Blessing Uzzi didn’t plan to become a producer. It became the obvious choice after her interest in film and photography led to a lucrative career shooting music videos for Nigerian pop stars. Today, the founder of Bluhouse Studios has joined the exclusive club of producers whose films have grossed over ₦500 million at the Nigerian Box Office. Piggyvest spoke to Blessing Uzzi about breaking Nigerian box-office records in Lagos with Call Of My Life, building collaborations within the industry, and her ambitions beyond the box office.
Congratulations on the success of Call of My Life. How are you feeling?
I feel good, and I’m genuinely grateful. We knew the film would do well, but not this well. It surpassed our expectations and has generated these conversations that are good, not just for us at Bluhouse Studios but also for the wider industry.
Did you always see yourself becoming a film producer?
In the beginning, no. I started out writing and directing, and I only became a producer out of necessity.
When I started Bluhouse, my goal was to create a home for creatives, a place where talented creatives could execute their projects without compromising their vision. I realised that to do this properly, the directors and writers need creative producers who understand the creative process to collaborate with, rather than a standard producer whose only leverage is money or positioning.
Being a producer gave me that outlet to be creatively useful.
You studied international relations in Cyprus, but eventually found your way behind a camera. How did filmmaking enter the picture?
Thank God for schools abroad, where you are given the chance to try different courses. Even though I was studying international relations, I took a photography and film elective because I liked it. But even then, I thought it would just be a hobby I would explore for a bit and move on from when something more serious came along.
While in school, I started shooting content for friends for free, and a friend of mine kept telling me, “You know this thing, you like it, stop running from it. Just face it”. At one point, it even became annoying. When I did my NYSC at AIT Abuja, I had to ask myself why I was so attached to the camera. Sometimes, I would leave my job on the graphics team to follow the media team to the National Assembly, where I handled the camera for their interviews.
After NYSC, I had an honest conversation with myself about why I was hesitant to pursue this as my career path. I realised it was because I was scared of being broke. After all, every time I spoke to filmmakers and photographers, they were always complaining about money. My family was also keen on finding something that would give me money, not “passion projects”.
I met a friend who moved me to Lagos to work with him in the music industry. Through him, I met Johnny Drille, who had just signed to Mavin Records and also moved to Lagos. He is now one of my longest friendships in the industry. I started shooting Johnny’s Music Mondays, then I shot a film, and was eventually commissioned to co-produce a feature film. Then I directed a music video for Cobhams Asuquo. After that, everyone came calling.
It’s so funny, I’m shooting a music video tomorrow, and I haven’t done that in five years.
Why did you leave that to start Bluhouse?
I liked shooting music videos, but I always knew it wasn’t what I was really passionate about. I am a very passionate person, and I enjoy the filmmaking process. The narrative process, not just the narrative results. I love the opportunity to spend time crafting a story, developing and expanding its themes and message, draft after draft, and bringing it to life over a long period of time.
When I shoot music videos, I always try to tell a story as much as the artist allows. Some agree, others don’t, but for every music video I’ve shot, I’ve found ways to include a story in those three to five minutes. I started Bluhouse because I wanted to tell bigger stories, and music videos weren’t going to give me that kind of fulfilment.
The second thing is, music videos are transactional and only platform the director, and I don’t like being the only successful person I know. I like to collaborate, have an impact on people, and build community.
In 2024, you released Freedom Way, your first project as a producer and writer. What inspired you to make the film?
The idea for Freedom Way came from a young man I worked with, Caleb Okereke. In 2019, he organised this campaign with Bellanaija titled ‘Treat First, Question Later’, which advocated against hospitals refusing to treat gunshot victims without police reports. I was deeply moved by this issue after speaking with him about it, and I began researching it for a short film we never shot.
Several other events later, including the government banning commercial motorcycles & an encounter in which I witnessed Johnny Drille get profiled and harassed by the police, made me revisit that short film script and expand it into the story that became Freedom Way.
You premiered Freedom Way at film festivals before eventually releasing it in Nigerian cinemas. Was there a strategy behind this decision?
In all sincerity, no. Freedom Way was supposed to go straight to a streaming platform, and we were already in talks with distributors when streaming platforms paused acquiring new content. We had to pivot, so we decided to do festivals first, then cinemas after. We didn’t know if it would work, but it did. Being awarded Best Overall movie at the AMVCA 2025 validated that and showed us that people were paying attention.
You’ve been working as a producer for quite some time, but Zikoko Life was a very unexpected direction for you. How did this collaboration come about?
Again, back to Caleb. I remember reading some of the Zikoko articles and telling Caleb how I liked the stories and thought it was a strong Intellectual Property (IP) that we could adapt. He said he knew Anita Eboigbe at Zikoko & made an email introduction. I developed a proposal & pitched it to Anita and Tomiwa Aladekomo, the CEO of Big Cabal Media. It was a really nice meeting; it didn’t feel like a corporate pitch, and I got the sense that they would be easy to collaborate with.
