By Caroline Ntumba
On a quiet evening in Tanzania’s commercial capital, Congolese actor and musician Anzor Alem scrolls through his phone, looking at film festival lineups he cannot attend.
His career, like that of many young African creatives, is suspended between growing international recognition and the structural barriers that continue to weaken the continent’s film industry.
“Talent is not the problem,” Alem says.
“It’s the system that prevents stories from traveling.”
Across Africa, the film industry is experiencing what the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has called a “paradox of growth”: unprecedented visibility abroad but fragile foundations at home.
Nollywood produces thousands of titles each year and South Africa boasts advanced studios, yet most African filmmakers face a scarcity of screens, limited financing, and political or cultural restrictions.
Economic Fragility despite Visibility
According to a 2021 UNESCO report, Africa averages just one cinema screen per 787,000 people, compared to one per 8,000 in the United States (Le Monde).
The lack of infrastructure forces directors to depend on festivals or streaming platforms, which often pay less and reduce control over intellectual property.
Financial obstacles remain the most pressing issue.
Nigerian critic Wilfred Okiche, writing in the Financial Times, described how unstable exchange rates and the absence of international co-production treaties undermine long-term investment (FT).
“African film doesn’t lack ambition,” Okiche noted. “It lacks the ecosystem that allows ambition to thrive.”
Cultural Gatekeeping and Global Perceptions
Even when African films reach prestigious festivals, their visibility often comes with constraints.
In The Guardian, Kenyan journalist Maimouna Jallow observed that Cannes and Sundance selections tend to favor stories centered on conflict, poverty, or oppression, leaving lighter or more diverse narratives underrepresented (The Guardian).
For actors like Alem, this can mean adjusting their work to meet expectations of “marketable suffering.”
“We also want to tell stories of joy, love, and humor,” he says. “But those stories rarely cross borders.”
Censorship and Political Pressure
Censorship continues to cast a long shadow. At the Marrakech International Film Festival, a Q&A session for the Moroccan film Cabo Negro was abruptly canceled amid fears of backlash over its portrayal of a same-sex relationship, according to AP News (AP).
In many African countries, regulatory boards maintain strict control over which films reach the public, discouraging directors from tackling socially sensitive themes.
Anzor Alem Career as a Case Study
Alem’s own trajectory reflects these contradictions.
A rising figure in Congolese arts, his opportunities have been shaped less by lack of talent than by the precarious environment in which he works.
Administrative hurdles, scarce funding, and limited local distribution have kept many of his projects from gaining visibility, despite his recognition abroad.
For him and many others, digital platforms provide a partial lifeline.
Streaming giants have begun commissioning African productions, but analysts warn that without local infrastructure and strong intellectual property protections, the continent risks becoming merely a supplier of raw content to global players.
A Continent at a Crossroads
Observers argue that solutions require policy reform, coordinated investment, and stronger cultural institutions.
The BBC recently reported that while the African film sector is growing, it remains “fragile,” with an untapped potential estimated at billions (BBC Afrique).
For Alem, the stakes are deeply personal. “Our stories matter,” he says. “But unless the system changes, too many of them will stay locked inside Africa.”
As Africa’s creative industries strive for a sustainable future, Alem’s struggle offers a reminder: the global celebration of African cinema cannot mask the urgent need for structural reform at home.
Caroline Ntumba is an independent journalist