Film Analysis— “I Don’t Want to be Like Them”: Queer Worldmaking & Positvie Self-Determination in Wanuri Kahiu’s ‘Rafiki’
Smith College: FYS 165: Childhood in African Lit and Media — Professor Katwiwa Mule — Dec. 18th, 2024
Wanuri Kahiu’s Rafiki=Friend (2018) is a uniquely positivist queer narrative that offers its audiences new ways to see themselves in media. The movie is based on the short story “Jumbala Tree” by Monica Arac de Nyeko and depicts the growing relationship between the protagonist, Kena, and her love interest, Kena. The girls live in the “Slopes,” a fictional reimagining of Nairobi’s urban neighborhoods and a narrative shift from the Nakawa Housing Estates of Uganda in the original short story. Throughout the film, Kena and Ziki struggle to reconcile their growing feelings toward each other and their desires for more than what traditionalist society offers them. Wanuri’s “Afrobubblegum” style also reflects the girls' non-traditionalism, rejoicing in the vibrancy and joyfulness of African identity. Wanuri ultimately refuses to depict Rafiki through the heteronormative gaze of queer otherness, offering moments where the Kena and Ziki create supportive spaces for themselves to engage in queer worldbuilding. These spaces allow Kena and Ziki self-determination, the ability to form their identities on their own terms, and safety outside of their lives under an oppressive heterosexist society. Rafiki subverts normative depictions of young queer love through its aversion to the dominant heteronormative lens, ultimately offering new ways of imagining queer worlds in the process. By providing spaces for both the characters and audience members to explore homosexuality through a lens of self-determination, the film utilizes the fictional urban landscape of the Slopes to acknowledge the contextual frameworks of intersectional identities while simultaneously utilizing its normalized lens to offer spaces for self-determination and internal exploration outside of dominant oppressive social norms.
While Rafiki depicts a realistic Nairobi by illustrating the rampant bigotry and prejudices present, the narrative does not dwell on the homophobia the couple faces in insolation; instead, it places it within a more complex social context. By avoiding approaching the narrative from a singular focus on homophobia, Wanuri crafts a realistic African setting that acknowledges the nuanced intersectionality of its characters. The film’s contextual framework treats homophobia as an essential element through its casual inclusion and underlying presence in the characters’ interactions. In one of the first scenes in the film, Kena meets with some of her friends at Mama Atim’s café to chat and play cards. The get-together goes well until one of Kena’s friends calls another patron a faggot, expressing, “Do you think God is just watching two men fuck each other?” (Rafiki 00:05:20), before leaving the table. While the event is a blatant example of homophobia, the narrative does not attempt to reconcile with it. Instead, the characters continue their lives, ultimately not heavily considering the interaction or its implications. The general response to the event reflects reality in Kenya, where homophobia is frequent and seemingly innocuous. Homophobia remains embedded in society as a core tenet, and the brief outbursts of bigotry one sees in the film are simply manifestations of a more fundamental issue that underlies social structures. By normalizing instances of prejudice, Wanuri provides a nuanced depiction of African life concerning queerness. In Rafiki, Ziki and Kena do not wrestle with homophobia directly throughout the film. Rather, they struggle with its implicated presence in dominant society and their attempts for self-determination outside of conformity. By placing homophobia into the general culture, Wanuri normalizes the girls’ experiences by expanding their pursuit of liberation and self-determination beyond mere homosexuality.
Furthermore, on the few occasions where Wanuri depicts heteronormative relationships, they take on an exploitative and unfavorable tone, pointing to their limitations in producing tangible joy as they remain implicated in fundamentally oppressive and unequal systems. The heterosexual relationships in Rafiki do not function as spaces encouraging positive self-determination. They cannot escape from the other social issues they are tied to and, therefore, cease to procure environments capable of expansive imaginings. Kena’s friend, Blacksta, is a particularly stark example of the limitations of heteronormativity. He works in the boda-boda trade, a symbol of “outlaw masculinity,” where “operators maneuver their way through traffic jams and road barriers, squeezing past pedestrians on curbs and sidewalks, endangering passersby, their own passengers, and themselves” (Githire 28). He is sexually licentious, paying girls for favors and treating them terribly. He particularly indicates his chauvinistic tendencies through his relationship with Mama Atim’s daughter, whom he pays to sleep with, and continually condescends in his pursuit of Kena for the rest of the film. While Blacksta’s insistent search for a wife indicates he is attempting to pursue self-determination or social uplift, his relationships do not offer the possibility of reimagining spaces without oppressive limitations. Instead, they reinforce patriarchal ideas of domination and aggression. Because Blacksta cannot think outside of dominant norms that encourage the subjugation of disenfranchised community members including Kena and Ziki, he cannot imagine a world with tangible liberation or joy. Instead, he serves as a manifestation of the inherent constraints that exist in a heteronormative society. A society Kena and Ziki wish to free themselves from completely and thus imagine a joyful future beyond.