Unfortunately, we lost potential funding for the project from a partner, and I withdrew. Zikoko continued where I stopped; they took my idea and pitched for funding themselves. Their pitch was approved, and they offered me the opportunity to produce the adaptation if I was still interested. I was honestly surprised and impressed that they honoured our initial agreement, even though I was unable to raise funding for our initial idea.
And that was how Zikoko Life came to be.
Zikoko Life was a critical & commercial success by all metrics. Do you see yourself exploring this kind of collaboration again?
If the partners are as collaborative as Big Cabal Media, yes. The thing they did, and that I wish more collaborators would do, is listen to the experts. We had creative control, and I deeply love them for that. They were involved, but they trusted us as experts and always gave us the final say on decision-making, once we explained our reasoning.
There was respect for my creatives; none of my writers and directors felt disrespected at any part of the process. We didn’t have a lot of money, but everyone on that project worked as if their big break was going to come from this, even though it was a small project. If I meet more partners like that, why not?
The success of Call of My Life has been unprecedented. Why did you choose this film as the next full-length feature for Bluhouse?
After Freedom Way, we were getting boxed into the niche of social commentary, so much so that I had to start turning down interviews. We decided to do something lighthearted and fun that could show our range and our approach to making films with artistic excellence, whether arthouse or commercial.
When you’re building a company, you don’t want to be put in a box. What drew me to one of my favourite film companies in the world, A24, is their mission to be different in Hollywood, to platform new and diverse voices, and offer a different perspective. I’ve seen them go from horror to romance, but there is always that A24 element in everything they do. From the intro, you already know. I liked and wanted to emulate that.
I don’t want Bluhouse to be seen as this obscure company with underdog filmmakers who only do festivals. Commercial success is a very important aspect of this work, and our job is to show that there is no single formula for commercial success.
How did you approach marketing this film to convince people to support the film the way they have?
We didn’t have the money to market our film; we went over budget during the shoot. Call of My Life is our most expensive project so far, and we didn’t expect that because we assumed a romance film would be easier to execute. Lagos has a gritty feel, but we wanted to make Lagos pretty and romantic through locations and production design, and that was where most of our money went.
Once we were done shooting, I invited the production crew back, used my office space and some backdrops to create a simple set, gave everyone Call of My Life branded shirts, and got them to talk about what it was like working on the project.
That made them happy because it’s usually the actors who end up in front of the camera, not the crew. Looking back, I think Nigerians really connected with that angle. The crew members were excited to finally be recognised for their contributions to the film, and sharing those videos with their followers helped build anticipation for the release.
Then there was that trailer. We were supposed to release the film during Valentine’s season, and the distributors had given us a date, but we weren’t ready by February, so we pushed the release back. To console myself, I decided to put out a trailer, no date, just a way to test the waters. The response was overwhelmingly positive. I even got personal phone calls asking for the release date.
This was surprising because everyone had doubts, from former investors to distributors. Even the initial Twitter buzz didn’t convince distributors, who dismissed it as Twitter noise. Their doubts inspired us to really push through, especially our leads, Uzoamaka and Andrew, who had something to prove. We called in favours from my friends in music and pushed so much that people started assuming we had a big marketing budget.
What lessons did you learn from making and distributing this film that you will apply to your future projects?
We’ve done well, but if I set out thinking Call of My Life would do this well, there are many things I would have done differently in anticipation of that goal. My goal was to make a beautiful film, not break records. Maybe it’s a bad thing that I’m not wired that way, but I am learning to think bigger and plan ahead.
On the distribution side, I didn’t plan for the film to potentially travel to different markets, and I’m only finalising deals now.
Finally, stick to your guts. I stuck to my guts, and look where we are now.
Films cost money. How did you go about financing the production of Call of My Life?
When I’m financing a project, I always start from within before looking elsewhere. This is my second feature film, so I already had a few partners whom I return to for every project. But because Freedom Way didn’t perform as we had hoped commercially, it wasn’t as easy to convince them to come back on board.
So a significant portion of the funding for Call of My Life came from my personal savings. A few friends also invested in the project, and at some point, Dammy Twitch, the film’s director, came on board as an executive producer. My friends in the music industry also contributed where they could.
It was very much a collective effort from people who believed in the project and trusted us to pull it off.
Call of My Life has made ₦500 million at the Box Office. Could you give us an idea of the budget for the film?
I can’t give you an exact number because it is not part of the cinema culture here, even though it is not the same elsewhere. What I can tell you is that it is not within the usual budget of Nollywood films, which is somewhere between $80,000 to $250,000. Call of My Life’s budget exceeds that.
Call of My Life has scenes set across Lagos, Abuja, and Enugu. That can be a logistical nightmare for any production. How did you keep costs under control?
