An Oppositional Gaze Critique of “Feliz Navidad Nigeria!”

 The YouTube video “Feliz Navidad Nigeria!” shows Nigerians dancing and celebrating to the classic Christmas song “Feliz Navidad” in a festive setting. Bright decorations, smiling faces, and upbeat music create a joyful and community-driven atmosphere. On the surface, it’s a heartwarming holiday video meant to spread happiness and showcase cultural pride. Yet when viewed through Bell Hooks’ concept of the “oppositional gaze,” this cheerful façade can be read as both empowering and problematic — it invites us to look deeper and question the power dynamics behind how the culture is portrayed.

Looking at its production and release, the video feels like a grassroots celebration meant to share local holiday spirit with a global audience. It was likely posted by a local media outlet or individual hoping to highlight cultural pride across Nigeria. The setting, full of everyday neighborhoods and community gatherings, suggests spontaneity and local authenticity. But using Hooks’ oppositional lens means asking: was this created to genuinely share community joy, or did someone expect it to go viral and “look good” on the internet? The intent might seem genuine, but without knowing who funded it or why, we can question whether this representation is being shaped for outsider approval and like-generating views rather than for the community itself.

If you watch the video with a consumer’s eye, the dominant reading pops immediately: “Feliz Navidad Nigeria!” is a fun, multicultural, positive portrayal of festive cheer. It shows a cultural mix — a Spanish song sung by Nigerians — that feels like global unity. For many viewers, especially those outside Nigeria, it seems uplifting. It reinforces a feel-good message: that holiday spirit connects all of us, across cultures and continents.

But the oppositional gaze demands that we refuse this easy sweetness and read underneath. Who is benefiting from this representation? Is it an authentic celebration, or is it a simplified culture packaged for global approval and internet algorithms? Are we seeing a genuine expression of local joy, or a colorful, happy video trimmed to fit outside expectations of what “African Christmas” looks like? The video becomes spectacle more than substance — it’s curated, upbeat, and seems designed to be shared widely, but it rarely dives into the real traditions, hardships, or deeper meaning of Christmas in Nigeria. Bell Hooks would remind us that we have a right to look back critically at how our cultures are shown — and to resist being reduced to cheerful visuals for outsider consumption.

Thinking about who’s watching, the divides become clearer. For Nigerians and diasporic Africans, the video might resonate emotionally — it’s their homes, their friends, maybe even their own dance moves. But for many global viewers, this video is exotic entertainment, a splash of “Africa” in a feed streamed with holiday content. The video’s audience mapping matters: those with lived experience may detect the layers that outsiders miss — things like neighborhood names or family traditions — while most international viewers only see the surface visuals. That gap in understanding shows how representation can look inclusive but still hide deeper disparities and contexts.

At its core, the video’s representation reaffirms which stories get to be told and how. We see happy faces, bright clothes, and upbeat dancing — but missing are the voices that would explain why they’re dancing, what spiritual or familial meaning this Christmas holds, or what challenges communities face during this season. We’re shown the celebration, not the context. The oppositional gaze reminds us that representation shaped by others often leaves out what truly matters to the people represented. Without their stories fully told, the video risks commodifying culture: it becomes a colorful display for outside viewers, rather than a true reflection of lived experience.

In the end, “Feliz Navidad Nigeria!” is both a celebration and a caution. It captures real moments of joy and community, but through Hooks’ oppositional lens, it also challenges us to ask who is telling the story, and for whom. Are we witnessing a local tradition, or consuming a holiday snippet repackaged as entertainment? This is a reminder that representation is political — it carries power. As viewers, we have the right and responsibility to engage actively, to question, to seek the fuller story — and to shift the gaze from just watching to truly seeing.