When it comes to timely releases, Makosa Ni Yangu nails it. This film has just been released when gender-based violence is dominating Kenyan headlines. More than entertainment, it seeks to spotlight a social problem currently facing the country.
The story follows Nafisa, a young woman caught between two worlds: one of humble beginnings and thanks to Saint, another of fame, wealth, and violence. While the film delivers a strong message, it struggles to fully balance this with an engaging narrative.
This is a Philit original and you can watch it via philittv.com at flexible prices. Remember, as you purchase the link to treat it like a movie ticket and if you can appreciate the convenience.
Positives
The film’s standout element is its casting across the board from the main actors to familiar actors with smaller roles. Melissa Lesilale, as Nafisa, comes through in a deeply transformative role. She convincingly portrays a small-village girl who is forced to 'chase the bag', only to end up trapped in an abusive relationship.
Her evolution from naïve optimism to steely resolve makes for some of the best dramatic moments.
Pascal Tokodi, playing the antagonist, effectively toggles between charm, menace, and manipulation. While his character’s motivations feel limited, Tokodi brings intensity and fear to his scenes with Lesilale.
Surprisingly, Mama Nafisa (played by Beatrice Beats) I thought standouts as a more compelling villain. Early on, the script draws you towards empathy for her character, but by the end of the first act, you’re rooting against her.
I must say I thought the chemistry between Nafisa, Pascal’s character Saint, and Mama Nafisa fuels the film’s most fascinating moments.
The camera work for most part is kinetic, fluid, maintaining the film’s pace. Wide shots are prioritised, giving a fuller picture of the settings, complemented by a few creative transitions.
There's one scene that was clearly inspired by Spielberg and Spike Lee and a final moment looks and plays out like a Tarantino moment. While the lighting isn’t perfect, its use of colour enhances some scenes in relation to the setting.
Costume and makeup design play a crucial role in grounding the characters. Nafisa’s transformation is mirrored by her evolving wardrobe and makeup, symbolising her internal struggles.
But the makeup team come to life in the film’s third act with Nafisa's character.
The music adds layers to the narrative. The soundtrack, often drawn from Kenyan music, complements the scenes without overpowering them. Ambient sounds—street noise, background chatter, and deliberate silences—heighten the film’s tension, especially in its most pivotal moments.
Cameos from familiar faces, such as Sanaipei Tande and Tugi, add a layer of fun for Abel Mutua fans, connecting the movie to his larger Philit family. That bring a sense of community and self-awareness to the film without detracting from its core message.
I also like the tonal balance of humour and drama.
While the film addresses an important issue, the storytelling feels safe and predictable.
It follows a familiar formula: A protagonist from a poor background finds a seemingly perfect partner, only to uncover his abusive nature. She then grapples with staying in the relationship or returning to her roots. Now, while this resonates with real-life experiences, it lacks narrative risks or fresh perspectives.
This predictability is most evident in the third act, which feels more like a crowd-pleaser than a compelling conclusion that challenges the audience. Rather than showing the complexities of gender-based violence, the film resorts and heavily depends on exposition.
The linear progression—hardship, challenges, resolution—is digestable for a broader audience but it also limits the creative approach in exploring a familiar and conventional theme. Saint’s character, for instance, is one dimensianal in his drive, and Nafisa’s arc never truly escapes the poverty narrative.
The title card, while simple, lacks character. The marketing leaned heavily on the term “femicide,” yet the film doesn’t explore this aspect deeply. It implies it but stops short of addressing it explicitly.
Conclusion
The performances, production design, and commitment to sparking conversation about a pressing social issue is what makes this film work. Melissa Lesilale’s portrayal of Nafisa is relatable and grounded, and the supporting cast elevates the film’s emotional stakes. The cinematography, costume design, and sound work demonstrate the care and skill behind the production.
However, the predictable storyline and lack of narrative risks hold the film back from being truly groundbreaking. It feels more like an awareness piece than a deep exploration of gender-based violence.
Would I recommend it to a foreign audience, yes but with Abel Mutua fans for the meta moments.
