Charles Inojie Slams Decline in Nollywood Standards, Claims “There’s No Actress Anymore, Just Nyash”

Veteran Nollywood actor and filmmaker Charles Inojie has sparked widespread controversy after a blunt and explosive critique of what he calls the “collapse of talent” in today’s Nigerian film industry.

In a recent conversation that has now gone viral, Charles didn’t hold back, stating that Nollywood is no longer a space where acting ability is prioritized—especially among female actors.

According to him, most of the new-generation actresses aren’t there because of skill or passion, but because of their physical appearance and the attention it attracts.

“There’s no actress in Nollywood again.

All we have is nyash,” Charles said bluntly, using the popular Nigerian slang for buttocks.

“These actresses you see don’t go for auditions anymore.

They don’t know anything.”

According to the respected actor, what used to be a highly competitive space where talent, dedication, and experience determined success has now turned into a marketplace where image overshadows ability.

He claimed that in today’s Nollywood, having a big backside and the right connections often matters more than being able to act.

“All they know is walking around with their big nyash and boom—next thing, they’ve gotten a car, a house, and luxury trips,” he added.

“It’s no longer about the script, the performance, or the message of the film.

It’s now about flaunting what you’ve got to get what you want.”

His statements have since drawn mixed reactions from the public and within the entertainment industry.

Some have praised Charles for speaking up and calling out what they believe is the uncomfortable truth many insiders refuse to address.

Others have accused him of generalizing and disrespecting hardworking women who are genuinely trying to build careers in Nollywood.

Charles went on to clarify that he was not condemning every actress, but rather the growing trend that rewards appearance over effort.

“Just a few of them can proudly say they worked for what they have,” he said.

“The rest just need to have a nyash that is shaking to sleep with almost all producers.”

This part of his statement triggered intense backlash on social media, with many saying it painted the entire industry with a dark, unethical brush.

However, it also led to honest conversations about the behind-the-scenes practices in Nollywood that many believe have existed for years but are rarely spoken about openly.

Some female actors came forward to defend themselves and the younger generation.

One rising actress posted on her Instagram story, “Some of us attend acting workshops, rehearse for days, and give our all to every role.

We’re not shaking nyash for roles—we’re working.”
Another veteran actress chimed in, saying, “There may be truth in what Charles is saying, but it’s unfair to silence the real talents still fighting to be seen in this industry.”

The conversation around “casting couch culture” in Nollywood is not new.

For years, whispers of producers demanding sexual favors in exchange for roles have circulated, though few have dared to address it openly.

Charles’ statement has reopened that wound, forcing both industry professionals and fans to examine how far the entertainment space has veered from merit and craft.

Many fans and critics have now begun asking important questions.

Why are there no structured auditions for most major Nollywood projects?
Why are new faces often more popular for their social media profiles than their acting ability?
Why do influencers with no acting background get lead roles while trained actors are left struggling?

Some blame the monetization of social media and the rise of viral fame for changing the dynamics of casting in Nollywood.

In a world where Instagram followers and body image often dictate visibility, film producers are said to favor those who can “trend,” regardless of whether they can act.

This new fame economy, critics say, has transformed Nollywood into a playground of popularity contests rather than a space for storytelling and artistry.

Charles, who has decades of experience on stage and screen, represents an older generation of actors who earned their place through theater, auditions, rehearsals, and years of persistence.

To see that culture replaced by shortcuts and transactional fame is, to him, disheartening.

He argued that if nothing changes, Nollywood risks losing its identity and cultural relevance.

“We used to tell real stories,” Charles said.

“Stories that made people cry, laugh, reflect.

Now it’s just party scenes, filtered bodies, and fake luxury.”

Though many agreed with his sentiments, they also called on him and others in his position to mentor the next generation instead of just criticizing them.

One fan commented, “We appreciate the honesty, Uncle Charles.

But please, create platforms to train and empower real talent.

Lead the change you want to see.”

Interestingly, some producers have also weighed in anonymously, saying the pressure to cast viral influencers comes from marketing demands.

According to them, films with popular names, regardless of acting quality, tend to get more attention and better funding from investors.

This puts them in a difficult position—choose skill or choose social reach?

As the conversation grows louder, one thing is certain: Charles Inojie has struck a nerve.

His outburst may have been raw, but it has ignited a critical debate about the future of Nollywood.

Should it continue down the path of instant fame and body-centric branding, or will it return to its roots of storytelling, authenticity, and craft?

In a film industry filled with glitz, lights, and hashtags, voices like Charles’ may be uncomfortable—but they are necessary.

Whether his words spark change or more controversy, they have reminded everyone that beneath the red carpets and camera lenses lies a deeper question—what kind of stories, and storytellers, do we want Nollywood to be known for?