Ajosepo is a Nollywood dramedy directed by Kayode Kasum that hit cinemas last year and delivered more than just wedding jitters; it gave us spiritual entanglements, generational trauma, and some good old Yoruba family mess.
Set in a single day and built around a supposedly simple wedding, the film spirals into full-blown comedic chaos with secrets, curses, and awkward family reunions.
Plot
“Will you marry me?” That’s how it all begins. Dapo pops the question to Tani, and of course, she says yes. Fast forward to the present: the wedding is upon them, and the house is buzzing. Not with excitement, no. With pressure, secrets, and enough emotional landmines to blow up the entire ceremony.
Dapo’s family? A walking, talking, don’t-bring-them-to-public-events mess. Divorced parents, a manipulative mother with a temper, and a father who should come with a womaniser warning label. Meanwhile, Tani’s family is squeaky-clean, Bible-quoting, fasting-and-praying, picture-perfect. And her father? He doesn’t know the groom’s folks are divorced. That’s a no-no in his holy book.
So what’s the plan? Hide the mess. Stuff the madness in hotel rooms. Only “approved” family members in the main house. What could go wrong? Everything.
The first disaster strikes when Dapo’s mom refuses to allow her friends to stay at the hotel. She arrives, entourage in tow, demanding to bunk in the house. Tani holds the line: hotel or nothing. This escalates fast. Public shouting. Embarrassment. The groom is caught between his overbearing mother and his no-nonsense fiancée. Everyone’s simmering.
Meanwhile, Dapo’s father, unable to keep it zipped, stumbles into an old flame, who happens to be Tani’s uncle’s wife. What begins as a sneaky quickie turns into full-blown horror when he discovers he’s been Magun’ed.
Yes, the curse.
For the uninitiated: Magun is a powerful Yoruba charm placed by a husband to catch a cheating wife. Once triggered, it binds the cheating lovers together mid-act, sometimes fatally. Now, the groom’s dad and the uncle’s wife are literally stuck. Cue panic.
Dapo’s friend (a doctor), Tani (also a doctor), and even the paramedics – nobody can fix this. Because it’s not medical, it’s spiritual. There’s only one person who can break the curse: Tani’s uncle, the cuckolded husband himself.
He arrives. He sees. He explodes. Betrayed and humiliated, he unleashes hell. But after venting and sobbing and threatening holy fire, he agrees to lift the curse. Except, plot twist: he forgets the incantation. Now Tani’s mom enters the picture. The evangelist. The Jesus mama.
Apparently, she was the one who encouraged her brother to place the Magun in the first place. This revelation sends shockwaves through the family. The woman who judges sin with a raised eyebrow is now revealed to be a spiritual war strategist.
To lift the curse for real, they bring in a disguised babalawo, pretending to be a priest. It’s a chaotic, hilarious scene, but eventually, the curse is broken.
In the middle of all this madness, the brothers Dapo and Jide finally talk. Jidin reveals the truth about their dad: that despite his flaws, he paid school fees, contributed to the wedding, and wasn’t the deadbeat the mom painted. For the first time in years, the brothers bond. So do the families. The chaos gives way to healing. Meanwhile, Dapo and Tani decided to tell her father the truth about Dapo’s parents. Fortunately for them, the father already knew and had come to terms with it long before.
The wedding holds. Vows are exchanged. Smiles all around.
Cast
Tani played by Tomike Adeoye. Tomike came through with a balanced, if slightly undercooked, performance. You couldn’t exactly shout, “She nailed it!” but you also couldn’t fault her completely. She played it safe, maybe too safe. There was a calm consistency to her delivery, which, while steady, lacked the kind of emotional peaks the role sometimes demanded.
Dapo was played by Mike Afolarin. Now this is what you call a cool breeze in a chaotic storm. He brought that signature effortless charm to the table. His acting wasn’t in-your-face, but it didn’t need to be. He knows how to soften a scene, how to melt into it and make it human. Nothing overacted. Nothing forced. Just smooth, believable energy that grounded the story.
Jide was played by Timini Egbuson. He brought some big brother energy to the screen, and you felt it. There was a maturity to his presence, and the way he bounced off the rest of the cast.
The Babalawo was played by Ibrahim Yekini. Now, let’s talk about scene-stealing. Ibrahim Yekini ate this role up. He was hilarious and chaotic and somehow managed to make a spiritual intervention the funniest part of the film. That entrance alone? Legendary.
Deyemi Okanlawon played Tani’s uncle. He held his own and added a touch of emotional weight to the otherwise comical spiral.
Tani’s mom was played by Mercy Aigbe. Mercy didn’t just play this role; she performed it. From her exaggerated holy-laughter moments to her shady interjections.
Dapo’s mom was played by Ronke Oshodi Oke. Ronke is always dependable for loud, unfiltered, take-no-prisoners mother roles, and she did not disappoint.
Dapo’s dad, played by Yemi Solade. Let’s just crown him MVP, shall we? From sugar-daddy charm to helpless curse victim, Yemi was a delight. His scenes had range; he made you laugh, cringe, pity, and enjoy him all at once. And that stuck with the other woman with Bisola Aiyeola? Absolutely believable. It was the most committed physical performance in the film, and honestly, he deserves his flowers.
Language
A healthy blend of Yoruba and English, with the right dash of local flavour. The code-switching made conversations feel organic, and the Yoruba-infused insults and expressions gave the film real cultural seasoning.
Final take
Visually, Ajosepo was clean. Picture quality? On point. Costumes? Colourful and expressive. Setting? Realistic enough.
But then, the storyline stumbled out of the gate. The beginning dragged like a suitcase with a broken wheel; you kept waiting for the destination but weren’t sure what direction we were even going. When the plot finally picked up, we were smacked with a left-field twist: a spiritual sex curse. That shift in tone from slow-burn family drama to comic juju chaos was wild. Was it funny? Yes. Was it expected? Not even a little. But was it coherent? Debatable.
Also, the extras were doing too much. Their background reactions felt choreographed, loud, and almost theatrical, like stage actors lost on a movie set. It broke the realism in some scenes.
The cast ensemble definitely carried the movie. They made the one-location chaos feel alive. But the writers should’ve done better with pacing and clarity. Still, in the end, Ajosepo is what it says it is: hilarious, over-the-top, and pure entertainment.
