Straw: Tyler Perry, Taraji P. Henson, and the Reality of Single Parenthood

 Straw: Tyler Perry, Taraji P. Henson, and the Reality of Single Parenthood

By Daniel Okonkwo 

For many years, I found solace and joy in the world of movies and music. As the former owner of one of the biggest DVD and CD stores in Lagos—Daniels DVD—I was part of a trio of iconic establishments that defined Lagos’ media culture. Alongside Jazz Hole and Westside, Daniels DVD was a destination for lovers of quality entertainment. If you were a movie freak or a true connoisseur of good music, you undoubtedly knew these stores.

While Jazz Hole eventually brought legendary jazz musicians from the U.S. to perform in Nigeria and Westside built a reputation for discovering and signing musical talent, Daniels DVD evolved into Daniels Entertainment, a full-fledged record label under my direction. We signed a couple of promising artists and contributed to Nigeria’s rich musical legacy. With my deep immersion in the arts, I’ve watched countless films, listened to unforgettable songs, and developed an instinctive feel for storytelling—especially the kind that reveals something true about the human condition.

That’s why Tyler Perry’s Straw struck such a powerful chord with me. Straw, one of Tyler Perry’s latest films, is not your typical melodrama. It’s a raw, unfiltered portrait of survival—of a single mother on the edge, trying to keep her world from crumbling in the face of relentless hardship. The film’s protagonist, Janiyah, played with heartbreaking authenticity by Taraji P. Henson, is a Perry heroine in the truest sense: someone unseen, unheard, yet deeply irrepressible.

She’s just trying to survive, just trying to be a great mother to her daughter. The plot unfolds over a single chaotic day in Janiyah’s life as she tries to care for her sick daughter while battling poverty, indifference, and social exclusion. The pressure mounts to unbearable levels until she reaches her breaking point. She is forced to make impossible choices in a society that offers no safety net.

This story hit home for me—not just as a viewer or reviewer—but as someone who has spent time listening to the hidden, bitter truths of people’s lives through my work in journalism.

What Straw captures so poignantly is a cruel truth many single parents know too well: when you're poor, society stops seeing you. You become invisible. And when you’re a single mother, that invisibility is often coupled with judgment and discrimination. The odds are stacked, and even your smallest victories are hard-won.

Women raising children without a partner—whether due to divorce, separation, widowhood, or choice—often face a unique set of challenges: economic strain, lack of social support, emotional burnout, and deeply rooted societal bias. Many are forced to juggle different jobs just to make ends meet, all while trying to be present and nurturing for their children. The balancing act is relentless, and the cost—physical, emotional, and mental—is immense.

Add to this the stigma they endure: labeled as irresponsible, immoral, or unfit. In patriarchal societies, single motherhood is often viewed through a distorted, punitive lens. 

But what society fails to acknowledge is that single mothers demonstrate adaptability. Despite the odds, they rise each day to fight for their children’s futures. They carry emotional burdens in silence, often without appreciation or applause.

Taraji P. Henson’s portrayal of Janiyah is not just acting—it’s lived experience. Her real-life journey mirrors that of her character in many ways. Starting in Los Angeles with limited resources, Henson worked multiple jobs while chasing her dream of becoming an actress. Her breakthrough roles in Baby Boy, Hustle & Flow, and eventually Empire as Cookie Lyon are not just career milestones—they are monuments to her perseverance, grit, and bouncebackability.

Her life, like Straw, shows us that the path to success is often paved with unimaginable challenges—but also with courage and relentless determination.

My work in journalism has transformed how I see people. It has taught me humility and compassion. When you speak to individuals at their lowest—when they share their pain, struggles, and shame—you learn to stop judging and start listening.

You also learn that your words have weight. Every story told and every article published has the power to shape public opinion and influence lives. You become responsible not just for your voice, but for the voices you amplify.

Straw reminded me of those stories—those invisible lives I’ve come across. People passed by every day, never truly seen.

While Straw centers on single motherhood, it is important to note that single fathers, too, face their share of discrimination. From biased custody battles to doubts about their parenting capabilities, they fight a different, yet equally unjust, battle. Gendered assumptions often marginalize fathers who step up, making them invisible in a different way.

Single parents—regardless of gender—face a high risk of depression, anxiety, and chronic stress. These challenges are compounded by financial strain, lack of rest, social stigma, and the immense pressure of parenting alone. Burnout is common. So is emotional isolation. Yet many press on, unseen and uncelebrated.

Straw gives a face to this struggle. It forces us to confront how easily we overlook the people who carry the heaviest loads.

If you want a film that entertains, Straw delivers. But if you want a film that changes how you see the world, it does that too.

Tyler Perry, in collaboration with Taraji P. Henson, Sherri Shepherd, Teyana Taylor, and others, has crafted a story that is both timely and timeless. It is a cinematic call for empathy, support, and recognition of those fighting silent battles every day.

As someone who has lived in the worlds of film, music, and journalism, I can tell you that Straw is more than a movie. It is a mirror, a movement, and a message. It asks us to look beyond appearances, beyond assumptions, and truly see those around us.

So, please—go watch Straw. And the next time you pass someone who looks like they’re struggling, don’t just walk by. Look again. Listen harder. Be kinder.

Because sometimes, all it takes to save someone is to notice they’re there.

 Profiles International Human Rights Advocate

Straw: Tyler Perry, Taraji P. Henson, and the Reality of Single Parenthood