In the bustling neighbourhoods of Plateau and Kwara states, a unique radio drama is capturing the hearts and minds of listeners, sparking conversations about civil society, human rights and community empowerment. Titled Na We Be Dis, the series is not just entertainment—it’s a movement. With its relatable characters, everyday Pidgin English, and compelling storytelling, the drama is breaking down complex ideas about civil society and making them accessible to everyone, from market traders to university graduates.
Produced under the Art Rights Truth project, a collaboration between the University of York’s Centre for Applied Human Rights, Jos Repertory Theatre (JRT) and Brain Builders Youth Development Initiative (BBYDI), Na We Be Dis is more than a radio show. It’s a tool for social change, airing four times a week on two radio stations and already generating buzz across the region.
One of the most striking features of Na We Be Dis is its use of Pidgin English, a language that transcends ethnic, educational and social divides in Nigeria. While English remains the official language, Pidgin has emerged as a unifying force, spoken fluently by millions across the country. The drama leverages this linguistic versatility to deliver its message in a way that resonates deeply with its audience.
The protagonist, Abigail, a young National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) member, embodies this approach. Posted to a sleepy community for her mandatory service year, Abigail finds herself living in a crowded compound filled with tenants from diverse backgrounds. Her character is educated but relatable, using simple, straightforward language to explain concepts like civil society, human rights and collective action.
“Abigail doesn’t speak down to anyone,” says one of the show’s producers. “She meets people where they are, and that’s what makes her so effective. She’s not just a character; she’s a role model for how we can all engage with our communities.”
The drama is set in a typical Nigerian “face-me-I-face-you” compound, a shared living space where tenants rent single rooms and share common amenities like water, electricity and a communal gate. This setting serves as a metaphor for the larger society, highlighting the challenges and opportunities of communal living.
In the compound, tensions arise over basic amenities—who fixes the gate? Who ensures there’s water? These seemingly small issues often lead to disagreements, reflecting broader societal struggles. Enter Abigail, who uses her knowledge of civil society principles to mobilise her fellow tenants. She encourages them to take ownership of their space, fostering a sense of responsibility and unity.
One of the most contentious issues in the series is the landlord’s decision to ban music after 7pm. The tenants are divided—some support the ban, while others oppose it but remain silent out of fear. Abigail steps in, educating her neighbours about their rights and organising them into a “Tenants Council.” Through collective advocacy, they successfully negotiate a compromise, pushing the music curfew to 10pm.
This storyline underscores a key theme of the drama: the power of collective action. “The compound is a microcosm of society,” explains a producer from BBYDI. “It shows how people can come together, despite their differences, to demand fairness and respect.”
The landlord, a central character in the series, represents the traditional authority figures who often wield power without accountability. He sets arbitrary rules, threatening tenants with eviction if they don’t comply. His initial resistance to the Tenants Council reflects a common dynamic in Nigerian society, where those in power often dismiss the voices of the marginalised.
However, Abigail’s persistence and the tenants’ unity eventually force the landlord to reconsider his approach. This narrative arc highlights the importance of dialogue and negotiation in resolving conflicts, offering a hopeful vision of how civil society can hold authority figures accountable.
The timing of Na We Be Dis couldn’t be more relevant. Nigeria, like many countries, is grappling with issues of governance, inequality and social cohesion. The drama’s focus on self-reliance, dignity and collective action resonates deeply in a context where many feel let down by their leaders.
“The series is a call to action,” says a representative from JRT. “It reminds us that we don’t have to wait for the government to solve all our problems. We can take charge of our lives and communities, and that’s what civil society is all about.”
Listeners have already begun to respond. Dedicated phone lines set up for audience feedback are buzzing with calls, many praising the show for its relatable characters and practical lessons. “This drama has opened my eyes,” says one caller. “I never knew we could come together like this to solve our problems.”
The Na We Be Dis radio drama is part of the broader Art Rights Truth project, which seeks to explore the relationship between civil society, human rights, and individual agency. By using art—in this case, radio drama—the project aims to spark conversations and inspire action.
“Art has a unique ability to communicate complex ideas in a way that’s accessible and engaging,” says Dr. Patrick-Jude Oteh, Artistic Director of the Jos Repertory Theatre, “Through Na We Be Dis, we’re not just talking about civil society; we’re showing what it looks like in action.”
As Na We Be Dis continues to air, its impact is likely to grow. The drama’s success lies in its ability to blend entertainment with education, using relatable stories to convey powerful messages. It’s a model that could be replicated in other regions and contexts, offering a blueprint for how art can drive social change.
For now, the people of Plateau and Kwara states are tuning in, laughing, learning and imagining a better future. And as Abigail would say, “Na we be dis”—it’s up to us to make it happen.