OGOGO: Remembering the Man Who Made Yoruba Cinema Feel Personal

By Emmanuel Daniji

As a child who did not grow up watching many movies, there were certain names in the Nigerian film industry that were simply impossible to miss. You might not know the title of a movie or even understand the story, but you knew the actors. Friends in the neighbourhood shared their names, copied their mannerisms and argued about their favourite characters. One of those unforgettable names was Taiwo Hassan, popularly known as Ogogo.

Whenever I had the opportunity to watch a film at a neighbour’s house, I would often ask, “Can we watch an Ogogo film?” It did not really matter what role he was playing. Once Ogogo was in the movie, I was interested.

Memory does not serve me as well as it once did, so I cannot remember every character he played in the films I watched growing up. But I remember the feeling. I remember Ogogo the boxer. Ogogo the handsome man. Ogogo the tough guy. Ogogo the friend of Yinka Quadri. And, above everything else, Ogogo the actor.

That is perhaps the most powerful thing about a great actor. Long after you forget the plot, you remember how they made you feel.

The news of Taiwo Hassan’s death has therefore felt particularly painful for many Nigerians who grew up watching Yoruba films. His death represents the loss of one of the faces that helped shape the Nigerian home-video era and, more importantly, one of the performers who carried the traditions of Yoruba theatre into a changing film industry.

To understand the man and the legacy he leaves behind, we invited people who knew, watched, admired and grew up with his work to share their memories.

‘Yemi Ajala: Ogogo Was More Than an Actor

According to ‘Yemi Ajala, Taiwo Hassan did not simply participate in Yoruba cinema; he carried with him the history, stagecraft, humour and imagination of the Yoruba travelling theatre tradition.

For him, Ogogo represented something deeper than celebrity. He embodied the idea of Omoluabi — the values of character, restraint and dignity — while possessing the physical presence that could dominate a scene without necessarily saying much.

“When Ogogo entered a scene, something happened to the air,” Ajala recalls.

That presence became one of Ogogo’s greatest strengths. Whether he was playing a villain, patriarch, wounded man or intimidating character, he understood how to command attention.

Ajala believes Ogogo’s contribution to Yoruba cinema must also be viewed within the history of the industry itself. He belonged to a generation that helped move Yoruba theatre from travelling stages into television, celluloid, VHS, VCD and eventually the digital and streaming era.

He was also part of the Odunfa Caucus, the influential creative community that played an important role in developing Yoruba popular theatre and nurturing many of the performers who eventually became household names.

But perhaps Ogogo’s greatest achievement was how deeply his work entered everyday Nigerian culture. His voice, expressions, characters and mannerisms travelled beyond movies into music, comedy, memes and ordinary conversations.

As Ajala puts it, Ogogo became part of our “cultural furniture” — something so familiar that we sometimes forget how important it is until it is gone.

Dami Ajayi: The Actor Who Became Owolabi

For Dami Ajayi, Ogogo belonged to a generation that helped define the golden era of Nigerian home videos.

He describes Taiwo Hassan as a pioneer of the travelling theatre and a member of the Odunfa Caucus whose work contributed to the transition from stage performances into the home-video era that exploded in popularity during the 1990s and 2000s.

Ajayi remembers Ogogo not only for his acting but also for his appearance and screen personality.

He was the “fine boy actor” with the dapper dressing, controlled mannerisms and distinctive presence.

But among all his performances, Ajayi singles out his portrayal of Owolabi in Tade Ogidan’s Owo Blow as perhaps his finest.

The character became part of Nigeria’s collective cultural memory, and its influence travelled far beyond cinema. Years later, musicians continued to reference the character and some of Ogogo’s famous expressions in their music.

For Ajayi, that is evidence of the kind of cultural impact an actor can have when a character escapes the screen and becomes part of popular language.

Murtala B. Fuad: “Ogogo Was a Hero to Me”

For Murtala B. Fuad, the relationship with Ogogo was more personal.

He remembers discovering the actor through Egbin Ara in 2009. He loved the film so much that he memorised many of Ogogo’s lines.

Then something even more beautiful happened.

Fuad and his siblings began recreating scenes from the movie during playtime. They acted like Ogogo and the other characters, repeating his lines and imitating his mannerisms.

That was the kind of influence Ogogo had on young viewers.

He was not simply someone they watched on television. He became someone they played.

As Fuad grew older, he continued to appreciate what made Ogogo special: his voice, delivery, physical presence and ability to make even familiar characters feel authentic.

He also points to the popular expression “Action pọ̀ bi Ogogo”, a phrase that became synonymous with the actor’s reputation for bringing intensity and action to his performances.

And then there was “Last Last.”

The expression associated with one of Ogogo’s characters eventually became part of Nigerian pop culture and was famously used by Burna Boy as the title of his global hit.

For Fuad, however, none of those references are bigger than the personal memories.

“His movies were part of my childhood,” he says. “His lines became part of our playtime.”

That is the kind of legacy that cannot be measured by awards, box-office numbers or streaming figures.

It lives in people.

The Ogogo Generation

Taiwo Hassan belonged to a generation of Nigerian actors who did something remarkable without necessarily knowing how significant their work would become.

They made films during an era when Nigerian cinema was still finding its identity. They worked through changing technologies, changing audiences and changing business models. They moved from theatre to television, from VHS and VCD to YouTube and streaming.

And through all those changes, Ogogo remained recognisable.

For many Nigerians, especially those who grew up in the 1990s and 2000s, seeing his face on a movie cover was enough reason to press play.

His characters could be intimidating, funny, romantic, violent, emotional or morally complicated. But whatever role he played, there was usually one thing that could not be removed from the performance: presence.

That presence became his signature.

More Than the Characters

Perhaps this is why the grief surrounding Ogogo’s death goes beyond the loss of another Nollywood actor.

For many people, his death feels like the closing of a chapter in their own childhood.

He belonged to the era when families gathered around television sets and neighbours borrowed films from one another. He belonged to the era when actors’ names could sell a movie before anyone knew the story. He belonged to a period when characters became playground identities and movie lines became everyday jokes.

Ogogo was one of those actors.

He was not merely part of the Nigerian film industry.

He was part of the Nigerian childhood experience.

And that is a legacy that will be difficult to erase.

For those who watched him, imitated him, laughed with him, feared his characters or simply waited for him to appear whenever an Ogogo film came on, the memories will remain.

As Murtala B. Fuad puts it:

“Ogogo, thank you for the memories.”

May his soul rest in peace.