The Nairobi Film Festival kicked off last week, and yes, it did open with a bang. The opening night was well-organised, with a great sense of order right from the start.
The attendance was diverse, bringing together ordinary film fans, cinephiles, people of different backgrounds, abled, disabled, young and old.
The venue management was structured and orderly, and the opening speeches kept a casual, fun atmosphere that was engaging, even though the audience was already excited.
But where does the ‘bang’ come in? Well, the opening film, Ben’Imana, directed and co-written by Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo and Delphine Agut, provided it. This screening was a big deal because it marked the official African premiere of the movie, running as part of the festival’s lineup from October 15 to 25.
I loved the movie, though it certainly left me with a few mixed feelings that we will be discussing later on. Even with what I’m going to share, I need you to always keep in mind that I enjoyed this film.
The basics
Ben’Imana is a 2026 drama film. A multi-national co-production spanning Rwanda, Gabon, France, Norway, and Ivory Coast, the film stars Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi as Vénéranda. Vénéranda is a survivor of the 1994 Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi who, 18 years later, is actively involved in community-led justice, dialogues and reconciliation initiatives.
I am a simple man, give me good visuals and I’m sold, and Ben’Imana is one of those kinds of films. The cinematography is great. The wide landscape shots of Rwanda are breathtaking.
The best part is that the editor/director holds some shots long enough for you to sit back and admire the green, stunning terrain of rural Rwanda, making you feel like you have actually visited the country by the time the credits roll.
The township is treated with respect and realism in its framing, it’s not glorified or flattened into a mere background, it is a big part of the story. The camera work is deliberate in bringing out the best in the actors.
For instance, everyday town life is shot in a way that makes the people feel energetic, real and natural, whereas scenes focusing on legal proceedings and community judgment are framed differently, capturing the gravity of the moment.
There are some impressive close-ups, deliberately used to capture the weight of certain scenes. By lingering on the characters’ faces and eyes, the film pulls you into their emotional states. This commitment to visual realism and clear sense of direction is matched by the linguistic choice to keep the dialogue entirely in its native language with subtitles, bypassing default English-language conventions.
Coupled with incredible casting choices that rely heavily on non-professional actors who look and feel like real people and customs that look lived in, the film takes on an authentic, documentary-like grit.
The story structure and strong direction ensure that even an ordinary person can follow it. Even when you feel lost at some point, the plot reveals details that piece everything together neatly.
Beyond just survival, the story’s greatest strength is its intergenerational approach. It balances the perspectives of older generations, middle-aged survivors, the youth and Gen Zs who are navigating or barely understand the long-term echoes of the genocide.
Alongside the history, the film takes time to explore young romance, teenage pregnancy and generational attitudes towards education and family, making these struggles feel universally human.
At its core, the film examines the concept of forgiveness. Vénéranda is a fascinating protagonist whose public work championing reconciliation contrasts sharply with her private complexities. Watching her navigate these conflicting personalities is gripping.
The film also offers an eye-opening glimpse into Rwanda’s local community-based prosecution and justice system, showing how ordinary people process collective trauma on the ground. So yes, I enjoyed this film, and I need you to keep that in mind through this segment.
Gripes and issues
After a strong build-up across the first two acts, the third act feels somewhat underwhelming. While I appreciated the arcs of some pivotal characters and the quiet symbolism of the cloth and the naming at the very end, several plot threads involving the main character and her daughter felt unresolved and incomplete. But that is something you actively need to seek out, a minor gripe.
Here’s my problem with this film (and again, I enjoyed it). Watching Ben’Imana sparked a broader thought about contemporary African cinema (fiction). I cannot help noticing a recurring trend among critically acclaimed films by African female directors paired with foreign executive producers, they almost exclusively revolve around women and trauma.
While social issues, women and historical wounds are vital storytelling themes, and those stories need to be told, it feels as though festival circuits only validate African stories that are rooted in suffering. Africa has a rich cultural landscape full of vibrant, imaginative stories expressed through music, dance, colour and animation.
Yet a lot of the ‘acclaimed’ films seem to carry this dramatic dark undertone rooted in a painful moment from the continent, paired with good cinematography and a generic sorrowful soundtrack.
That makes movies like Memory of Princess Mumbi a gem, a refreshing experience, because it actively breaks away from expected tropes and demonstrates true creative flair. While these stories need to be told and they are important, there’s also a need to see creatively driven productions beyond wallowing in upheaval. It makes me question the funding systems behind these projects.
Do financing bodies only see value in trauma? Can we not tackle social issues with greater stylistic diversity, colour and artistic expression that reflect the continent’s eccentric nature, instead of trapping our storytelling in a single depressing lane? Is this how, as Africans, these festivals want us to see ourselves?
What am I trying to say here? Tell your socially conscious story, but let’s embrace creativity. Throw in an animated sequence, add a random African dance, or embrace a unique editing style. Even throw in aliens, but with African context. Make something distinctly African beyond the events. Too many of these festival films feel like products of a template.
Final thoughts
I enjoyed Ben’Imana, and it certainly deserves all its accolades. It’s a technically impressive, strongly directed, and engaging film that is well worth watching.
My critique of festival trends does not take away from its strong execution. Fortunately, the Nairobi Film Festival offers a varied lineup, featuring plenty of different stories to explore. I encourage you to grab a ticket, bring a friend and check out the fantastic films representing Africa and beyond.
For Kenya filmmakers
By the way, for filmmakers or people interested in film, there is this thing called Afropean Cinema. It’s a dynamic collaborative initiative by the EUNIC Cluster Kenya alongside key partners like the NBO Film Festival, Kilifi Creek Festival, Docubox and Ateker International Film Festival.
It aims to bring African diaspora filmmakers and curators from Europe into dialogue with Kenyan audiences and film professionals.
Designed to foster cross-cultural exchange, professional networks and capacity-building, the project features screenings of nine thought-provoking films exploring migration, identity and memory, including works by Alain Gomis and Patricia Bbaale Bandak, alongside hands-on masterclasses, workshops and industry panels covering everything from economical filmmaking and first-person storytelling to AI and global market access.
It has been running at the NBO Film Festival and Alliance Française from October 15 to 25. It will as well take place at the Kilifi Creek Festival from October 23 to 31. So if you know someone in the film business, let them know.