Sodiq Taiwo watches the children below as they play and argue in the back yard of Lagos, Nigeria, out of his bedroom window. One of their favourite games is “police and thief”, where heroes chase down supposed criminals, mouthing “pew pew” as if to shoot down the wrongdoers.
While waiting for Grand Theft Auto V (GTA) Online, a game extension that lets players play criminals online, to finish installing on his computer, Taiwo laughs at the irony.
Earlier that day, the 29-year-old digital marketer, tech-content creator and gamer was in an Uber on the way home when he stumbled upon a TikTok video by Nigerian video game streamer , TacticalCeza. With more than 308,000 TikTok followers, Ceza has become one of Nigeria’s most popular faces in the GTA roleplaying industry as viewers watch him play the game.
Ceza plays a policeman in the Roleplay community server for “Made in Lagos” by using FiveM, a GTA mod that allows players to create or join customised multiplayer servers without altering the game’s fundamental framework.
As they re-enact the real-world encounters many young people face with the police, his character, who is wearing a Kevlar vest emblazoned with “Nigerian Police,” flags down cars and interacts with other characters while roleplaying as fraudsters or drivers.
“Park your vehicle! … Off your engine”! When a car driver pulls over to the side of the road, Cisa’s character instructs the character. “Who is the owner of this vehicle?! … What do you do for a living”?! Ceza demands as another police officer characterizes the car’s current standing driver. After seizing the driver’s cell phone, they drive him to a nearby ATM and demand that he withdraw money before finally allowing him to return to his car and drive off.
For Taiwo, sitting in the back of the Uber watching the video, the roleplay hit close to home.
In a typical roadblock situation, armed Nigerian police had flagged down the taxi he was taking less than 30 minutes earlier in the real world.
“Park! Park”! one shouted. Taiwo was too well aware of it. On previous stops, officers would ask him for a token “for water” – generally considered a euphemism for a bribe – while other times they’d delay traffic, looking for something incriminating. Before one asked Taiwo for some money so they could eat, they asked him to open his bag and search the cab on this day. “Find me something”, the police officer told Taiwo.
But later, back home at his workstation, Taiwo watches the progress bar fill on his computer screen, indicating that the GTA game is installed. The Made in Lagos server and FiveM are then used to run the game, according to Ceza’s tutorial video, which is available on YouTube. As he gets closer to entering a familiar yet surreal, virtual Lagos filled with encounters that are not too different from what he had just experienced, his curiosity grows.
The weight of satire
For the children outside Taiwo’s house, “play” opens a world bound only by their imagination, the edges of their back yard, and the watchful gaze of an older sibling.
Their “police and thief”, or cops and robbers, games are an innocent pastime. They reflect, however, a harsher reality of police harassment in cities across Nigeria, which they do not know.
During the #EndSARS protests, these lived experiences reached a climax in 2020. What began as isolated grievances against the Special Anti-Robbery Squad’s (SARS) routine profiling and abuse escalated into a nationwide movement demanding accountability, reform and dignity. Millions of people took to the streets to appease the oppressive youth of Nigeria.
However, five years on, little has changed. Between 2020 and 2024, more than 2, 000 complaints of police misconduct were made, according to reports from various government agencies in Nigeria. Three men only recently experienced a 1 million naira ($666) shakedown, which was only discovered when the officers were secretly captured on a glasses camera, which later appeared on X.
Ceza wanted to share and comment on these common struggles, so he made the decision to use gaming as a storytelling tool.
“I’ve experienced it firsthand, and so have close friends I lived with”, he tells Al Jazeera. “That’s a big part of why I’m able to tell these stories with authenticity. My perspective is also influenced by the online stories I come across.
Ceza’s success and popularity at TikTok are due to his blending of gaming and social commentary. He has carved out a niche in Nigeria by blending pop culture and gaming to amplify his comedic persona by overlaying Call of Duty streams with gameplay or reactions to current topics.
However, his rise to prominence has not been without controversy.