Blacksta’s actions point to a broader theme in the film where dominant heteronormative culture is not only excluded from Ziki and Kena’s spaces of joy and queer worldmaking, but it also cannot conceptualize them as it has no reason to look beyond its current systems or ideas. While Christianity and other dominant ideologies assert homosexuality and queerness as sinful, other characters do not view Kena and Ziki's behavior through a queer lens, which ultimately protects them. When Kena and Ziki first start meeting, they face pushback from their families and friends because of their father’s competing political campaigns and not because of their burgeoning queer desires. Their families are respectful when Kena and Ziki bring the other home, indicating that they assume the friendship is platonic. Interestingly, Kena’s mother, Mercy, is excited to invite Ziki over as it opens possibilities of social uplift for her. When Ziki and Kena return from shopping and Kena tries on a dress, Mercy focuses on her daughter’s unusual gender expression conformity and the excitement of Ziki’s presence, not the girl’s growing attraction for each other (Rafiki 00:45:38). The scene also points to Mercy’s attempts for liberation and social uplift, which, similarly to Blacksta, only exist within the dominant and heteronormative paradigm. Mercy, along with every other character in the film, “shares in characters’ keenly expressed desire to transcend the limitations of their current circumstances” (Githire 22) but can only view the world through the dominant restrictive and normative lens. This dominant lens, which only offers liberation through an inherently restrictive system, fails to consider the possibilities of other options, excluding them from queer spaces of worldmaking and protecting Ziki and Kena from attacks by conformist society. Thus, dominant structures keep characters in the Slopes within their systems and unable to reach queer utopic spaces, providing a level of protection for Ziki and Kena and a space for them to explore themselves outside of a restrictive society.
The film not only refuses to use homophobia or heteronormativity merely as a plot point, but it also uses these social issues to consistently return to the joyous world Kena and Ziki create for themselves outside of embedded social inequities. While the film embeds social stigmas and homophobia as givens, it does not constrict Kena or Ziki’s abilities to imagine themselves outside of these dogmas. Vitally, Kena first meets Ziki right after her friend’s outburst of homophobia. The scene contains no dialogue or backing music, merely a series of jump cuts between Kena and Ziki staring at each other (Rafiki 00:05:50). The scene ultimately creates a feeling of queer, “utopian longing” (Johnstone 46), for viewers, serving as one of the first moments to establish the idea of queer worldmaking outside of oppressive mainstream culture. By cutting out background noise and lingering on the characters staring at each other, Wanuri produces an artificial space that reflects to the audience the genuine container felt between Ziki and Kena. This scene eventually becomes vital in contextualizing future interactions between Ziki and Kena, where a queer world exists between them, separate from the conformist spaces they occupy, but remains subtle and often unarticulated. Thus, homophobia throughout the film does not serve as a narrative tool but as a socially embedded contrasting element. By only touching briefly on moments of homophobia to contextualize the story, Wanuri ensures the narrative remains focused on positivist and utopian imaginings of queerness, supporting her goal of depicting vibrant and joyful Africans.
Arak de Nyeko’s choice to have “Jumbala Tree” take place in an urban area, and Wanuri’s choice to maintain this in Rafiki by creating the fictional Slopes, emphasizes the characters wrestling with dominant society and the different backgrounds people bring into the Slopes. The urbanism of both settings forces characters to live in closer quarters and interact with one another consistently. Urban settings provide a distinct social landscape as they contain both the spaces to interact with diverse sets of people and the most blatant indications of social issues and injustices. As Githire argues, “…the urban space provides a unique stage for multiple constructions and performances of identity. At the same time, the city is the site where resource deprivation and other forms of exclusion are most glaringly apparent” (10). By placing Kena and Ziki in an urban setting, Wanuri offers the characters an opportunity to interface with each other and find belonging through their shared burgeoning queer identities and outside of other stratifying issues such as gender and class. Kena and Ziki, coming from vastly different backgrounds, likely would not have met without the intimate urban setting they exist within. Yet it is their differing respective backgrounds that ultimately strengthen Wanuri’s concept of Afrobubblegum and queer worldmaking as a whole. Both girls carry distinct burdens because of their positions in traditional society, but when placed in the other’s orbit, their traditional expectations change as they share their hopes and dreams. Thus, it becomes easier for Ziki and Kena to imagine a world separate from normative life when they are together. The socially diverse nature of Wanuri’s Slopes naturally creates an intersectional lens that ensures girls such as Kena and Ziki, who are very different from each other, can meet and develop relationships on terms that do not align with dominant norms through the proximity it situates its subjects in.
