Critique of the Glo “Feliz Navidad, Nigerians” Advert Using bell hooks’ Feminist Lens

 Critique of the Glo “Feliz Navidad, Nigerians” Advert Using bell hooks’ Feminist Lens

The Glo “Feliz Navidad, Nigerians” Christmas advert is a visually captivating commercial meant to evoke joy, celebration, and cultural unity during the festive season. The ad features a mix of tap dancers, a lively musical atmosphere, and several well-known Nigerian celebrities such as Timini Egbuson, Uche Nwaefuna, Chizzy Alichi, and others, all participating in a jubilant Christmas gathering. At first glance, the advert appears to be a positive celebration of Nigerian culture and community during the holidays. However, when examined through the critical feminist lens of bell hooks, it reveals underlying tensions related to representation, commodification, and identity politics. Bell hooks’ work challenges media representations that reinforce systems of oppression, especially those rooted in race, gender, and class. This essay critiques the Glo Christmas advert by applying hooks’ theories on cultural appropriation, performativity, and marginalization, highlighting how seemingly festive media can still reinforce exclusionary ideologies under the guise of celebration.

One of bell hooks’ most powerful arguments is that representation is never neutral. It is always shaped by dominant ideologies, often reinforcing the interests of those in power while marginalizing others. In the Glo advert, although it features a predominantly Black Nigerian cast, the aesthetic choices reflect a Westernized framework of celebration. The use of the Spanish-language Christmas song “Feliz Navidad”—while globally recognized—raises questions about cultural authenticity and cultural imperialism. Why, in a celebration centered on Nigerian people and spaces, is a foreign (non-African) cultural symbol chosen as the unifying theme? Hooks would argue that this reflects a subtle form of internalized colonialism, where global (read: Western) aesthetics are prioritized over indigenous traditions. By aligning Christmas with a Euro-American sonic and visual language, the advert perpetuates the idea that Nigerian festivities must conform to external norms to be considered “universal” or “marketable.” This erasure of local musical or festive traditions reproduces the very systems hooks calls out in her critique of global capitalism and cultural hegemony.

Furthermore, bell hooks consistently interrogates how patriarchal structures are preserved in media under the guise of entertainment. In the Glo advert, while both men and women are present, the gender dynamics mirror dominant norms where women are depicted as background cheerleaders while men hold more visible and expressive positions. Hooks would note that although Black women are represented, they are not centered. Their presence is primarily performative—dancing, smiling, and enhancing the mood—rather than intellectual or authoritative. This continues a trend where women, particularly Black women, are expected to perform emotional labor and embody joy or beauty, while the narrative control remains with men. Their silence in the advert reinforces this dynamic; the women are largely seen but not heard, aestheticized rather than individualized. Hooks’ framework reveals how these visual choices serve to uphold gender hierarchies, even in a commercial that appears inclusive on the surface.

Bell hooks also speaks extensively about class and capitalism, particularly how corporations commodify identity to drive profit. The Glo advert, though festive in tone, is ultimately a strategic marketing tool designed to associate their brand with happiness, culture, and unity. Yet, the way this is done raises several questions. The featured cast is composed almost entirely of celebrities and conventionally attractive, well-dressed middle- and upper-class Nigerians. There is no visible representation of rural communities, working-class families, or older generations beyond entertainers. In other words, the “Nigerians” being celebrated are a specific class of aspirational urban elites. Hooks would interpret this as a reinforcement of capitalist class ideals, where visibility is tied to wealth and status. The advert excludes the lived realities of millions of Nigerians who may not relate to such polished holiday experiences. In this way, Glo promotes a consumerist fantasy that subtly alienates the very population it claims to celebrate. According to hooks, this is a prime example of how capitalist media sustains inequality by masking exclusion under glossy, joyful imagery.

Another important area of critique from hooks relates to intersectionality—the understanding that race, gender, and class intersect to create unique experiences of marginalization. While the Glo ad might seem inclusive because of its all-Black cast, hooks would argue that representation alone is not liberation. There is no acknowledgment of the diverse ethnicities, languages, or religious affiliations within Nigeria. All participants appear homogenous in skin tone, style, and mannerisms. There’s little to no representation of hijab-wearing women, disabled individuals, or people from non-Christian traditions. Hooks reminds us that true representation involves inclusion of difference, not tokenism. A commercial that seeks to portray national unity must confront the complexities of the population it represents. Instead, the Glo advert creates a narrow standard of Nigerian identity—young, stylish, urban, and Christian—which undermines its message of inclusivity. Through hooks’ lens, this becomes an act of symbolic violence: the selective visibility of certain identities erases others, reinforcing a hierarchy of cultural worth.

Finally, bell hooks’ critique of the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy helps expose how even a Nigerian-made advert can participate in global systems of oppression. While there is no white presence in the Glo commercial, hooks would caution against equating “Black-produced” with “liberatory.” The commercial adopts a global advertising style—quick cuts, glamour shots, synchronized dance routines, and polished cinematography—that is rooted in Western capitalist aesthetics. The holiday cheer, while warm and inviting, is monetized. Glo doesn’t just sell connectivity; it sells a lifestyle that aligns with global consumer culture. The performance of joy is not simply cultural—it is an economic strategy. Hooks warns that under capitalism, even Black joy becomes a product, and the performance of community becomes a brand identity. Thus, rather than empowering its audience, the advert subtly teaches viewers what kinds of bodies, voices, and aesthetics are acceptable, profitable, and worthy of celebration. In doing so, it reinforces a cultural order that remains fundamentally capitalist, patriarchal, and exclusionary—even when draped in African skin.

In conclusion, the Glo “Feliz Navidad, Nigerians” advert, though positioned as a heartwarming celebration of Christmas and Nigerian unity, embodies several problematic elements when viewed through bell hooks’ feminist and intersectional lens. The use of Western cultural symbols, the sidelining of women’s agency, the erasure of class diversity, and the commodification of joy all reflect the influence of capitalist, patriarchal systems embedded in modern advertising. Bell hooks teaches us to look beyond surface-level inclusion and to interrogate the structures that shape what we see and who we see. In doing so, we come to understand that representation without critical awareness can become yet another tool of domination. The advert may bring smiles during the festive season, but it also reinforces a narrow and marketable version of Nigerian identity—one shaped more by global capitalism than by the true diversity and complexity of the Nigerian people.