Onyekachi Offor’s “Baptized by Fire” : Cinema as Witness

When Onyekachi Offor’s Baptized by Fire starts, a naive and anxious stoner, Chuks (Chukwuemeka Chuks-Okeke), is conversing with an eager and conniving dealer, Adamu (Riyo David), in the latter’s cramped apartment. Adamu, the sweet-mouthed salesman, convinces Chuks to try out a new smoke recipe. Chuks reluctantly agrees. Minutes after they started exchanging jumbled and trance-like conversations that led nowhere. The potency of this weed wanes when Oga Wasiu (Eric Nwanso), a corrupt police officer, starts hitting Adamu’s fragile door. 

Baptized by Fire still

From Oga Wasiu and Adamu’s exchange, it becomes clear that they had an arrangement: Adamu provides cash, and Oga Wasiu provides protection. Now, for whatever reason, Adamu has been stalling his payment. The dealer makes reference to being robbed, unsteady customers, and economic hardship. But the police officer isn’t convinced. The cash withholding compelled Oga Wasiu to visit Adamu, and as a heated argument ensues, tragedy introduces itself to the film’s plot. 

Baptized by Fire

Baptized By Fire picks another rhythm after this tragedy. Chuks, who has successfully hidden himself in Adamu’s toilet, was accidentally discovered by Oga Wasiu. The police officer must quash the eyewitness. Here’s the twist : the witness who manages to escape is zonked out. Thus, even if he’s mentally running faster, his body isn’t. And this is where the film gets interesting. Oga Wasiu chases him across the streets of Lagos with the confidence of a man who owns and controls the street. It doesn’t matter that the chase is illegal. Lagosians, ever the onlookers, watch the chase as one watches a theatrical display. The potential tragedy and bizarreness of this chase don’t register on their consciousness. To these Lagosians, it’s another show that needs to be enjoyed. 

The film brilliantly captures how socially isolated Lagosians are despite the enormous population. The city, and by extension the country, has desensitized its occupants from caring or involving themselves in another man’s trouble. All man for himself. Thus, when Granville Wilson’s handheld camera captures the Lagos onlookers, and Ekene Amaonwu’s edit draws out, in slow motion, it serves a dual purpose: artistic and cultural. Artistically, Wilson’s shaky camera movements capture the city from a stoned person’s perspective. The hurried movement, askance look and lack of tenderness gets beautifully captured. Culturally, it bears witness to how loud, unforgiving and uncaring the city and its occupants are toward one another. 

The film screened at the S16 Film Festival, the Maine International Film Festival, and other international festivals inspiring conversation around its artistic and thematic depth. The film is steeped in violent, psychedelic tropes and supernatural elements. It briefly comments on police brutality, governmental failure, escapism, corruption, and the institutionalization of drug abuse. The film doesn’t offer any novel argument on these subject matters, nor does it take a moralist tone in discussing drug use. What it does is bear witness to the palpable decadence in the city and country. And, that’s enough.