Nairobi story of hard knocks

Though it can feel like a deliberate attempt to copy genre greats, the film tells a believable story of life in Kenya.

Urban myths have their lure. Reverent tales of notoriety from both those familiar and shocked with the big city life are very engaging. They often develop a steady vocabulary of their own; words that serve to distinguish and lift these stories from being just common occurrences into legend. Nairobbery is such a term.

Tales regarding this word are often delivered in a tone of caution or -for those who love a story for story’s sake – a sickly exultation. But sometimes a story is simply a story, sometimes confining itself onto the pages or the domain of the story teller.

However when a story is transformed into a good film, then it comes to life. Its stays, it haunts. It concretises, it actualises. And such was the case with the Best Foreign Language category Oscar nominated Kenyan film Nairobi Half Life.

The film was one of the most talked about features in the recently concluded Amakula Film Festival at the National Theatre. A necessary check-in with the PR for the festival and culture buff Moses Serugo induced a promise tinged with a warning, “Nairobi Half Life is the Kenyan version of the South African film Tsotsi. However, you need to be around on time. The place is expected to fill up as we anticipate a great attendance from the Kenyan community.” He was accurate on both accounts.

Nairobi Half Life is at once full of lively acting, come-back dialogue, gross scenes amidst exhaustive plotting. Mwas (Joseph Wairimu) plays an ambitious actor with an eye on the big lights. His pastime is re-echoing the memorable words of Leonidas in 300 to market places where he brings business to a standstill with his impassioned recitations. But rural Kenya has become too small for his talents. This coupled with a drunken and disillusioned father and a submissive suffering mother encourage him to go to Nairobi to purchase his bread with a professional acting career.

Startled into wakefulness by the scents, sound and the close contact of the city; his naiveté stops him from envisioning upon himself the dangers that he perceives around. Cars are being stripped of their accessories and in Nairobi business goes on as usual. He is soon relieved off his belongings and finds himself in jail, helpless; except for a privileged convict Oti (Olwenya Maina) who offers him a contact on the out side who he should see for a job when he gets out.

Having discarded his naiveté, Nairobi promises a fruitful criminal life when he joins Oti’s gang (the latter having now come out of prison too). The plot then serves up conflict with rival gangs, crooked cops and the forbidden but inevitable love.

Yet this is not The Godfather, and that is where the comparisons stop. These gangsters are not the black-suited, pasta eating, wine sipping lot intent on massive corporate takeovers. Their preserve is crude liquor and illicit sex; they are a ragamuffin bunch specialised in robbing unsuspecting street ladies and the occasional fat businessman.

There were hilarious scenes. A band of alley thieves turn the shout of “thief, thief, thief…” onto the pursuing victim. It is the most times the essence of African film; to acknowledge absurdity by laughing at it. There was grossness too. My neighbors cringed when Mwas, in cleaning a prison toilet generously heaped with excrement, slips- becoming one with the waste.

He however knows how to eat his frog, fat and joyfully. He henceforth cleans the toilet whistling with the lifted manner of one raking yellow leaves on a sunny day to the shock of other inmates.
The ending is pulsating and we look out to see how Mwas does with the acting. But yes, we should all look out for this movie.

editorial@ug.nationmedia.com