Movies

“Stories of Our Lives” shares the unheard stories of being queer in Kenya

Stories of Our Lives is a Kenyan film comprised of five shorts based off the true stories of LGBTQ Kenyans. Although successfully making the film circuit rounds, the movie has, sadly, never been shown publicly in Kenya, where the Film Classification Board banned it.

We recently spoke with writer/director Jim Chuchu about the film’s lesbian storylines, the current situation of Kenya’s queer community, and the criminal charges that came as a result of the film.

AfterEllen.com: Can you tell me how the story behind the short “Ask Me Nicely” came to be?

Jim Chuchu: This film was made as a result of a research project where we went around the country collecting interviews from queer people.

AE: So this short, all the elements in it were factual?

JC: Yes. They were factual, anonymous. We only chose that section of the story because it’s a narrative that we kept hearing over and over again. About how school administrations treat this kind of—I guess some would call it experimentation or this kind of discovery. This kind of underage sexuality. This language of suspension and expulsion from schools—it happens so much in all the stories of people we talked to.

AE: The principal in “Ask Me Nicely” disciplines the two girls over rumors of a relationship. Is such behavior from educators common in Kenya?

JC: Oh yeah. Especially with what they call “lesbianism,” which is popularly said to begin in high school.

AE: Even if it’s just rumors, it’s enough for an educator to go in and discipline someone over?

JC: We had so many stories about people who weren’t actually doing anything, you know, anything queer, but then they’d be sent away just for dressing a little different from all the other girls.

AE: In that same short, we see Kate having sex with Angelo to confirm whether or not she prefers women. That’s a scenario that often occurs in the Western world as well. Were you trying to show a parallel?

JC: There are a lot of things that are common to the global queer experience, especially when we are younger, if you’re trying to figure yourself out. And so I guess I could say that about the entire film, as being an answer to that idea of what it’s like to be queer in Africa. That there’s angry mobs everywhere you go, but there’s also a little space for existence and for self-discovery.

AE: Was there any personal narrative attached to the surreal short “Each Night I Dream”?

JC: There’s the narrative about the tree, which is a very old myth that we’ve heard over and over again. That fig tree being a kind of weird tree that if you go around it several times backwards you change your gender. While we were talking about this film someone reminded us about that story. And we’d never—I’d never really thought about that story from a queer perspective. So it was interesting to explore an old, old story and look at it from this lens.

In there, there’s a little question about this whole idea about being homosexual is un-African, which is also dealt with in the film. And yet you have all these stories where gender was fluid. That film was very much about also thinking about if homosexuality is un-African then who are these homosexuals and where do they come from?

AE: Over what period of time did you gather these stories?

JC: It’s taken two years. We just finished the last couple of interviews early this year. So we started in 2013.

AE: Given the subject matter, was it hard to find actors to agree to work on this project?

JC: Not really. Surprisingly we had a whole bunch of actors who were very well-known and have been acting for a long time in the Kenyan industry, and they were still kind of very psyched to be in this film. We had newcomers who had never acted before, especially in the last short. They had never acted before. So we had a mixture of experiences.

AE: Any backlash for the actors and crew?

JC: Other than the criminal charges that they pressed against the executive producer…

AE: Oh really? The Kenyan authorities?

JC: Yeah. After the premiere of the film in Toronto. It premiered in 2014 at the TIFF, and then we came back to Kenya and then there was all this press from Toronto about the film.

To screen the film publicly in Kenya you have to get a license from the Film Classification Board. You have to get a rating. And so when we presented the film to them they banned it. And then they pressed criminal charges against an executive producer, who’s a member of the collective, for shooting without a license.

AE: Where do things stand right now?

JC: It’s a criminal charge and the penalties are 150,000 shillings [about $1,500 USD] and/or seven years in prison. So that was in October last year and then they dropped the case this year.

AE: So has your film been publicly shown in Kenya at all?

JC: No, it hasn’t. In a way, the fact that the film hasn’t really been seen in Kenya has somehow protected the cast from any kind of craziness. Except that one actress of ours says that after Toronto she got an eviction notice from her landlord.

AE: Even for you, there must be some pain in the fact that your movie—which is all about Kenyans—can’t be shown in your homeland. What are your feelings about that?

JC: Well, it’s definitely very frustrating because just before we left for Toronto we showed the film to the cast and some of the people who supported us in the making of the film. And it was such an emotional screening—in a way that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Kenyan audience reacting like that to a film. And so we really were excited to come back and show the film, because when we made this film we were making it primarily for the queer community, because we felt like they had never seen themselves in a way that’s respectful or truthful. And so when we were denied that chance, that’s kind of disappointing.

AE: What is the situation like for LGBTQ people in Kenya?

JC: The experience is vastly different depending on exactly where you live and kind of where you are in all these social classes. There’s all these things that play into the situation.

There are people who are on the frontline of a particular kind of violence against queer people, in terms of evictions, and harassment, and being arrested by police. And kind of being in that grey space where you’re not really being prosecuted for anything, but you’re under temporary arrest. But then there’s also a whole other bunch of people who are openly gay and they never get to be on that particular frontline, just because of the way Kenya works. So it’s very different for everyone.

AE: Can you speak, to the best of your knowledge, about the situation of lesbian and bisexual women in Kenya?

JC: Women are also on another kind of frontline just because of being women. And so there’s another type of violence that’s particular to the lesbian and bisexual women community. Sexual violence is a reality for them in a way that it’s not for the guys. It’s much harder to be a black lesbian in Africa than to be a black gay man.

And then also in some other ways it’s also different because there’s this weird kind of straight male permissibility of lesbians, which is like this strange sexualized way of looking at lesbians. And so in some ways it’s also a little easier to be a lesbian or bisexual woman in Kenya because of that weird permissibility that’s kind of gross.

AE: What did you hope to accomplish with this movie, and do you believe you have accomplished it?

JC: For us this project was about presenting queer people as people. As people who have feelings, as people who fall in love, make mistakes and learn, and all these things. I guess some people would say that it’s a “normalizing” that we are trying to do. And it’s precisely that reason that the film was restricted. The Classification Board says that the film promotes homosexuality, which is contrary to the national norms and values. I guess that idea that queer people are just people is still a very political thing to say here.

Whether we’ve achieved it? In some ways the fact that the film exists, whether or not people have seen it, was still quite a movement because there’s nothing that’s been done like that here. And the fact that a group of Kenyans could make a film about queer people that then is received warmly by audiences is still a very political thing. So in a way we have raised a visibility of queerness that’s not ashamed.

AE: Are you still fighting for the opportunity to show the film in Kenya? Are you hopeful?

JC: We’ve always described the film as being in exile. After some time, the exiles end up coming home.

Stories of Our Lives is screening at Frameline in San Francisco on June 22 and 27. Check out the movie’s Facebook page to find out when it’ll be playing at a film festival near you

Lesbian Apparel and Accessories Gay All Day sweatshirt -- AE exclusive

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Back to top button