My Jebba Story turns toward the photographic image as a fragile archive, a preservation of appearance which serves as a passage to memory. The film reflects on moments from the filmmaker’s early years as a fresh film school graduate on Jebba Street, Lagos.
Built from archival photographs, video footage and mixed-media; the film engages a hybrid form that extends cinematic language. It also reflects on formative relationships and influences that shaped the filmmaker’s early practice: a partner who helped clarify his vision and the street that anchored his early practice
Following its African Premiere at the Encounters South African International Documentary Film Festival, I spoke with the director, Kagho Idhebor. In this conversation, he reflects on form, memory, and artistic authenticity.
Elijah Oluwanisola: With My Jebba Story, what do you think you were working against considering the Nigerian context where cinema is expected to look and feel a certain way; and this is clearly a deviation from that expectation.
Kagho IDhebor: Wow, that is a technical question because, first of all, I’ll call myself a student of cinema. I love cinema a lot. I studied cinema, and I enjoy watching films from different cultures, different backgrounds, and regions. I like human stories. So, as a Nigerian filmmaker, I would say I’m highly influenced by Nigerian films too because of the story content. Old Nollywood, and even before that, filmmakers like Eddie Ugbomah and Ade Love (Adeyemi Afolayan) are people that made very cinematic films.
I wouldn’t say I’m deviating because cinema, to my understanding, doesn’t have a permanent voice. It depends on who’s telling the story, what kind of story you’re telling, and your point of view as well. I like to tell stories with everything, both reading. I like music a lot, you know, cultural music, live music, African jazz, desert blues. All of these are elements of cinema. My style is largely influenced by a lot of things.
Apart from working as a cinematographer, and working as a director, I happen to have an interest in photography, which I have kind of adapted as a hobby. I document everything around me, every area I stay, every friend I have. I’m very aware of my environment, and before I take these pictures, there’s always a prompt on why I want to take these pictures, you know.
I stumbled on an interview of an American Photographer called Bruce Gilden, and he was talking about his experience documenting Coney Island. He talked about how the places he captured have changed. That inspired me, and I kind of adapted that style in my first photo essay called Burkina Babes.
I visited Burkina Faso to screen a documentary I did for my dad. And the minute I got out from the airport, I noticed there were more bikes than cars on the streets, and I started taking pictures. I realized that the majority of the riders of these bikes were women. That captivated me more, so I focused on just the women. Three or four years later, I started looking at those images and somehow they started communicating to me. I started writing about them and I recorded what I felt over the image. Every image has a story of how I relate to society, how I see and how I feel about it, you know. When I released it, it was well acclaimed.
I then realized I have pictures of everywhere I’ve been to, and I went back and looked at images I took in Jebba street almost 20 years ago. That was also one of those images or collections I have that have always been my memory. So I converted that into the same style. But luckily I also had videos I had taken for different projects and observations that I’ve done in Jebba street. I sent the finished edit to my long-time collaborator and friend, Yetunde Ogundipe, who is an animator. She looked at it and was like, you know, came up with a concept for animation. In my first photo essay, we had the same kind of animation introduction. And this time she took it to the next level. So, I wouldn’t say it’s a deviation, but I would say it’s kind of my own expression of cinema.
EO: What do you think this form allows you to do that live action does not?
KI: You know, there are films that have explored this kind of style in the past. People like Chris Marker. I never knew about him until I went to Morocco and somebody was asking me, “have you watched Chris Marker’s work? Your work reminds me of him.” I started researching about him, and I saw that this style is highly cinematic. So I think it’s still the same application, and it depends on how you navigate it. This is just my own expression, mixing photography and even my own way of capturing these images.
EO: Oh, yes. I was reminded of Chris Marker’s La Jetée when I watched your film.
When viewers watch a film like this, do you think something is being demanded from them? Do you think they are being asked to adjust to something?
KI: When I did Burkina Babes, it wasn’t really accepted yet. It was my first photo essay, but that was strictly pictures, it was almost like Chris Marker’s kind of approach. It was looked at like, okay, what is this? People didn’t understand it. But you see, that work got me a first class ticket to London after I sent it to a programmer, they were like, intrigued, and they invited me to a film festival in London.
All the films that were screened in the short film block were high budget films, but this was just my small film. I got a lot of feedback, and somebody said something very remarkable. One audience member, a Nigerian based in London, said this kind of film would have been swallowed up in Nigeria, and thank God it has been pushed. The way they accepted it in London was overwhelming. And that same film screened in FESPACO. Only a few audiences here who are cinephiles, who understand cinema, really appreciated the film and gave me some very critical feedback.
There are different levels of audiences. How they understand cinema, what they consume, and how they perceive art. So I think, yeah, people will see it and wonder what it is, because it looks fresh, but nothing in cinema is fresh. Chris Marker did stuff like this in the 50s, 60s, 70s. So, this kind of concept is not really fresh in a sense, but people who understand cinema like you, could relate to Chris Marker. Not everybody knows who Chris Marker is. Reception depends on the level of the audience and also, it is the work of the filmmaker or the artist to constantly introduce the audience to something different. That is why it has to be your idea. It has to be your point of view. It has to be authentic in a sense.
EO: Is this sort of hybridity an economic solution to storytelling for you?
KI: I think it’s just intuition. Even if I have a big budget, I may do something similar. I would say it’s the zeal to do something different, you know, to express myself the way I think. So I wouldn’t say it’s a budget constraint or a kind of limitation.
EO: After the win at S16 Film Festival, and now, the African premiere at The Encounters South African International Documentary Film Festival, did your perception on the film change, or is the reception exactly as you imagined it to be?
