I finally watched Joewackle's short film 'Nyame Mma'

No, I’m still not done talking about our trip to Kumasi. Did you know that at pIAR, a good number of presentations and share sessions happen at night after everyone has finished their meal together? This time, the presentation was a film. The wall they share with their neighbours was used as the background for projection; it’s basically an outdoor cinema. On a breezy evening, we watched Nyame Mma, a short film by Ghanaian writer and director, Joewackle J. Kusi. 

After dinner, we cleared the table and arranged our chairs in the yard for the evening presentation. Thankfully, the mosquitoes gave us that night off, so we sat and enjoyed the breeze. I looked around and tried to guess whose presentation we were about to see, but after a few minutes, someone walked to the front and introduced themselves as a representative from LGBTRightsGhana.

They said a couple of things I don’t remember because I stopped listening after I heard “short film” and “Nyame Mma." I was too busy imagining the music, the cinematography, and everything else I’d heard good things about. I knew I’d end up watching it later in life if I wasn’t able to make it to any of the film festivals that were screening it. Until this surprise movie night at pIAR, I happily watched from social media as the cast and crew received awards and praise for their work on the film.

I was finally getting to watch a short film by a young Ghanaian director, at an outdoor cinema, surrounded by other queer Ghanaians? Omg. I should have known from the lack of mosquitoes that day, that something different was happening. Anyway, I quickly put my excitement away so I could focus on the screen.

Nyame Mma begins with haunting vocals I immediately recognise as Ria Boss'. She hums and wails until the title of the film covers the screen and the first scene is set—a gorgeous wide shot of open water dancing underneath the rising sun. It's the kind of shot that tells me what kind of film I'm about to see. There's something about sunset and sunrise on film that feels very reflective and vulnerable. For someone who refuses to watch trailers and read movie summaries, I was happy to know I was right.

I probably can't list all the themes in the movie, and that's a good thing. There are some that speak to the state of the country in terms of national development and others that most young Ghanaians can relate to, like estranged adult friendships and job insecurity. Queer Ghanaians can relate to the challenges the main character faced with his family: being loved but not fully accepted, and therefore having to separate yourself from them. There's a profound sadness I feel almost every time I watch anything that shows the queer experience. Watching the characters try to navigate queerphobia in addition to all the struggles of being a person is difficult, but the main character in this film expressed much less than I expected him to. It almost seemed like a tired acceptance of life. The third time I watched the film, I couldn't unsee it.

One step at a time, though, so I'll start with the first time I watched it. I noticed the main character's reservedness throughout the movie. He only smiled with his old friend, and while he talked about his job and family issues, he didn’t share much; he shrugged like it was nothing. I expected a more clearly emotional performance throughout the film—especially on the night of the party—but on my second watch, I realised his silence for most of the film conveyed all the emotion it needed to. You know when you're having a bad day and you're able to keep it together somehow, but one little thing goes wrong and you crash out? Eventually, he had one of those moments.

For someone (me) who only started crying and feeling a tangible sadness no less than four hours after their most intense breakup, I should understand. I remember I spent most of the day feeling like a zombie until I heard one song, then I crashed. So you know what, Kwamena? I feel you. (Kwamena is the main character of the film.) I also think gender stereotypes and the effects of queerphobic violence played a major part in the way the character experienced and expressed his grief. “Boys don’t cry” and all.

Africa Rising International Film Festival described Nyame Mma as a film that "explores how lack of space for queer men and male greiving makes their loss very isolating." Yes, I eventually checked the reviews after watching the film twice. Isolation might be a major theme in the film, now that I think about it. Everyone who worked on the film succeeded in conveying that aloneness: the actors, the cinematographers and sound designers, and of course the writer and director, Joewackle J. Kusi.

As someone working on a project concerned with LGBTQ+ documentation, I'm excited Ghana finally has a queer movie shot in Ghana and written by a Ghanaian living in Ghana. Nyame Mma is queer, and it's Ghanaian through and through: multiple Ghanaian languages are spoken throughout the film; obituaries and campaign flyers are pasted on walls and gates; the main character sits on the back of a commercial motorbike and then in a loading taxi... It’s very much for us, by us.

Nyame Mma was featured in Festival De Cannes in France last year and landed the main character the Accra Indie Film Fest award for Best Actor and the director a Grand Cheese Prize for Best Director. This year, it was listed as an official selection for the Pan African Film Festival. If you're wondering why you haven't heard of this movie, well, it's because... Ghana we dey, if you know what I mean. It's been out for at least 6 months, but I only just got a chance to watch it during D.A.P.'s Kumasi trip.

For more information on the film, future screenings, or any more of the director's work, follow Joewackle on socials. I’ve done my best to write about the film without spoiling it because I want you to watch it. When you do, send me a message on our Twitter or Instagram, and we can do a full, real-time review.