To Kill a Monkey Review: Kemi Adetiba Delivers a Gritty, Cybercrime Thriller That Cuts Deep

With To Kill a Monkey, filmmaker Kemi Adetiba returns with her most daring and socially confrontational work yet — a brooding, eight-part cybercrime thriller that swaps political theatrics for a deep dive into the moral compromises of survival in modern Nigeria. Streaming on Netflix as of July 18, 2025, the series is a raw and layered portrait of a man seduced by tech-enabled fraud, haunted by loss, and hunted by consequence.

Anchored by strong performances and atmospheric tension, To Kill a Monkey is as much about internet scams as it is about identity, desperation, and the haunting price of trying to outrun your past.

Plot Summary: Into the Heart of Digital Darkness

The story follows Efemini — simply “Efe” — a down-on-his-luck, intelligent young man played with controlled intensity by William Benson. Efe has lost everything that once grounded him: his job, his family, and most importantly, his sense of moral compass. Living in Lagos and trying to find his footing, he reconnects with Oboz (Bucci Franklin), a notorious cybercrime kingpin running a covert fraud syndicate.

The syndicate operates under the guise of “monkeys” — an ironic label for men who scam their way to wealth by pretending to be what they’re not. Efe, with his background in tech and artificial intelligence, quickly proves useful, building tools that help the gang target foreigners.

But beneath the wealth, women, and wild nights, the cracks begin to show. Efe’s inner world is fragile, riddled with grief, survivor’s guilt, and the slow realization that he’s spiraling into something unrecognizable.

On the other side of the hunt is Mo Ogunlesi (Bimbo Akintola), an emotionally scarred cybercrime officer determined to bring down the syndicate. As the lines blur between right and wrong, her pursuit of justice collides with Efe’s desperate need for escape.

Performance & Characterization: A Breakout and a Masterclass

William Benson is a revelation in the role of Efe. His performance is quiet, haunting, and deeply internal. Benson doesn’t play Efe as a one-note criminal but as a man struggling to survive the emotional wreckage of his life. His pain never screams — it simmers.

Bucci Franklin, as Oboz, brings charisma and controlled menace. The Edo accent, the swagger, the manipulative confidence — Franklin crafts a character that is seductive yet untrustworthy. Oboz is as much a metaphor for the streets as he is a reflection of its dangers: fast wealth, shallow loyalty, inevitable betrayal.

Bimbo Akintola returns to the screen with force. Her portrayal of Mo Ogunlesi — driven, grief-ridden, unshakably moral — offers the perfect foil to Efe’s morally gray journey. Their eventual face-off is among the most emotionally potent in the series.

Other cast members, including Stella Damasus, Chidi Mokeme, and Lilian Afegbai, deliver strong performances, though a few characters, especially within law enforcement, could have used more backstory and depth.

Direction & Writing: Kemi Adetiba’s Bold Evolution

This is Adetiba’s first major work since the King of Boys franchise, and it’s an intentional departure. Gone are the dramatic monologues and crown politics. In their place: subtlety, grit, and the silence of desperation.

As the creator, director, and writer, Adetiba shapes a story rooted in the here and now — from dating app scams to dark web forums. The dialogue is authentic, street-smart, and emotionally resonant. The writing captures both the banter of Lagos boys and the desperation of a generation trading dreams for survival hacks.

Still, the series isn’t without its flaws. At eight episodes, it occasionally lingers too long on scenes that don’t move the story forward. The mid-section, in particular, could’ve benefited from tighter pacing. But when the show finds its rhythm, it doesn’t let go.

Cinematography & Sound

Visually, To Kill a Monkey is a triumph. Shot by KC Obiajulu, the series uses deep shadows, neon backlights, and smartphone overlays to immerse viewers in the digital underworld. The use of screen graphics; messages, code, AI models, and is clever without feeling gimmicky.

Sound plays a crucial role too. The series hums with tension: the buzz of a hacked laptop, the ping of a notification just before betrayal, the muffled roar of Lagos nightlife. The soundtrack, blending ambient electronica with low-key Afrobeats, heightens both danger and emotion.

Costume & Styling: The Look of Fast Life

From knock-off designer belts to crisp kaftans and “big boy” jewelry, the costume design mirrors the delusion of luxury that defines the fraud world. Oboz is always overdressed, a walking ad for his own success story , while Efe’s style shifts from humble to gaudy, then back to broken as his inner world begins to collapse.

It’s in the subtle styling — the oversized shades, the loud watches, the new iPhones — that the show tells a silent story about aspiration and identity.

Themes & Symbolism

The title To Kill a Monkey is both literal and metaphorical. In Nigerian slang, it implies removing a nuisance — but here, it represents a deeper question: what does it mean to kill the part of yourself shaped by trauma, poverty, and anger?

The “monkey” is Efe’s alter ego — the face he wears to survive a system that failed him. Killing it isn’t just about walking away from crime; it’s about reclaiming his humanity. But can a man who’s benefited from darkness ever fully escape it?

Other powerful themes include:
– Grief and isolation
– Tech as both savior and curse
– The price of betrayal
– The thin line between survival and corruption

My Rating: 8/10

To Kill a Monkey is a sharp, emotionally resonant, and stylistically confident series. It’s not just about cybercrime; it’s about the personal cost of chasing shortcuts in a world that offers so few long roads.

With a career-defining performance from William Benson, a pitch-perfect villain in Bucci Franklin, and a director who continues to evolve and challenge herself, this is one of Nollywood’s most relevant thrillers in recent years.

In the world of the “monkeys,” survival is never free, and sometimes, the hardest person to escape is yourself.