The significance of the Slopes as a setting for Rafiki also impacts Kena and Ziki’s ability to explore their queerness as it provides the anonymity necessary for safety. Because of the diversity and vibrancy of urban life, the Slopes feature ambiguous spaces, such as nightclubs, that offer opportunities for patrons to engage with various forms of unconventionality. These spaces are unknown to or ignored by conventional oppressive society and its surrounding laws, encouraging the flourishing of queer life (Ombagi 109). When Kena and Ziki go on a date to the night clubs they are especially uninhibited, free to express their attraction without the fear of violence or social estrangement (Wanuri 00:29:50). While Ziki and Kena can generally avoid raising suspicions under the dominant lens of heteronormativity, they remain restricted in their ability to showcase or experience queer love in public. In contrast, the ambiguity of the Slope’s nightlife allows them to uniquely explore their burgeoning queer identities without the scrutinizing lens of heterosexist society. Nightclubs provide a sense of community through the proximity of patrons (Ombagi 114), offering a brief utopic vision of what a thriving and explicit queer life in Africa could eventually mean. Such nightlife necessitates thriving diversity from urbanity to maintain its vibrancy and anonymity, indicating the significance of placing Kena and Ziki in a city. By situating the narrative in an urban setting with ambigious queer spaces such as nightclubs, Wanuri further opens the door for utopic queer worldmaking, offering the characters opportunities into spaces that can celebrate diversity and encourage uplifting queer exploration.
More fundamentally, but keeping in the same vein of queer ambiguity, the narrative does not feel the need to overly articulate Ziki and Kena’s growing feelings for each other, allowing them subjecthood outside of dominant heteronormative language. One pertinent element of Rafiki is the lack of dialogue, particularly in Kena and Ziki’s shared scenes. The film often shows the two of them together with a backing soundtrack or uses brief lines of dialogue to highlight an implicitly suggested point (Rafiki 00:18:24). By separating the girl’s relationship from the explicitness of articulation, Wanuri avoids the implicated systems of control and domination that language remains entangled in. There is also a discourse around homosexuality and colonization present. By including both English and Swahili, Wanuri critiques the homophobia embedded in both African and colonial languages, subverting the idea that homosexuality is un-African. The name of the film, Rafiki, further indicates this idea of subverting language surrounding dominant and oppressive cultures. Rafiki, which means friend in the Swahili language, does not typically invoke romantic connotations. However, there is no reason to suggest that it could not also refer to queer relationships. By naming the film Rafiki, Wanuri disrupts dominant systems of imagining through language, offering a queer-coded lens of words with limited historical meanings. Thus, Wanuri avoids some of the pitfalls of attempting to depict queer love and coming of age through the language of oppressive culture, choosing instead to subvert, in the case of the title, or reject, in the absence of dialogue, traditional connotations. In doing this, she crafts a narrative that separates morality from homosexuality and offers Kena and Ziki opportunities to develop their identities through nonconformist terms.
Throughout Rafiki, Ziki remains playful and carefree, demonstrating Wanuri’s Afrobubblgum aesthetic and subverting the normative roles of African women in the process. In one of the first scenes, Wanuri depicts Ziki dancing in public, her vibrant dreadlocks and fluid movements contrasting the hard and cold urban setting around her (Rafiki 00:11:50). Ziki’s choice to have vibrant hair and lipstick serves as an early visual cue of her unencumbered nature and commitment to breaking free from the arbitrary limitation’s society thrusts upon her. Another vital moment occurs when Ziki apologizes to Kena for her friends pulling down Kena’s father’s campaign posters (Rafiki 00:16:25). This moment is significant, not only because it is Ziki and Kena’s first interaction but also because by reaching out and taking accountability for her friend’s behavior, Ziki opens the possibility for a relationship based on new, empathetic, and intentional terms. “This apology, given on behalf of others, forms a radical compact of vulnerability and generosity that signals a transformative openness that alters both Ziki and Kena in ways neither could previously envision” (Sterling 117). Ziki is bold enough to step outside of the normative practice of ignoring the issue, creating a strong foundation for Kena and Ziki to explore who they are and ultimately develop positive senses of self. This commitment to nonconformity does not always work out perfectly for Ziki, as she bears the brunt of her father’s fury and the mob’s attack when the couple experience a hate crime later in the movie. Despite these instances of violent homophobia, Ziki remains steadfast in her pursuit of joy and continues to imagine a queer utopic future for herself and Kena. Ziki’s tenacity is another example of the film's refusal to portray queer love in a negative or othering light and speaks to her fight for self-determination in an oppressive society.