KI: Whoa! There are some times when I get compliments about the film, I have to go look at the film again. So for example, at the just concluded Film Festival in Morocco, you know, Festival International du Cinema Africain in Morocco. The film screened to a different audience with a different reality, different geography, different cultural landscape. And the kind of reception I got made me realize that cinema is a universal language that people see and can relate to, no matter what region they are in. So most times I go back and look at the film again like, wow! Is this the kind of film I made? And that to me is a huge encouragement to always think outside the box.
EO: In the past,with your partner, a muse meant, you know, a sort of clarification of vision. What does a muse mean for your practice now and how has your muse changed over time?
KI: If you are my friend, and I don’t have a library of you, then you’re not my friend. So I take pictures of everything. There are things that entice me in photographs, things that make me want to pick up my camera and capture a photograph. One is character. I like characters a lot. I like people with attitude. So anybody with an attitude, it can be facial, it can be beauty, the way you respond to light, it can be your mannerism. That’s my muse.
Another is composition. There’s a way a person will stand, there’s a way the character will be placed, and it just forms some sort of composition that looks pretty. The last one is storytelling. I see a story in everything. So storytelling, it can be somebody doing something and moving to something else; it can be a child looking, staring at his mom.
EO: Your film closes with the dedication to Tamfufori. And I want to ask, what aspect of this, you know, photography and documentation speaks, you know, most directly to your practice?
KI: First of all, Tamfufori is my mentor, when it comes to photography and when it comes to life; he’s my friend. I spent a lot of time with him and he was the one that made me appreciate music. He made me understand that music is part of you, part of your work as an artist. And he once said that if you have friends who are singers and players of instruments, they will take your work to another level.
Apart from that, Tam Fiofori taught me in school. He taught me documentary filmmaking in university as a visiting lecturer. He mentioned that, as a cameraman, your aim is to capture that moment. Capture that moment, and you have to be dogged and rugged to capture that moment as a street photographer, you know, as a documentary cameraman.
Tam Fiofori is a photographer of very high repute. His photography has layers, from street photographs, to sport photographs, to culture and events. Tamfufori is one of the people I have seen in this part of the world that have documented events, documented an era, and wrote about it. Every photograph has a story. So you can see the influence. Dedicating My Jebba Story to him is, I would say, like a duty, because he has influenced me. Although he passed away before I finished this work, he was alive when I was filming this work.
EO: You mentioned that photographs are a gift to humanity. What kind of gift do you think they become when they outlive the people in them?
KI: The full thing is, “Pictures are a big gift to humanity, because the environment changes, and so do people; but the ability to capture moments the way they are, and turn them into memories, so that when you see them many years to come, it can either make you smile or cry.” To me, it is the sum of how I see photographs, because everything changes and the only thing that stays is the memory.
I got the ability to preserve memory and archive moments from my father, because he worked as a journalist way back in the late 70s and early 80s. And he archives all his documentation, his pictures, his newspaper cutouts. So, understanding my father, reading his books, going through his works, made me see that memories are very important, and having a tool like the camera to capture and preserve this memory is very important to me.
The camera is one of the most important creations that was made in this world. Think about it, if there was a camera in the beginning of creation, there would be no confusion today. Everything would be there for you to see. I think the world is conflicted today, because there is no preservation or evidence of creation. It’s all assumptions and theories from different scholars and thinkers.
EO: Do you see this mode of approaching cinema as part of your long-term practice, or do you intend to explore other forms?
KI: I’ve been documenting photographs for a very long time. I’m documenting moments, you know, experiences, and every one of them has its own approach. So, of course, I will do live action. I’m a cinematographer. I enjoy working with directors a lot. And also, I have ideas, which are, you know, live action.
I’ve done live action films before. I have two short films I’ve directed, you know, but photographs are one thing that I know I love so much. And if I take pictures, then those pictures must come out. My storytelling through photographs is not limited to projecting them on screen. I also write about my experiences and encounters. Photographs are always the basic inspiration. My write-ups are pictorial so you’re reading about the moment and there’s the photograph. And, I will keep telling stories with photographs as long as I take photographs.
EO: When filmmakers work outside standard live-action form, what kind of conflict usually emerges in the process?
KI: Sometimes you don’t know what the audience wants. So everybody tends to want to do what they feel is appealing to the audience, but I’m from a school of thought that cinema must first come from you. For example, before my film was screened in Morocco, I was shivering because I didn’t know what this kind of audience wants because my film is from a different region, different imagery, and different landscape.
I don’t think people should be limited to what is trending; you never really can tell what the audience will like; they just need to hear your own voice and see how they feel about it. If you fail, you’ve learned something, and you move on. But jumping on trends or trying to emulate people is soulless work, and they don’t last long.
EO: For younger filmmakers that are interested in working in unconventional forms, what would you consider non-negotiable?
KI: Knowledge is very important. Technical, philosophical, and practical knowledge of the medium you’re trying to work with. But, to be honest, I’m still finding my voice; so I can’t tell anybody what to do, but I can inspire you with my experience. If you want to approach something that is different you must first of all think about authenticity, because you don’t want to be a cliche.
If you’re going to create heaven for us to see, it has to be very very authentic. It has to look like your own presentation, one I would believe, because you’re not going to show me somebody with a white beard sitting in the sky, floating. I’ve seen that in a hundred films. So people should be encouraged to express themselves, art is unlimited.
I don’t think there is any art that is new in this world, the only thing new is your voice and your point of view. You should think, am I being honest with what I want to tell or am I trying to be like someone else? Am I trying to do this so they can praise me or am I trying to do it so I can make money? These questions help bake your authenticity and give you a flavourable presentation.