When was the last time you stepped into a library? Or are you more of an ‘is there a PDF version?’ kind of person? It’s not really your fault, we live in a digital age built on convenience. But it does make you wonder: what happens to libraries?
That’s where today’s How to Build a Library comes in.
How to Build a Library is a 2025 Kenyan-American documentary directed by Maia Lekow and Christopher King. It follows Shiro Koinange and Angela Wachuka as they work to restore the McMillan Memorial Library in Nairobi, turning what was once a not-so-well-maintained, forgotten colonial building into a hub for readers. The film will open the 6th edition of the NBO Film Festival, running from October 16-26, 2025, at Prestige Cinema, with additional screenings at Kaloleni Social Hall, Docubox, and Unseen Nairobi.
The festival, as always, focuses on Kenyan and African stories that rarely make it to mainstream screens. Now you know where and when to see it, back to the review.
Red flags
Going in, I had little to no expectations. I knew very little about the project, so by the 15-minute mark, a few red flags started popping up.
First, I saw a foundation logo. That usually translates to aligning with a narrative that aligns with that organisation. Then I noticed it was co-directed by a woman and starred women. That has never been a problem, in fact, I condone it. The issue is what that combination tends to signal in modern storytelling.
From what I’ve seen, especially in projects like this, representation often outweighs good storytelling. Weak scripts and ideas still get greenlit as long as they tick what a few people in a boardroom deem as the right social boxes. So yes, I was worried when a couple of frames lingered unnecessarily on random women in the audience for no apparent reason.
Then came the second red flag, a foreign co-director. And again, this has nothing to do with race but with exploitation. Every time I see a foreigner behind the camera in stories from developing countries, I brace myself.
Too often, they show up to tell what they think is an ‘important story,’ collect festival praise, make their money, and disappear. You see it every day on YouTube. Cultural vulturism, profiting off local struggles for credibility. So when I saw a foreign name attached to the project, I was very sceptical.
What worked
But 20 minutes in, I realised I might have been wrong. How to Build a Library is a well-crafted, layered documentary. It spans about five to six years, following Shiro Koinange and Angela Wachuka as they attempt to revive McMillan Memorial Library and its branches in Kaloleni and Makadara.
The timespan alone is impressive, you move through 2017, into the pandemic years, and finally get a glimpse of the events of 2024. It feels like a time capsule, with small, subtle details marking each era.
There’s also historical depth in the storytelling. When the old black-and-white photos and archival clips appear, you’re transported back to colonial Kenya. Those images, portraits, and documents, many hidden for decades, those small moments speak volumes, especially for anyone interested in the country’s history. The library becomes both a time machine and a metaphor.
From the outside, McMillan looks grand. Step inside, and you find decay, neglect, and bureaucracy. The metaphor couldn’t be clearer. Like the McMillan building, Kenya, too, looks fine from the outside.
But as a citizen, you know and see the cracks and decay. Anyone who tries to fix anything here runs into red tape and political egos. The film captures that perfectly. You see it in the behaviours of some librarians, entitled, stubborn, and oddly reflective of our politicians.
People who cling to status even as their institutions collapse. Whether intentional or not, that parallel is perfect.
Technically, the cinematography is grounded and natural. The lighting, colour, and audio stay consistent from 2017 through 2024. You barely notice the passage of time. Nothing feels overproduced or staged.
The dialogue sounds real, crisp, and unfiltered, with natural switches between English, Swahili and Sheng. No one’s performing for the camera, well, apart from one or two scenes that feel a bit off.
I also liked the chemistry between Shiro and Wachuka. There’s a sense of purpose in everything they do. They’re articulate, focused, and committed. You follow them through bureaucracy, funding challenges, and people politics. You see their frustrations, their small wins, and their big moments.
What’s missing, though, is who they are beyond the mission. We get glimpses, a hearing issue here, a pet lover there, something around a necklace, but never a full sense of the people behind the passion. I wanted more humanity, less logistics.
Another thing I appreciated is how the film captures the concept of taking action. These women saw a problem, recognised their passion, and jumped in. Even with all the challenges, they pushed forward. Sometimes small, almost crazy steps can spark something much bigger. And when you look at what they’ve managed to achieve, you can’t help but feel inspired.
Also, let’s be honest, the film makes libraries look cool again. Beyond being a storage for knowledge, they come off as living, breathing community spaces.
It’s also a short, tight experience at only 96 minutes, which works in its favour.
What didn’t work
The film’s biggest weakness is the locations orientation. It never explicitly establishes the libraries visually, where they sit geographically or what they mean to their communities, it’s only implied.
McMillan is at the heart of Nairobi, one of the city’s most recognisable landmarks, yet we never get a wide top-down shot of the building or even a map showing its relation to the city and surrounding buildings.
The same goes for Makadara and Kaloleni. We hear about them, explore the interior, meet a few people, but the social and economic context feels thin.
The second issue is focus. The documentary tries to cover too much: bureaucracy, restoration, politics, colonial history, personal stories, and even African literary culture. It’s ambitious, but without a clear through-line connecting everything.
Then there’s the pacing. While the editing is timely, sharp, and clean, the rhythm is flat. No real highs or lows, it just coasts. There’s no build-up or release; it flows evenly from start to finish. That lack of variation makes the 96 minutes feel longer than it actually is.
The tone also plays it too safe. The film celebrates the women’s journey, which is fine, but it rarely challenges them or the viewer. It never lets moral or ideological tension surface. Everything is framed as a path to something, with only glimpses of struggle.
Great documentaries provoke thought, they make you uncomfortable, they question motives, they dig into contradictions. This one doesn’t quite go there.
By the end, when the text appears about the current state of McMillan Library, everything I had just watched felt like a pitch rather than a full story.
I also thought the last six minutes were unnecessary. Yes, the events were monumental for the country, but compared to the rest of the film, they feel tacked on, more like an afterthought influenced by outside pressure than a natural conclusion.
The title, should’ve been How to Rebuild a Library or How to Restore a Library. ‘Build’ feels misleading given the story’s actual focus.
Final thoughts
That said, How to Build a Library is still worth watching. It’s short, polished, and genuinely inspiring. You follow two women who cared enough to fix something most people overlook. Based on the ending, it’s safe to assume they’re still on that journey.
It may not be groundbreaking, but it’s honest, hopeful, and quietly powerful, a snapshot of what action, persistence, and love for culture can achieve. You know where to see it.