Tòkunbò

In the restless pulse of Lagos, a city where traffic snarls into a living maze and the night is lit by neon signs and whispered deals, Tòkunbò has already tried to leave a shadowed past behind. Once a smuggler of cars, he now spends his days navigating congested avenues in a modest cab, his thoughts constantly drifting to the quiet moments shared with his wife Lisa and their newborn son Chris. The fragile balance between his desire for honest work and the lingering pull of his former life creates a tension that feels as palpable as the humidity that hangs over the waterfront.

When an urgent request comes from an unlikely source, Tòkunbò finds himself thrust into a perilous three‑hour deadline: transport a young girl, the daughter of a high‑ranking government figure, to a captor who demands swift delivery. The assignment feels less like a job and more like a high‑stakes game of cat and mouse, where every minute ticked off the clock tightens the rope around his already strained world. The looming presence of the official’s daughter—later revealed as Nike—adds a personal weight, turning a simple hand‑off into a desperate race against time, danger, and the ever‑watchful eyes of those who could jeopardize everything he holds dear.

As the ticking clock presses, Tòkunbò must reconcile his instinct to protect his family with the moral ambiguity of the task at hand. The film’s tone hovers between gritty realism and tense, breath‑shortening urgency, inviting the audience to feel the strain of a man caught between love and obligation. Beneath the surface, under the city’s relentless rhythm, there is an undercurrent of redemption: a father’s fierce devotion, a wife’s quiet strength, and a looming question of whether one can truly escape the shadows of a past that refuses to stay buried.

Last Updated: August 09, 2025 at 19:36