“Mami Wata” Review: A Black-and-White Field Trip Yields Allegorical Reward and Literary Nostalgia

From his oeuvre, C. J. Obasi’s cinematic traction is obvious. Not only does he make the kinds of films that are uncommon to mainstream Nollywood; he also weaves spirituality into his narratives. On Mami Wata, C. J. Obasi, whose weight as an indie filmmaker is supported by his wife and long-term colleague Oge Obasi, delves into the West African myth of a revered water goddess and the pressure on custodians of the deity to prove her relevance in the corrosive emergence of Western civilization. Interestingly, while the plot itself and actors’ performances are not necessarily sublime, the film’s obsession with aesthetics and deviance as well as its overarching theme of the clash of modern and traditional values makes it an intriguing work of art and a potential heartthrob for the local and international audience.

Shot in black-and-white monochrome, thanks to Brazilian cinematographer Lílis Soares, Mami Wata explores the ensuing volcanic outcome of the contact between modernity and tradition in a local riverine community. The fulcrum of the production seems to be the use of polar ends, an initiative that is spot-on and symbolic, with the “black” and “white” colors posed as parallels to concepts of “tradition” and “modernity” in the film. But then, just as the cinematic synergy of these neutral colors is smooth, the possibility of a peaceful coexistence of an innocuous modern civilization and African spirituality is palpable.

In the film, Mama Efe (played by Rita Edochie), a custodian of tradition, rejects products of Western culture such as schools and hospitals in her territory, her skepticism probably inspired by the fear of having the pristine existence of her people contaminated. C. J. Obasi  presents another character, Jasper (Emeka Amakeze), a stark contrast, to show how deceptive and wayward modern ways can get. The filmmaker does not set out to absolutely rubbish Western civilization of which he himself is a product of; the gospel is rather to dispel the rubbish  in modern ways. The guns in the film are a symbol of negative modern trends like war and colonialism. Jasper’s actions—unsuspectingly sneaking in on the people, and using disgruntled natives of the land like Jabi (Kelechi Udegbe) and his men to instigate full-scale rebellion for his selfish interest—revamp memories of 19th and 20th century European colonialism in Africa.

The susurration of the sea is constantly heard while its natural sight graces us throughout the film. This reinforces the significance of water as a source of life and a symbol of regeneration in Sub-Saharan  Africa. The water deity attracts different cognomens across traditional African societies, contributing to the people’s spiritual perceptions of water. Among the Yoruba people of Nigeria, a certain mythical figure, Sango, had three wives, Osun, Oya and Oba, all of whom are venerated and worshiped as water goddesses today.  Another water spirit in Yoruba religion is Yemoja, the mother of all Orishas. The Akan, who are based in Ghana and parts of Togo and Ivory Coast, have Nana Asuo Gyebi, an ancient masculine water deity that is believed to offer protection, healing and justice. Mami Wata is shot in the Republic of Benin, a stronghold of the Fon people and their Vodun practices. In Vodun, water is used with herbs for ritual baths to facilitate spiritual cleansing.

Most dialogues in Mami Wata are held in West African Pidgin , the linguistic outcome of a fusion of English and indigenous African languages, while English and Fon languages are sparingly used. The Obasis’ choice of West African Pidgin  subtly helps  negotiate a balance between the often-conflicting worlds of autochthonous Africans and Westerners. Historically, around the 15th to 19th century, this pidgin language was developed and used to facilitate transactions between European slave merchants and locals in Africa.

Unlike many African films that exalt patriarchy, Mami Wata makes a strong case for women empowerment and female domination. The mermaid-goddess, Mami Wata, is a symbol of femininity. Her priestess Mama Efe, is the ultimate spiritual authority in the land. Following the uprising, the sisters Prisca (Evelyn Ily Juhen) and Zinwe (Uzoamaka Aniunoh) form a powerful duo in order to overcome the masculine rebels. An eventual invocation and manifestation of the mermaid-goddess crowns it all. Thus, the Obasis’ brainchild, like a political prophecy, envisages a degenderized African political hemisphere where more deserving women can as well hold the highest positions in power. 

Mami Wata has a stake in the literary world, its major conflict reminiscent of the preoccupations of early postcolonial African literary writers such as Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Ngugi wa Thiong’O and Ferdinand Oyono. A close call is Wole Soyinka’s The Lion and the Jewel, a drama in which tradition also trumps modernity. Just as Baroka, the community head and a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist in Soyinka’s play, foils the construction of a railway through his territory, Mama Efe remains a cultural gatekeeper and refuses orthodox medicine. There’s also Jasper whose attempts at manipulating the people of Iyi with his Western values is similar to Lakunle’s impressionistic antics towards having Sidi for himself in Soyinka’s play.

Melodrama is sacrificed for occasional brooding and a gush of naturalness in Mami Wata. But the characters sometimes appear too bored, with their sparse conversations and placid looks potentially starving the audience of emotions. An overfamiliar theme wafts through the storyline, sustaining nostalgia.  Yet the Obasis’ global vision and curatorial taste overwhelms all doubts, making Mami Water an old wine in a new bottle.