When Michael ‘AMA Psalmist’ Akinrogunde graduated at 20, his father gave him an ultimatum: he had five years to prove that filmmaking could be more than a hobby or return to mechanical engineering. More than a decade later, the bet has paid off. Today, Michael is one of Nigeria’s most celebrated filmmakers, earning multiple awards across both film and advertising. Piggyvest spoke to Michael about taking a bet on his talents, building a name in Nollywood, and his long-term vision for life beyond filmmaking.
Tell us about your childhood. What was your earliest memory of money?
My earliest memory of money is from helping my mum sell in her shop. I wasn’t earning a salary, but it was easier to ask for money to buy sweets while helping out with her business.
When did you start earning your own money?
I didn’t start earning money until I was in university. I sold handouts.
Interesting. How did you go from handouts to filmmaking?
I studied Mechanical Engineering at Covenant University (CU), but I’d always been interested in the arts. In my home church, I was a part of the choir and the drama units.
One of CU’s policies is that every student must join a service unit in the chapel, so in my first week, I chose the drama unit.
But I didn’t realise filmmaking could be a viable career path until my third year, when I came across a post listing the top 10 film directors in Nigeria. It included their names and net worths. It’s funny to hear now, but until then, I thought filmmakers were doing it purely for the passion, just like I was in the drama unit. That was when I started intentionally pivoting to film, although I didn’t tell my parents until after I graduated.
How did your parents take the news?
It was crazy. After I graduated from uni, I immediately started pursuing my master’s degree. The agreement with my parents was to study Aeronautical Engineering in America. I joined a remedial class at the US embassy to accelerate my application process, but I put in film studies instead of engineering as my proposed course. My dad eventually found out because they needed his signature. I was in Lagos at the time, and my parents brought me back to Abuja because they believed Lagos must be, in their own words, ‘affecting my brain’.
I had a conversation with my dad about it, and even though he didn’t really believe in film, he gave me five years to pursue this ‘hobby’. I was 20 at the time, so I had until 25 to get some traction in film, or return to engineering. By faith, I was able to make steady progress, and now my parents support my choice to pursue filmmaking.
Since you had an ultimatum, it must have been very important to get that first directing project. Do you remember how much you were paid for it?
My first film role wasn’t glamorous. I think I was paid between ₦150,000 and ₦200,000 for three films in 2019. This was after film school at Accelerate Filmmaker Project in 2017. I worked at Eagles’ HOPE Foundation, and my work was tailored towards design, video editing, and photography, which helped my transition to filmmaking full-time. My dad even got me an engineering job at his friend’s company, but I stopped going after three days. That was how focused I was on filmmaking.
Many creatives struggle to turn talent into sustainable income. How did you learn to monetise your skills as a filmmaker and storyteller?
I first started to see filmmaking as a serious business when I got into film school. Up until that point, I was just a director for hire. I got a gig, finished the work, collected my payment, and moved straight on to the next project. Sometimes, I threw in my other skills with barely any pay. I was doing the work as an individual, not a brand.
During the Accelerate Filmmaker Project in 2017, we had a class dedicated to film as a business. That was the first time I learnt about the business of film.
It was there I realised I could make more money without changing the scope of my work if I branded it properly. So I registered my business as a production company, built a structure around my skills as a director, editor, and graphic designer, and charged for those skills individually. It also meant I could hire for the skills I didn’t have and take on bigger projects.
How did you learn the business side of turning your skills or your hobbies into paying opportunities?
I think the biggest part for me was saying the first no. After I made my first TV commercial, I was talking to someone who had made many TV commercials, and she randomly asked how much I made from the project. I told her, and she replied with, ‘No, I’m not asking how much you declared. How much did you actually make from the commercial?’ When I told her the same amount, she told me I could have made 7x that amount from that one job.
That’s when I started to understand how branding works, and how important it is to say ‘no’ to some opportunities. Every serious business person learns that you cannot allow others to decide the value of your work. We often think we are doing our clients a favour by accepting work below budget, but when these clients actually have the budget, they don’t remember your sacrifice; they go to the creatives they actually want to work with.
