rights, as enshrined in section 14 of the Nigerian Copyright Act 2022, becomes paramount. Moral rights under the provision cover, amongst others, audiovisual works (previously termed “cinematograph films” under the 2004 repealed Act).
In Nigeria, as in most countries, copyright protection is automatic. It is not necessarily protected by any requirement of registration or formality (copyright is different from patent or trademark). Thus, the moment an idea is expressed in a “fixed” form such as writing a story on paper, printing/typing electronically as I am doing now, writing a song, making a video or film, or saving a digital file, copyright – including moral rights – attaches to that work immediately. The moral rights in this context consist primarily of two aspects: the right of paternity (the right to be identified as the author) and the right of integrity (the right to object to derogatory treatment of the work).
Without a doubt, Chief Paimo’s life is inextricably woven into the fabric of “Ogbori-Elemoso” and Soun Ogunlola. It has earned him, amongst many recognitions, the chieftaincy title “Are Arobajo of Ogbomoso,” national honour (MFR), and his enduring screen persona “Eda Onile Ola”. Therefore, any new or remake film on the same historical figure, produced without his connection or against his will, arguably constitutes a severe violation of his moral right of paternity protected by section 14 of the 2022 Act. Such violations clearly disconnect the work from its most iconic author in the public mind. Furthermore, if the new film or remake were to distort the narrative in a way he finds objectionable, his moral right of integrity could also be engaged.
The legal protection for Chief Paimo extends beyond statutory copyright into the common law tort of passing off. This action protects the goodwill a producer has built with the public. For decades, the name “Ogbori-Elemoso” in the context of film has communicated one thing to the Nigerian, nay global, public: Chief Lere Paimo’s seminal performance. This is the “goodwill” attached to that creative expression. If the new film creates a “misrepresentation” in the marketplace – leading a significant portion of the public to believe it is a remake, revival, or is endorsed by the legend himself – it could be “calculated to injure” his legacy and goodwill, which is the core of a passing-off claim. The producers’ argument that they are only using the historical title is legally thin if public perception firmly associates that title with a specific artistic source.
Therefore, the payment of ₦7.5 million, framed as a “gift,” is a fact that cuts against the producers in a deeper legal analysis. In litigation, this could be presented not as mere generosity, but as tacit recognition of a pre-existing claim to legitimacy and association that they felt compelled to acknowledge. Chief Paimo’s subsequent refund of the money upon legal advice reinforces the position that this was not a settlement of rights, but a rejection of the attempt to sideline his moral and legacy-based claims.
Ultimately, this dispute transcends a simple copyright checklist. It is a clash between custodianship of history and custodianship of legacy. His Royal Majesty, Oba Ghandi Olaoye, the Soun of Ogbomoso, is rightfully the custodian of the historical facts and lineage of Soun Ogunlola. However, Chief Lere Paimo has, through a lifetime of artistry and sacrifice, become the cultural custodian of a specific, powerful, and beloved interpretation of that history. The 2022 Act, through its provision for moral rights, is sophisticated enough to protect this. To reduce this to a binary question of “who owns history?” is to ignore the layered reality of how culture is made and sustained. A truly just and culturally respectful resolution would not side-step the veteran artiste but would find a way to honour the throne while fully respecting the irreplaceable legacy of the artiste who first brought this history to life for generations of Nigerians. The law, in its highest application, should facilitate this harmony, not legitimise its rupture.
Hopefully, HRM Oba Ghandi Olaoye, the Soun of Ogbomoso, will hasten to descalate yet another controversy that is now inextricably linked to him.
– Misbau Alamu Lateef, Ph.D.