Similarly, despite her more withholding personality, Kena develops a sense of playfulness and originality through her interactions with Ziki. Kena is generally more reserved than Ziki as she shoulders certain burdens regarding class and her parents' dynamic, yet even in the earliest scenes, Kena shows signs of nonconformity. Her choice to wear androgynous clothing and engage in the stereotypically masculine pastime of skateboarding distances her from other girls in the Slopes (Rafiki 00:01:13). Kena also illustrates her ambiguousness around gender through her friend group, who are primarily other stereotypically masculine men. Her affinity for male friends indicates that Kena possibly relates to them more than other, more traditionally feminine, girls. Once Kena meets Ziki and they make a pact to embrace their shared nonconformist ideals, her rebellion grows and transforms into a tangible ideological stance and confidence in her self-worth. When Kena stumbles upon Mama Atim in the hospital, she remains unbothered by Mama Atim’s homophobic vitriol, stating, “If you need help, just turn and press the bell” (Wanuri, 01:15:34). Kena, through her time with Ziki, finally understands that her inherent worth is not attached to her ability to conform to dominant society. Kena also chooses to meet up with Ziki again, despite society’s insistence that it is sinful, once again acting on her own terms and imagining a world where she and Ziki can thrive. Kena’s character arc is hugely positivist regarding self-determination, as she comes to understand herself outside of the oppressive systems she lives under and is, therefore, capable of maintaining her joyful outlook on queer possibility. “…the pain Kena has withstood to love freely and define herself on her own terms does not override the joy and hope she’s learned from her relationship with Ziki” (Sterling 117). Thus, Kena and Ziki’s time together offers a meaningful reimagining of how relationships, especially queer ones, can serve as positive spaces for developing a sense of self as they push beyond the arbitrary boundaries of heteronormative attraction.
The structure of Rafiki naturally contrasts heteronormative culture and queer worlds. It refuses to emphasize homophobia, sexism, or any prejudice that discriminates against an “other,” choosing instead to celebrate the thriving interior world of queerness and self-determination. The film takes on an intersectional approach, situating the characters' pursuit of liberation and joy within the many complexities of gender, class, and sexuality in society. It points to ways characters around Ziki and Kena accept dominant oppressive ideas in their pursuit of desires but are ultimately restricted as society fails to procure liberation without limitations. Blacksta and Mercy showcase futile attempts for liberation, as, despite attempting to procure joy for themselves throughout the film, they remain trapped within restrictive normative social systems. In contrast, Ziki and Kena reject the other characters' complacency, embracing queerness and nonconformity, not only within the context of sexuality but also around questions of identity and self-determination more broadly. Both characters already carry nonconformist ideologies, including Kena’s androgynous expression and Ziki’s playfulness, but it is not until they meet each other that a sense of belonging and support occurs. Their relationship is a space of queer worldbuilding as the girls unpack internalized negativist ideas of who they are and imagine their lives without limitation. Thus, many of the examples of queer worldbuilding within Rafiki coincide with the pursuit of positive personal consciousness as the girls attempt to develop internal self-worth in a social environment that criticizes their fundamental identities. However, their time together is successful in creating a sense of self-worth, as one sees in Kena’s self-assured interaction with Mama Atim, and the positivist, although slightly ambiguous, ending offers viewers a chance to positively interpret how their relationship might continue to foster queer worldmaking and internal consciousness, even if on a small scale. Wanuri’s insistence on portraying Kena and Ziki’s love story through a normalizing lens ultimately offers the characters a chance to exist outside of their oppression, which in turn allows for the blossoming of queer worldmaking and the development of positive self-determination.
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Work Cited
Githire, Njeri. “Looking Back, Reeling Forward: Wanuri Kahiu’s Rafiki.” Black Camera, vol. 14, no. 1, 2022, https://muse.jhu.edu/article/861197.
Johnstone, Lyn. “Queer Worldmaking in Wanuri Kahiu’s Film Rafiki.” Journal of African Cultural Studies, vol. 33, no. 1, 2021, https://doi.org/10.1080/13696815.2020.1816931.
Ombagi, Eddie. “Nairobi Is a Shot of Whiskey.” Journal of African Cultural Studies, vol. 31, no. 1, p. 2019.
Rafiki = Friend. Directed by Kahiu Wanuri, 2018.
Sterling, Kyéra. “Review of Rafiki, by Wanuri Kahiu.” QED: A Journal in GLBTQ Worldmaking, vol. 9, no. 1, 2022, https://muse.jhu.edu/article/862886.