It’s a slow process that requires a lot of self-belief. There are months where you will drink garri. But slowly, when you build your portfolio and work with bigger brands, you will start attracting brands who want production companies that can handle the scale of the work you want to do. It will take some time, but you will cross that bridge.
You talked about what you declare versus what you earn. Can you give me a ballpark estimate of what you currently charge for projects?
My rate card is available to intending clients, but there is room for negotiation based on the client and the project. For a television commercial, which usually takes about 3 – 5 days of shooting, my rate is between $6,500 and $10,000. Film doesn’t pay as well, even though it takes much longer, anywhere from 3 weeks to 3 months; my rate is between $5,000 and $7,500.
You went from earning ₦150,000 for your first three films to charging $5,000 to direct a project. How did you get there, and how long did it take?
It was a gradual process. I didn’t suddenly jump from earning about ₦150,000 (roughly $400 at the time) for my first three films to charging $5,000 for a project. It happened over several years as my experience, portfolio, and the scale of projects grew. We moved steadily from around $400 to $1,000, then $2,500, $3,000, and so on.
I was intentional about making sure the quality of my work grew alongside my rates, so every increase reflected greater value, stronger execution, and more complex productions. Even today, there’s still flexibility depending on the client, the scope and complexity of the project, and the value we’re expected to deliver.
You work across films, commercials, documentaries, and branded content. How important has diversification been to your financial success?
One thing I have had to do is to separate myself from the business. It’s very hard because with a creative business, people struggle to separate the creative from the business. They hire AMA Psalmist Visuals when they actually want to hire me as a director and complain when we send another director. But making that separation makes it easier to be flexible and in demand.
I remember thinking about this critically three years ago. The filmmaking process is in phases, and there are high-volume periods for the creatives involved in these phases, like photographers, assistant directors, and editors. The film industry works on a calendar, and there are high-volume and low-volume quarters. The first quarter is usually for pitching, and the second and third quarters of the year are for shooting and editing in time for summer and the end of the year. This cycle means there are periods where some workers have high-volume work, and periods where there is no work.
Knowing when my skills are most in demand allows me to plan when to pitch, where to look for work, and how to position myself as an individual and AMA Psalmist Visuals as a business.
When your company receives a sizeable payment from a project, how do you typically use that money?
I’m very excited to answer this question because we only started implementing this a short while ago. We have staff on salaries, and the other creatives we work with are on a contract basis. We require that clients who commission us for projects pay 70% upfront. That allows us to determine what profit will come from the project. After we deal with the project’s expenses, our profit is shared using a 50/30/20 formula.
50% goes to investments. We believe a major part of our profit should be out there making more money, rather than sitting idle. 30% goes to savings because clients don’t always pay for projects upfront, and sometimes, we might need to raise money to complete the project before the client pays. Savings come in handy for that, because it is easier to raise money or take loans when you have a pool of funds in reserve or collateral in the form of savings.
The remaining money goes to salaries, fixed expenses, and emergencies. For example, we spend a lot of money on software licenses. This is our sharing formula.
As the head of a production company, what financial metrics or business numbers do you pay the most attention to every month?
In the spirit of full transparency, I’ll admit this is something we recently started paying attention to. I had a financial meeting with a mentor of mine, and he broke down why we needed to start paying attention to metrics like revenue, profit, and targets.
We now plan yearly goals and do quarterly evaluations on our progress. Part of that process is identifying who our highest-paying clients are and when they typically approach us for projects. That way, we know when to pitch and who to pitch to. Top-of-mind awareness is very important in the creative industry, so being able to plan with this in mind has been very useful to our business.
What are the major income streams for AMA Psalmist Visuals?
Oh, easy. Our biggest income stream is still client projects.
One thing I’ve changed recently is separating my personal finances from the business’s finances. I used to put every payment I received straight back into the business, but now I pay myself separately. That has made it much easier to track how much the business is actually earning and where our revenue is coming from.
What is the most expensive thing you’ve bought with money you’ve earned from filmmaking?
Land. Definitely, land.
In Lagos?
No, not in Lagos.
What’s one investment you wish you had made earlier?
