John Oguntase’s Praey is a landmark moment in Nigerian gospel cinema, a film that dares to step away from the familiar and dive into the haunting world of suspense and faith. Conceived and nurtured over eight long years, the film unfolds like a carefully crafted puzzle, one that grips its audience with tension while never losing sight of its spiritual anchor. From its opening sequence, Praey makes it clear that it is not merely a movie but a ministry tool, a blend of gospel truth and cinematic craft.
The story is set in a remote village, an eerie and unsettling backdrop where corps members on medical duty quickly realise that their posting is not just another civic assignment but a descent into a crucible of survival. The absence of proper medical care, the whisper of dark forces, and the ever-present threat of violence create a setting where fear and faith collide. Here, prayer is not routine but a lifeline, and the title of the film becomes a layered metaphor: the characters are prey to unseen forces, yet also find deliverance through earnest prayer.
The acting is compelling, anchored by Omolara Ayoola as a police detective navigating hostile terrain. She brings grit and vulnerability to her role, proving once again her ability to carry weighty characters. Perhaps the most surprising performance comes from Ayobami Adegboyega, whose chilling portrayal of Laja unsettled viewers so deeply that many struggled to reconcile it with his known gentle persona. His villainous turn is a reminder of how transformative acting can be when talent meets strong direction. The ensemble cast, including veterans like Victor Olukoju and Kayode Owojori, deepen the story’s resonance, while Fejos’ portrayal of the Chief Priest adds an unforgettable edge, equal parts terrifying and symbolic.
Visually, Praey is striking. Kunle Adepoju’s cinematography captures both the expansive desolation of the rural setting and the intimate terror of being cornered in a place where help is scarce. The sets, from shrines to village compounds, are meticulously designed, pulling viewers into an authentic world that feels both lived-in and haunted. It is evident that great care was taken with costume, props, and set design, giving the production a professional finish rare in gospel films.
But perhaps the film’s greatest strength lies in its message. Praey is not only a suspense-filled drama; it is a commentary on the state of Nigeria’s healthcare system, a mirror held up to a society where negligence and systemic failure often prove deadlier than the ailments themselves. Through the corps members’ plight, Oguntase highlights how many Nigerians suffer and even die, not from sickness, but from neglect and abandonment. In this way, the film serves as both a spiritual wake-up call and a social critique, urging compassion, responsibility, and reform.
Backed by 2nd Touch Production and Impact Global Ministries, Praey is a testament to what gospel films can achieve with vision, resources, and faith. It shows that Christian cinema need not be simplistic or predictable; it can be layered, gripping, and relevant. Oguntase and his team prove that faith-based stories can compete with mainstream narratives, carrying the same cinematic excellence while delivering a deeper, eternal message.
In the end, Praey is more than a thriller. It is a cry for help and a declaration of hope. It warns of the forces, both human and spiritual, that prey on the vulnerable, yet it affirms that God’s power to rescue remains absolute. Long after the credits roll, viewers are left not just with the memory of suspense but with a renewed awareness of prayer’s power and a sobering reflection on the society we live in.
