I didn’t just happen upon the comedy show, Visa on Arrival.
My sister introduced it to me one day as I was aimlessly flipping through TV channels, feeling quite bored.
She commandeered the remote and declared, “You’ll enjoy this comedy show.”
Comedies aren’t usually my thing.
Nonetheless, my sister queued up the series on YouTube, and upon seeing Bovi’s face, I was doubtful.
To me, he epitomized certain Nigerian comedians who had exhausted their repertoire of good jokes, and I had no appetite for stale humour.
However, Accelerate TV and its team of writers, with Bovi at the helm, caught me off guard with their wit.
Their unique blend of real-life drama and biting humour had me in stitches.
The cast’s authenticity and their characters’ spiteful antics are so convincing, that one might think they are just as nasty in real life.
Who are these actors?
Who cast them so perfectly in roles they inhabit so convincingly that I can’t help but believe they are their characters in reality?
They are portrayed by Taymesan as Okoro, Dat Warrigirl as Charity, The real Warri Pikin, and Bovi as Francis. These aren’t even their real names. For those familiar with the cast, it’s known they go by their stage names, staying in character even off the set of Visa on Arrival.
Let me explain the premise of the show.
It revolves around a fictional visa office manned by civil servants tasked with issuing visas to Nigerians travelling overseas. The concept is both inventive and relatable. It’s humorous to see how these characters exercise their authority—often with judgement, unsolicited advice, and even spiritual insight. Charity’s knack for spotting demons in prospective travellers brings an element of surprise and maybe not as we know people like this!
As visa officers, they process documents and passports, wielding the power to grant visas… and this authority extends to any destination…
The episodes I’ve watched so far have been side-splitting. I can’t say I’ve seen even half of what’s available on YouTube, not to mention the brief clips on Facebook feeds.
The show parodies the everyday Nigerian who, upon receiving power, lords it over others, even those of higher status. Francis, in one episode, boasts to a famed Nollywood actor that he can deny him a visa, just as he has to other more prominent and wealthier Nigerians. He told another would-be traveller, “You’re smelling of arrogance.”
The series’ charm lies in its inclusion of Nigerians from all walks of life, featuring familiar faces.
With each episode, viewers receive a slice of Nigerian life, all tied to the pursuit of visas. The main characters are judgemental, opinionated and prone to dispensing unsolicited advice unrelated to their roles as visa officers, adding to the show’s humour.
Charity, for instance, is quick to diagnose would-be travellers with demonic afflictions, offering spiritual advice that often sways visa outcomes. Known as Sharity, she takes offence easily. In an episode, she once said to a travelling family who wanted to go to Mexico, “Why Mexico, it is a waste of funds…you should come to the Benevolence department in my church and donate to charitable causes…what you are looking for in Mexico, you will find in Obudu Cattle Ranch.”
Francis enjoys his perceived authority, taking pleasure in denying visas to celebrities, underscoring the ridiculousness of power dynamics. It serves as a reminder that leadership extends beyond government officials to anyone with influence. Francis said to a budding artiste in an episode:
Francis: “You know Wizkid, star boy, the day he came here, that’s where he sat. everybody was jumping all over him…I didn’t move until I saw reason to give him visa. you know Burna boy? The day he came here with his momager, the day they came here…I kept them waiting…all their energy, I leaked their battery… all their energy came down”.
This is the typical Nigerian, who flexes, once he has a taste of power.
Okoro is another character who conceals his arrogance behind a facade of modesty. His good looks are a tool for deception. Once he realises the person before him does not have influence outside the walls of their office, he brings out the devil in him. Like when he was attending to a band of musicians. He mocked them for being talentless, telling them he even denied Davido a visa. He insisted that the band perform their latest songs to him before he grants them a visa.
The band displeased him and he threatened to deny them visas. He offered unsolicited advice, insisting the band boys did not know the difference between Nigeria and Britain. He then shooed the “talentless” band out of his sight.
The characters exemplify the misuse of leadership positions in Nigeria. Leadership isn’t confined to government; it encompasses all who wield influence.
They seem to believe that power absolves them of responsibility.
However, power entails responsibility, as Peter Parker’s uncle in Marvel’s Spider-Man cautions the hero.
The dynamics of barely concealed self-righteousness, the thin veneer of hypocrisy, and the myriad ways in which this show reveals the power bestowed upon the everyday Nigerian are profoundly depicted.
