On Becoming a Guinea Fowl
How a community marred by generations of shared experiences and silencing comes together to fight back. Or how one can become a guinea fowl.
Rungano Nyoni’s “On Becoming a Guinea Fowl” comes seven years after her last feature film “I Am Not a Witch.” In Zambia, we follow the immediate aftermath of how a family deals with the loss of a loved one. And again in her second feature film, Nyoni portrays the bonds and intimate way of life of a community through the lens of our main characters. Shula (Susan Chardy) is our guiding force for what is in store after the death of her Uncle Fred (Roy Chisha).
Shula starts and ends the film charging towards what is in front of her. In an odd opening sequence, we begin by seeing a sapped Shula drive along a run-of-the-mill road. The camera sticks on her face, as she adorns an almost fantastically sized black jumpsuit and some sort of futuristic headgear.
Quickly, we catch a glimpse of a man lying in the middle of the road. After a few glances, Shula comes to a halt, parks on the side of the road, and calls her father. After an almost off-beat stroll over to the body, we find out it is her Uncle Fred. Throughout it all, Shula remains unfazed.
Not only do we see Shula actually at the cusp of a crossroads. Nyoni, too, in a fairly blunt manner indicates that there is a larger crossroads ahead.
Uncle Fred does not appear in the film after that opening scene. Only by word-of-mouth and through the pensiveness that hovers over all of those shaped by his life and actions. Wonderfully executed by Nyoni, we are now positioned to view Uncle Fred in an allegorical nature. The actions, nature, and presence of a man celebrated, yet one who represents something completely different in the minds of those he inflicted.
The first half of the film follows Shula in her best efforts to make the funeral and those around her as comfortable as possible. For instance, Shula’s closest family member is Nsansa (Elizabeth Chisela). At first, she appears troublesome, loudmouthed, and a yin to the yang of Shula. I quite enjoyed the first scene of them together, where Shula does everything in her power to prevent Nsansa from entering the car with her.
Their familial bond, though, strengthens as it is evident they both share a similar experience with the recently deceased Uncle Fred.
Another relationship we become privy to is the one with her father (Henry B.J. Phiri). He is a partygoer, oft absent man who we can see cares for his daughter deep down. Still, he cannot protect and support her. In lieu, we see on several occasions that Shula begrudgingly is the one propping up her father's vices and shortcomings. It is not until an interaction later in the film that we see the false bravado and ambivalence of her father come down. Again, it is under the ubiquitous umbrella of Uncle Fred.
While those two figures play their part in Shula’s fight to effect change, it is her youngest cousin Bupe (Esther Singini) that stands out. We first see her in emotional and physical dismay in her college dorm room. Soon thereafter, hospitalized. It is revealed that Uncle Fred assaulted her, as well. The eery introduction to Bupe abruptly foreshadows the tonal shift this film experiences in its latter stages.
Compared to the beginning and middle of the movie, the last thirty minutes fly. Shula begins as a woman trying to survive a couple of days with the family. Ultimately, her focus is on how she can ignite change for them.
That scene that cements what is to come is when Shula and Nsansa face their aunts in a small room. As the elder women of the community, we are to believe this is yet another example of silencing this younger group of women. A reminder to those younger to know their place, know their role, and not to deviate from expectations. What we get instead reminds the viewer that there is hope. The rumblings of change materialize.
Nyoni’s second feature film is worth celebrating. As in Nyoni’s screenplay, we continue to find global stories magnifying the sins of our forefathers. This film is yet another stark reminder of the work still discernible worldwide on protecting those most marginalized from the life-altering impacts of sexual assault.