Viewers speculated that he had been coerced at gunpoint after noticing what appeared to be the nozzle of a gun in the frame when he apologized to the Nigerian president for laughing at his fall during the 2023 inauguration. Even though Ceza later clarified that it was his microphone, the incident highlighted the precariousness of critiquing authority in Nigeria, even through satire.
According to Ceza, “using satire] is a more entertaining way to bring up the issues with the abuse of power in the country.” “Knowing your rights isn’t enough to survive in Nigeria”.
His work seeks to educate but also reassure his audience, he says, reminding them: “What you’ve experienced, you’re not alone, and that alone gives comfort”.
Even though the popularity of gaming is on the rise in Nigeria, Ceza’s approach is singular, using the GTA roleplay as both a mirror and a megaphone to highlight the absurdities of daily injustice.
Yet, his work is not without precedent. Nigerian artists have long used their art as a form of resistance in both film and music. Rapper Falz’s Johnny and This Is Nigeria are vile indictments of police brutality, while Burna Boy’s Monsters You Made and Johnny and This Is Nigeria both feature righteous fury from the oppressed. Films like Oloture and Black November shed light on the institutional rot and reveal the state’s involvement in the suffering of its citizens.
Ceza’s work aligns with this tradition but also points to its evolution:  , as storytelling mediums evolve, so do the ways in which Nigerians resist, critique, and push for change.
Gaming as activism
Globally, video games surpass both film and music in revenue and reach. According to Newzoo’s Global Games Market Report, the gaming industry generated more than $187bn in 2024, dwarfing the global box office and music industry combined. Nigeria’s gaming scene is still young, but its rapid expansion, fueled by growing internet users and mobile gaming, indicates its growing cultural relevance.
Digital platforms have become increasingly popular as tools for activism around the world, with Roblox serving as an example of a platform for protests highlighting political issues like pro-Palestine solidarity in the Gaza war. In addition to amplifying their messages, pro-democracy activists in Hong Kong and Black Lives Matter supporters have used virtual spaces to influence behavior.
In Nigeria, this medium reflects the reality of many young people, offering a space to confront real-world issues like police brutality and systemic profiling.
Joost Vervoort, a scholar specialising in how digital environments like gaming can reshape societal norms, empower communities, and challenge entrenched systems, observes, “Video games, in the case of what Ceza does, create a cultural phenomenon people can reflect on. It’s storytelling. It is playing around with communal identities”.
His research reveals how seriousness and playfulness can coexist, giving insight into why Nigerians are drawn to bring up grave issues in the manner of Ceza.
“The wisdom of deep playfulness lies in taking things less rigidly, with ironic distance and perspective. He tells Al Jazeera, “Play allows us to reject conventional interpretations and accept the absurdity and complexity of life, while imagining unending possibilities for change.”
According to Ceza, perception is shaped by the society in which it is heard: “When everyone hears a different story, I believe they have the freedom to take it as a joke or a deeper message. And I can’t force them to do that.
Vervoort explains that as TikTok viewers and gamers see a mirror of their own reality in Ceza’s work, encouraging them to put their values, identities, and interests first, creating communities that eventually help to alter societal norms.
Some people worry that the message’s gravity may be lost because humor is so heavily woven with serious issues. However, Vervoort is confident in its power to prompt change. He claims that “the space is gradually becoming a platform for cultural and political critique,” and that the impact is unlikely to be hampered by the risk of not being taken seriously.
Ceza sees its potential to reach global audiences and raise new awareness of Nigerian issues as streaming expands and gaming becomes a more effective form of activism. “It’s going to change the world and put Nigerians on the map”, he says. “It’s a new field, and I’m glad it’s growing”.
As Taiwo transitions into the role of a fraudster in GTA, he soon finds himself in a virtual world that mirrors the harassment he encounters in real life, revealing this growing power of gaming.
On-screen, Ceza, in character as a police officer, demands that Taiwo “drop something for the boys” or risk being taken to the station.
No matter how many times Taiwo tries to escape, the game’s rules – like the system he lives in – remain unchallenged, its power unyielding.
Yet for him, the game is both cathartic and communal, allowing him to unwind without having to suffer in the real world and form connections with people who are aware of the reality.
Source: Aljazeera
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