All of them. I wish I had started investing many years ago. Imagine where I would be financially now if I had invested in the oil & gas or banking sector three years ago.
This is actually the first year I’ve taken saving and investing seriously. This year, I started using SafeLock, and I’ve set up an Autosave on my Flex Naira wallet to debit me daily. I’m correcting that mistake by making every investment I can.
In the last seven years, inflation has significantly affected the creative industry. How do you convince clients to pay your rates when the value of everything has gone up, and everyone expects a bargain?
First, this conversation is usually more difficult with new clients. Returning clients tend to understand because they’re dealing with the same economic realities we are, even if they sometimes hope production costs haven’t changed.
What helps is showing them where the money goes. Take the art department, for example. If a client budgeted ₦2 million for art and props on a campaign last year, they would have seen the scale, detail, and production value that budget delivered on set. If they return a year later expecting the same results on the same budget, the purchasing power of that ₦2 million has changed. The same amount simply can’t buy the same materials, props, labour, and finishes it did before. Once clients can see that the increase isn’t really about charging more but about maintaining the standard they’ve come to expect, they’re usually a lot more understanding.
I also think trust is a major ingredient. If you consistently deliver a certain level of work and show that you’re always looking for the best value for their budget, clients begin to trust that you’re not asking for more money out of greed. They can see that your priority is protecting the quality of the project and helping them achieve the best possible outcome.
The creative industry can be unpredictable. What systems have you put in place to create financial stability for yourself?
The biggest system I put in place is a diversified investment portfolio. I have naira and dollar investments because I think it’s important to have exposure to the world’s dominant currency. For the Nigerian exchange market, I split my investments across multiple sectors. At the moment, I have exposure to sectors like financial services, oil and gas, and FMCG, and I plan to expand into at least two more sectors as my disposable income increases.
I’m also a big advocate of investing in what I call “cannot-do-without” businesses. Food is a good example. Even if everything is crumbling tomorrow, people still have to eat. I haven’t done it yet, but I plan to.
You have been in the industry for more than a decade, and hustling through your 20s. Now that you are in your 30s, with more stability and clarity, do you ever think about retirement?
Absolutely. I was actually having this conversation just last week. These days, I think about retirement more intentionally than I did in my twenties. My goal isn’t to stop working; it’s to get to a point where I no longer have to work for money. I want financial freedom to be a choice, not a necessity.
In my twenties, whenever I made money, my instinct was to enjoy the moment. There’s nothing wrong with that, but turning 30 changed my perspective. I started making long-term decisions: buying land, building assets, and bringing partners into AMA Psalmist Visuals so the business can grow beyond me.
Looking back, I wish I had started thinking about wealth-building earlier. But I’m grateful I started when I did, and today I have a clear plan. For me, retirement isn’t about sitting at home; it’s about having the freedom to choose the projects I work on because I love them, not because I need the paycheck.
What would you like to achieve as a filmmaker by the time you retire?
My measure of success is more about quality than fame. I want people to expect a certain standard of quality when my name is attached to a project. It may not be the best film currently in the country, but there are specific quality metrics you associate with my projects.
I would also like, at that level, for my projects to have a voice. When you watch a Nolan film or a Kemi Adetiba film, you can instinctively tell by his signature or her signature style.
Beyond that, I also want to be at a level where I can support other emerging and established filmmakers. I really enjoy teaching, and I totally see myself running a film academy. People have suggested I teach masterclasses, but I’m more interested in building something structured. That’s something I want to explore when I’m more stable.
Looking back, what were the most important financial lessons you learned while building your career in film and media production?
I’ll tie this to some of my principles for film. I’m grateful I never started doing film from a place of survival. When you start filmmaking from a place of survival, it limits your ability to be selective with the projects you take on.
There are about two projects in the pipeline now that I’m not going to take on because the script doesn’t make sense to me. If I absolutely depended on that to survive, then I wouldn’t have that choice.
That’s why I’ve always tried to build other sources of income. I have interests in tech and some of my family’s businesses, and they generate income when I’m not making films.
The lesson there is to diversify your skill set and income early in your career. It gives you the freedom to say no to the wrong opportunities and yes to the ones that truly matter.
