Across the Niger rocks Plateau International Film Festival

The event turned out to be more of a filmmaker’s workshop than a film festival, as very few films were screened, and most of those that were shown seemed to be short films by NFI students and alumni. Despite Jos being one of the oldest centres of the Hausa film industry and despite the theme […]

The event turned out to be more of a filmmaker’s workshop than a film festival, as very few films were screened, and most of those that were shown seemed to be short films by NFI students and alumni. Despite Jos being one of the oldest centres of the Hausa film industry and despite the theme of peace, which one would have hoped would bring together filmmakers of all backgrounds, there were no Kannywood filmmakers included in the program, either on the panel discussion “film as a tool for peace and nation building,” in the filmmaking master classes, or in the films screened.

 

Jos-based Hausa filmmaker Sani Mu’azu of Lenscope Media did rush back from a trip to Abuja to attend the festival on Friday afternoon,  but he was not included in any formal way in the event. However, despite these problems, I did enjoy the filmmaking focus of the festival, particularly the directing master class taught by Bankole Bello, director of the Yoruba films Efunsetan Aniwura (1982) and Oselu (1996) and cinematographer on many other projects.  I was also delighted at the chance to see Kingsley Ogoro’s production Across the Niger (2004), brought to the festival by Nollywood researcher Anouk Batard. The film, which was screened on 26 November, deals with the legacy of the Biafra war for one mixed Igbo-Hausa family. The timing seemed particularly appropriate when the news arrived Saturday that Biafran leader Chukwuemeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu had passed away the same day. While not exactly a tribute to him, the film invoked Biafra, exploring the consequences of war and hatred, and seemed to resonate with the Jos-based audience, who shouted and laughed and sighed as they watched the film.

Across the Niger, directed by Izu Ojukwu, tells the story of the soldier Dubem (Kanayo O. Kanayao), the son of an Igbo ruler, who during the Biafra war flees northern Nigeria with his Hausa bride Habiba (Rekia Atta) and his soldier buddy (Charles Awurum) back south across the Niger river towards his home. A suspense filled journey gives way to the challenges of presenting his Hausa wife to an Igbo community that has been scarred and traumatized from attacks by Northern troops and to a father (Pete Edochie) who had chosen another bride for his son. The film has stunning cinematography (including some great underwater shots and beautiful use of natural lighting), a suspense filled plot, an evocative soundtrack, and a powerful symbolic ending. Several audience members enthused about the film, one expressing that this was the first time she had been really excited while watching a Nigerian film.

Another audience member pointed that one of the greatest strengths of the film was in its originality: the film left you guessing, you couldn’t tell what was going to happen next and you couldn’t predict the end. I don’t think I have seen another Nigerian film that does such a good job of recreating a historical environment. Particularly good use was made of historical documentary footage that was mixed into the narrative of the film alongside re-created radio broadcasts that helped advance the historical progression of the story. At points we see planes, trains, and cars from the 1960s. I also enjoyed the performances of supporting actors Ireti Doyle as Dubem’s feisty Igbo fiancé Nneka and Charles Awurum as his loyal friend.

There are, of course, still some disappointingly obvious flaws in the film, mostly in the script and direction.  The film begins in the middle of the action with very little explanation of why Dubem, as a soldier, was fleeing alone south with his wife. Flashbacks seem random with little follow-up in the main narrative. Several loose ends are left hanging, the most jarring of which is when the travelers come across some abandoned children, who disappear with no explanation from the story midway through the film. I also thought, despite Kanayo O. Kanayo’s powerful performance, that he and Rekia Atta seemed a bit mature-looking to be playing the role of young star-crossed lovers, and although some of her scenes were quite poignant, Rekia Atta at times seemed overly whiny. Some of this could be due to moments of weak dialogue in the script.

Overall, however, I thought the film was a powerful one. Several audience members opined that the multiple war scenes were extraneous and pointed out that it was difficult to tell which soldiers belonged to which side. However, I actually thought the spectacle of the war scenes, with the confusion about who the soldiers are, contribute to the feeling of the “fog of war.”  The disorientation reminded me of Keno Saro-Wiwa’s brilliant novel Sozaboy, in which the main character wanders aimlessly between the Nigerian and Biafran sides of the war, the initial ideology that led to his joining the Biafran army lost in the miasma of horrors he sees. Across the Niger is not a film that delves into the political motivations of the war but rather on its effects:  the devastation the fighting has on families and villages, the personal tragedies that are multiplied and mirrored on a national level. Here viewed through a lens of the 21st century, the violence seems senseless, the soldiers shoot at anyone. The bloodshed we see close up is the result of prejudice and greed.

And while we do lose something in stories that do not explain the complex politics of the time and the reasons Biafrans were so passionate about their cause (Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novel Half A Yellow Sun, by contrast, does this very well), sometimes it is just as important to be shown how the consequences of war magnify a hundred times the hostility that led to the conflict. Whatever the motivations, hatred and violence will only end in tragedy. The greatest challenge to injustice comes not in battle but in love and the realization that in coming together with those we once considered enemies, we become stronger.

This is a point also made well in Hamisu Lamido Iyan-Tama’s film Tsintsiya/Broom (2008), which also explores an Igbo-Hausa romance set amidst ethno-religious conflict in Kano, and it would have been an interesting complement to Across the Niger at a festival committed to peace and nation-building . Others planning film events to promote conversations about peace might consider watching the two together.

While flawed, the Plateau International Film Festival, in its second edition, was a good start, and the theme an important one. I hope in the future the festival will extend beyond the Film Institute to involve more of the active commercial filmmakers in Jos both in planning the event and in contributions for screenings.

I’d also love to see a festival, as researcher Anouk Batard suggested privately to me, take advantage of the archives of the Jos-based  Film Corporation and the National Film Institute to bring out older Nigerian films like Adamu Halilu’s Shehu Umar, Brendan Shehu’s Kulba na Barna, and other films held in the archives. These films are almost impossible to find otherwise, and it would be good for Nigerian filmmakers and audiences to be able to have the opportunity to be able to see the Nigerian films one hears about as being important to Nigerian film history but which few have ever seen. Ultimately, if these institutions want Nigerians to make more films that explore the history of this nation, they need to give filmmakers access to films that were a part of that history.