"Whatever happens to Lagos Comic Con affects the entire industry" - Erivic Adedayo

The 13th Lagos Comic Convention arrived with promise, themed The Village Effect and billed as one of the continent’s most important gatherings of comic and pop culture enthusiasts. Over the years, the convention has grown into a beacon for Nigeria’s creative scene, drawing fans, publishers, cosplayers, and international attention. This year, however, the voices from the “village” were far from unanimous.

TheACE spoke with vendors, fans, creators, media, and newcomers who experienced the event firsthand. Their testimonies, offered anonymously, reflect both pride in what Lagos Comic Con represents and frustration at how it was executed. Together, they paint a picture of an edition caught between ambition and reality.

The Cost of Belonging

“Most studios didn't come due to the high price of the exhibition stand.” – A Vendor

If there was one refrain heard repeatedly, it was about price. General admission stood at ₦5,000, with VIP tickets soaring to ₦20,000. For families, the expense was prohibitive. “I had relatives who wanted to come — about 15 of them, including children,” an attendee explained. “But at ₦5,000 each, it simply wasn’t feasible.”

For exhibitors, the concern was starker still. Stands costing upwards of ₦100,000 yielded little return. Several reported selling far less than in previous years, with some established studios absent altogether. “Compared to last year’s fire, this edition felt dimmer,” one vendor remarked.

Organisation Under Fire

“I wasn't really impressed with the organisation.” – A Panelist

Beyond pricing, organisation was a sore point. Creators described late starts, confused schedules, and poor communication with exhibitors and panellists. “By 11 a.m., when the first panel should have begun, they were still setting up the hall,” said one comic book creator.

Independent media echoed this sentiment. “They didn’t work with their schedule,” one observer noted. “At one point, we were already inside before being told to come back out for ticketing.” The resulting disarray left many questioning whether the convention was losing its grip on professionalism.

Turnout and Atmosphere

“The energy was low, attendance was poor... it felt less like a secondary school event.” - A Fan of LCC

Attendance felt noticeably thinner than in previous years. Fans who had attended multiple editions described the energy as “the weakest yet.” The absence of big-name publishers and animation studios further dampened the atmosphere. “For an event branded as Nigeria’s almighty comic con, this didn’t live up to the name,” one long-time attendee said.

Still, some found the reduced numbers allowed for easier networking. “It’s not just about selling comics,” said one attendee. “It’s about making connections. I got what I came for — but not everyone will say the same.”

Moments of Light

“The event overall was good, the turnout of cosplays and games available was good. “ – A Cosplayer

Despite the criticism, the event was not without its high points. The cosplay competition drew admiration and enthusiasm, with one newcomer calling it “very, very beautiful.” Gamers enjoyed board games and brand activations, while sponsors like Minimie added a splash of colour with lively stands. “The panels were insightful, the photo booths excellent,” a cosplayer reflected. “But the afterparty? Just an MC talking while the hall was cleared.”

The Bigger Question

“It is not just a day of selling comics.” – A Publisher

Industry veterans voiced a deeper concern: whether Lagos Comic Con is losing its essence. “It didn’t feel like a comic con per se,” one attendee said. “There weren’t enough comic brands, and the focus seemed more on profit than community.”

Writers lamented the absence of leading studios that might have used the stage to announce projects or showcase work. “One would expect Lagos Comic Con to be the flagship for the industry,” a journalist remarked. “But clearly, it isn’t there yet.”

Everything is Not As it Seems

“We have gotten the feedback. And we are already addressing the lapses” – Ayodele Elegba

For the sake of balance and objectivity, TheACE team reached out to the organisers, and they had a lot to say. On the issue of high prices, the organiser made known the trickle-down impact of the national economic inflation. With venue prices skyrocketing, there had to be a way to balance the cost, and unfortunately, it trickled down to the ticket costs. “Families, vendors, and attendees are the lifeblood of the convention. Rest assured, we will work towards a better and affordable ticketing structure”, Ayodele Elegba said.

The organisers further admitted to the lapses in organisation. They attributed it to the fact that they did not start in ample time and thus inadequately executed the event. They also mentioned that the low turnout of studios this year was a result of a simultaneous restructuring happening across comic book and animation brands, many of which had no new projects to showcase.

Ayodele Elegba assured TheACE that there would be a press release soon where they would properly address what truly went down behind closed doors and how they are gearing up to make up for all the lapses come 2026.

Our Submission

“I genuinely hope future editions take feedback seriously. Decline is unacceptable.” – A Regular Attendee

The 13th Lagos Comic Convention was not a failure, but it was not the triumph many hoped for either. What the village’s voices reveal is not rejection, but a plea for recalibration. Pricing must be balanced with access, organisation must be tightened, and above all, the heart of the convention — comics and creativity — must remain central.

This year exposed cracks in the model, but it also reaffirmed the hunger for a space where Nigeria’s creative community can gather, showcase, and inspire. The echoes from the village are clear: the people want a Lagos Comic Con that is affordable, organised, and proudly authentic.

If the organisers heed these echoes, the convention can reclaim its role as Africa’s flagship of imagination. If not, the village risks losing faith — and with it, the soul of the gathering.