Critiquing Glo’s Feliz Navidad Nigeria Commercial Using bell hooks’s Feminist Lens

In this critique, I’m using bell hooks’s ideas to look deeper at Glo Nigeria’s Christmas ad. Hooks talks about how media tries to seem inclusive by showing diversity, but often misses the real stories behind it — sometimes it even flattens identities or glosses over inequality. The ad has lots of smiling faces, famous musicians, and bright colors, which feel joyful and familiar. But does it also use those smiles to sell something? I want to explore how the ad mixes real cultural warmth with marketing — and where it might fall short using hooks’s lens on race, class, gender, emotional work, and community. Glo’s Christmas ad visually embraces ideas of unity and cultural pride, yet it also fits too neatly into a consumer-friendly image, flattening deeper aspects of racial and social experience. By showing diversity and care without context, the ad risks turning real community connections into a polished brand image. I’ll support this by looking at specific scenes, who’s shown, how they’re shown, the audience they’re aiming at, and what emotional labor is on display. They include us, but only just on the surface. Glo shows everyone smiling and celebrating in green and white, Nigeria’s colors. It feels patriotic and unified, but it also feels a bit perfect — no one looks tired, worried, or different. Look at that scene where the camera moves slowly from one face to another, all smiles, all perfectly dressed. There’s no hint of struggle, no sign of the working-class experiences people live. Hooks says this kind of inclusion can feel more like tokenism — okay, they show you, but they don’t tell your real story. That happy, clean version of us is easier to market to, but harder to live for real. So I kept asking: do I feel seen? Yes, in a celebration kind of way. But do I feel really represented? Not yet. The cameras linger on the famous artists more than the everyday server pouring drinks. The celebrities bring familiarity, but we don’t get anyone’s personal moment — not the uncle in the corner, not the woman washing dishes in another scene. Bell hooks would say true inclusion needs deeper, more honest representation, not just moments that look good on screen.

In Addition, One thing bell hooks talks about a lot is emotional labor — basically, all the unseen work people (especially women, especially Black women) do to make others feel comfortable, happy, or cared for. In this Glo ad, you can feel a lot of that emotional labor happening, but it’s not directly shown or talked about. The ad shows us a perfect party: food is everywhere, everyone is fed, drinks are poured, and the house looks spotless. But who made it happen? Who cooked? Who cleaned? Who’s making sure everyone feels good? The people doing all that work are barely shown. For example, there’s a short scene where someone’s pouring drinks and serving food, but the camera moves away quickly. The focus shifts back to the happy guests, enjoying the moment. This kind of small moment is exactly what hooks would call invisible care work — it’s there, but the ad doesn’t want us to sit with it. Instead, we get smooth shots of the beautiful table and people enjoying themselves. But behind every perfect party is someone who did a lot of work. Another thing is how the women are shown. You see women smiling, welcoming people, making sure the vibe is warm and friendly. hooks always says that women are expected to hold space for others, to carry the emotional weight. In this ad, it feels like that too — the women seem responsible for keeping the happiness flowing, but we don’t see their stories or their feelings. It’s like their job is just to smile and help the scene feel perfect. At the same time, the ad wants us to feel like Glo cares about us. The voiceover talks about family, connection, togetherness — words that make you feel safe and loved. But bell hooks warns us that companies often use this feeling to sell products. Glo isn’t just saying “Merry Christmas.” They’re saying “Merry Christmas, and don’t forget to buy airtime and data.” The emotional labor of the women and workers gets hidden behind the corporate message of unity, and that’s something hooks would tell us to pay attention to.

Furthermore, bell hooks also talks a lot about how capitalism uses culture to make people feel included, but at the same time keeps selling them products that not everyone can afford. When I watch the Glo ad, I feel this. The party looks fancy, the decorations are rich, and everyone is dressed so nicely. But this kind of celebration is not what many Nigerians experience every Christmas. There’s a scene where people walk into the house, everything sparkling, the house huge, the lights glowing green and white everywhere. It looks like a dream. But for many people watching, this is not how their real Christmas looks. They may not have money for big parties, expensive food, or huge gifts. hooks calls this class contradiction: the ad pretends to show “everyone,” but the lifestyle it shows is really middle or upper class. The ad mixes this with consumerism by attaching these happy images to Glo’s services. You feel the warmth of family and celebration, but underneath, it’s encouraging you to buy more data, buy more credit, stay connected by spending more money. hooks says that companies do this on purpose — they use emotional connection to hide the fact that they’re still selling you something. Even the slogan, “Glo Unlimited Christmas,” has that message. It sounds like it’s offering endless love and connection, but really, it’s advertising unlimited data bundles and airtime. hooks would say that capitalism takes real cultural moments like Christmas and turns them into profitable products. The ad makes you want to feel like part of that happy world, but to fully join, you need to spend money. This is how class gets mixed into representation — everyone is “included,” but only some can fully participate. Finally, bell hooks talks about the difference between real community care and what she calls corporate spectacle — where companies make things look like community, but it’s carefully controlled for profit. That’s also what I see happening in this Glo ad. On the surface, it’s about family, togetherness, culture, and celebration. But when you look closer, you can see how every part of it is designed to sell the brand. For example, the celebrities, Simi, Teni, King Sunny Ade — all bring a feeling of cultural pride and tradition. They’re part of our identity as Nigerians. But in the ad, they’re not just singing because it’s Christmas. They’re part of the performance Glo is using to attract attention. Their faces, their music, their talent — all help sell the product. hooks calls this “commodification of culture” — turning real cultural pride into something packaged for profit.

Even the decorations and colors — green and white everywhere, the festive atmosphere — it feels very Nigerian and familiar. But again, it’s carefully arranged to create a perfect image. hooks would say that real community care isn’t about perfect pictures; it’s about people supporting each other beyond what can be sold. The ad creates a beautiful version of Nigerian life but avoids showing the deeper realities of struggle, inequality, or differences that many people still live with.In the end, hooks would warn us to ask: Who benefits from this “unity” the ad shows? Yes, it feels good to see our culture represented, but we also have to see how companies like Glo profit by using that feeling. The community is real — but the version we’re shown in the ad is controlled, polished, and built to sell.

In conclusion, after looking at this ad through bell hooks’s lens, I feel two things at once: happy to see Nigerian culture on screen, but also aware of how easily real emotions can be used for profit. The Glo ad shows family, unity, celebration, and tradition — but always in the most beautiful, clean, and sellable way. hooks reminds us that true representation needs honesty, not just polished images. The women serving food, the working-class people missing from the party, the economic differences that many Nigerians face — all these realities are hidden behind the happy faces.The ad takes real feelings of love and care, mixes them with Nigerian culture, and then connects all of it to the product Glo is selling. hooks would say this is how capitalism works — it sells not just products, but emotions. Glo tells us “family matters,” but at the same time asks us to keep spending money to stay connected. At the end of the day, I ask myself — and I ask you, too: when companies like Glo show us these perfect versions of our culture, are they really celebrating us — or are they just using us to sell something?