This was actually one of the reasons our costs went up. I had shot in most of these places as a music video director, and that experience already taught me what to look out for, how to cut down, and how to partner on the ground.
In Abuja, for example, I didn’t fly in more than seven people. I did whatever was necessary to save costs without compromising on quality.
You make bets on young, emerging filmmakers in an industry whose cinema culture relies on celebrity and popularity to sell tickets. Why, in Nigerian parlance, is this the hill you have chosen to die on?
I wish I had a grand answer, other than ‘I like people’. If I meet you and I think ‘hmmm, this is an incredible person, I like them, and I think that they are talented”, I feel like that is all you need to succeed. Their popularity doesn’t even come to mind. If you are going to believe in me the way I believe in you, both of us can conquer.
It is very risky, and it hasn’t always rewarded me, but I don’t have any project under Bluhouse that I don’t like, and very few filmmakers working today can say that. I will sit down and watch all Bluhouse projects and not feel let down by quality. This is because I work with talented people.
Film financing is inherently risky. What happens when a film doesn’t recoup its costs immediately?
There is nothing you can do. If you don’t break even on your film, you cry with your investors and move on. Just like in tech, you invest, but you really never know whether you’ll recoup your investments and when.
Recently, someone asked me, “Why weren’t you at your New York screening for Freedom Way?” A film centre had reached out and licensed the film for three months. Now, Nigerians don’t know this because we are used to the box-office way of making money, but Freedom Way makes money outside the cinema circuit. This is why we need to slay this demon of distribution.
Film is a risk; if you make money, everyone is happy, especially the distributors, because they make money even before the filmmakers, but if not, you count your losses, strategise, and try again.
You were recently invited to the Cannes film festival, one of the world’s most important film markets, to pitch to potential investors. What did that experience teach you about financing as a creative running a business?
I enjoy going to festivals because it shows me there is so much more I can do, especially when I meet producers from other countries and hear how they finance their own films.
International filmmakers have access to funding from institutions, ‘soft’ money that allows them to tell certain stories with the honesty that those stories deserve. Whether people like it or not, critical acclaim is a measure of success and makes our industry. Films like My Father’s Shadow are successes, even if it didn’t break Nigerian box office records. While we might not have soft money, which is sad, going to these places has opened our eyes and given us access to the institutions for certain films that we want to make without the pressure of commercial success.
With the success of Call of My Life comes a lot of goodwill and new interest. How do you intend to use this attention in the short term?
My response will be a little disappointing, because I don’t have any plans to leverage this attention. It’s great what Call of My Life has done, but let’s come back and face the work we have to do. 60-70% of the film’s success is the quality of the product itself. I have read people’s comments praising the intentionality and effort that went into the film; they know we respect their money and time and made something worthy of both.
I am a very product-driven person; I want my next project to be better than my last. I want people to revisit my filmography and see growth and a journey. They will not all be commercial films like Call of My Life; it would be dishonest. Kachifo will be a very beautiful film that will be excellently done and will drive conversations in different spaces, but it will not be a mass-audience pleaser like Call of My Life.
For me, there is no pressure, but I am inspired. For the longest time, the data suggested that people only wanted to see one kind of film in cinemas, but now Call of My Life has introduced another kind of data that the audience can respond to a well-made story with no famous leads, and we just need two to three more of that, from other producers or me, for this to become an industry standard.
I like those conversations, and that’s what I want to further with this attention.
There is a lot of new interest from the investors. They are even asking for a Call of My Life sequel. But if you have been around filmmaking and understand the industry by studying other people’s journeys, you know you will shoot yourself in the foot by attempting Nollywood’s microwave-style filmmaking. Nigerian audiences will shock you.
I welcome investors; we need the money to make films, and depending on the request and expectations, we will take the money. But it can’t be rushed. Call of My Life took some time to bring to life; my process does, too.
Are there any financial decisions that you have that you are particularly proud of and would like to share?
I’m proud of all of them. I’m not a wasteful producer. I like money, but I respect it too, and I think you need a balance between the two. I like that people can see that a lot of money went into this film; we tried our best and went all the way.
What financial tips would you like to share with young filmmakers who want to strike out on their own and start independent film projects?
Have good relationships. When I wanted to shoot a teaser for No Man’s Land, the first project Bluhouse worked on, I spoke to a few friends who sent me money. I put that money together and put out a two-minute teaser. It did so well that people started asking if I had made the full project. I have a long-time investor who came on board the back of that teaser; we have never met.
So, do good work, care about the quality of your work, irrespective of your budget, and be good to the people you work with. If you don’t know how to keep relationships, you will struggle in the industry. Dika, Muhammad Atta Ahmed, and Afolabi Olalekan, all of whom I work with, I met because I liked their work, or they liked mine.
Where do you see Bluhouse in the next 10 years?
Winning the Oscars.
