If we don’t tell these stories, silence wins – Chavala Yaduma

Filmmaker and founder of Vala Films, Chavala Yaduma, is using storytelling as more than just a creative outlet. Through socially conscious narratives centred on women, justice, and lived experiences, she is exploring how film can challenge silence, spark reflection, and push difficult conversations into the open. In this interview with Weekend Trust, Yaduma speaks about […]

Filmmaker and founder of Vala Films, Chavala Yaduma, is using storytelling as more than just a creative outlet. Through socially conscious narratives centred on women, justice, and lived experiences, she is exploring how film can challenge silence, spark reflection, and push difficult conversations into the open. In this interview with Weekend Trust, Yaduma speaks about her journey into filmmaking, the struggle to finance socially driven stories in Nigeria, and why she believes stories have the power to reshape how society sees issues like gender-based violence and inequality.

 

What first drew you into filmmaking, and when did you realise it could be a tool for social change?

It  was my urge to express myself more. I’ve always had so much to say and so many thoughts in my head, so I started writing really young, probably from like age six. Eventually, writing alone didn’t feel enough anymore. I wanted to actually visualise the thoughts in my head and bring them to life. Eventually, I decided to try filmmaking and it just stuck. I completely fell in love with it.

At the same time, I’ve always been a humanitarian at heart. I care a lot about people, society, and the world around me, so naturally I started leaning towards stories that reflected that side of me too. I realised film could be more than entertainment. It could make people feel things, question things, and actually pay attention. So merging storytelling and advocacy together just felt very natural for me.

 

As a filmmaker and advocate, how do you decide which stories are worth telling in a world already full of noise?

I usually just go with the stories I connect with the most at the time. I write ideas down all the time and keep a lot of them for years, but there are certain stories that just won’t leave me alone. There’s this pressure I start feeling in my gut to flesh them out properly.

That pressure can come from anything really. Something I experienced, something happening in the world, something I came across online, or even just a random thought that keeps growing in my head. I think the stories worth telling are usually the ones that move you enough that you can’t ignore them anymore.

 

Your work often sits at the intersection of art and activism. How do you balance storytelling with advocacy without one overpowering the other?

For me, storytelling always comes first. I never go into a project trying to preach or push a message onto people. I just try to tell honest, human stories about things I care deeply about. My heart has always been with humanity, and because I care about people and the world around me, it finds its way into the work without me forcing it. But I still want the films to feel cinematic, emotional, and entertaining as well. I think people connect more when they feel immersed in a story instead of feeling like they’re being lectured.

 

Many of your themes centre around women, justice, and lived experience. Why are these perspectives important to you personally?

Because I am a woman and I see how deeply systems affect women every day. I experience it myself; the women around me experience it, and honestly it’s impossible for me to ignore.

I’ve never liked the idea of just existing in the world without contributing something meaningful to it. Storytelling is the tool I have and the thing I know best, so naturally I use it to speak on the things that matter to me. A lot of my work comes from that place.

 

In your view, what role does storytelling play in shifting how society understands issues like gender-based violence and inequality?

It plays a huge role because the media shapes how people think, whether we realise it or not. Stories can make people care about things they would normally ignore. They can make people uncomfortable, emotional, reflective… and I think that’s important. With issues like gender-based violence and inequality, storytelling helps humanise things. It moves issues away from statistics and turns them into real human experiences. Change is not always immediate, but stories slowly shift narratives over time and get people to start questioning systems and behaviours they’ve normalised.

 

Do you think Nigerian cinema is doing enough to reflect the realities of women today? If not, what’s missing?

I actually think Nigerian cinema is trying and there are definitely filmmakers doing important work. But there’s still room for more honesty, more depth, and more support for these kinds of stories.

I think what’s really missing most of the time is funding and access. A lot of socially conscious films are harder to finance because people don’t always see them as commercially attractive. But these stories are important and deserve just as much support as mainstream entertainment.

 

What has been your biggest challenge as a filmmaker working on socially conscious narratives?

Convincing people that these stories are worth investing in. That’s honestly the hardest part. Socially conscious filmmaking can be a difficult sell in Nigeria, which is ironic considering how many social issues surround us every single day. People care, but not always enough to back the work financially. So sometimes the biggest challenge isn’t the filmmaking itself. It’s finding the support to tell these stories the way they actually deserve to be told.

 

How do you protect your emotional well-being while telling stories that deal with heavy and traumatic subject matter?

I think anyone working in this space has to be intentional about it, and I’m becoming more conscious of that with every project. These stories don’t leave you at the door. You carry them, and sometimes they sit with you long after the work is done. What helps me is remembering why I tell them. There’s something grounding about knowing the work has a purpose beyond the weight of it. I’m still figuring out the balance, but I’ve learned that the emotional connection I bring to these stories is also part of what makes them land. The goal is to protect that without burning out.

 

Your recent short film, Sanctuary, explores themes of silence and survival in a very intimate way. What inspired you to approach the subject from that emotional, human lens rather than a more direct narrative style?

That intimate, emotional lens is just where I live as a storyteller. I’ve always been more drawn to silence, tension, and human behaviour than to spelling an issue out directly. With Sanctuary, I didn’t want the film to feel like a lecture. I wanted people to feel connected to the characters and emotionally immersed in the story. Documentaries already do an amazing job of directly educating people, but for me, fiction allows you to explore these issues in a more emotional and intimate way that stays with people differently.

 

What do you hope audiences take away from Sanctuary beyond the story itself?

Discomfort. That was very deliberate. I want people to sit and think about the things we ignore, the silence we protect, and the unhealthy ways society sometimes blindly protects systems, power, or even religion at the expense of people. I hope the film creates introspection more than anything. I want audiences to leave thinking about their own role in the things happening around them instead of just watching the story and moving on.

 

What does success look like for you as a filmmaker at this stage of your career?

Success for me right now looks like impact. Of course I want the films to grow, travel, and get recognition, but more than anything I want the work to actually matter.

I want to see more conversations around social justice, more support for filmmakers telling these kinds of stories, and hopefully even real-life impact in communities over time. I want this kind of storytelling to be taken seriously and valued more.

 

If you could change one thing about how society engages with women’s stories, what would it be?

I think I would want people to care more deeply and consistently, not just temporarily when something shocking happens. A lot of women’s stories become headlines for a moment and then people move on while the systems stay exactly the same. Look at cases like Ochanya Ogbanje for instance. Years later and there’s still so much injustice surrounding that story. And there are countless others like that. I think society needs to engage with women’s stories with more empathy, seriousness, and accountability instead of treating them like temporary conversations or just trending hashtags.