On a tranquil evening at the modest Lagos venue of this year’s The Annual Film Mischief (TAFM), the final screening of the day is Irin Ajo (The Journey), a short film by Myde Glover rooted in Yoruba spirituality and the belief in reincarnation. The story follows a man’s visit to his wife’s family, leading to a shocking revelation about the complex, otherworldly nature of her existence.
Chukwu Martin, with his firm and contemplative frame, enters the makeshift theatre at an unhurried pace and lingers at the back for a while. When the screening ends, he joins other intrigued cinephiles in sharing his thoughts. His voice, unaided by a microphone, fills the room for a minute or thereabouts. One could detect from the quiet fire it carries the conviction of a man committed to marshalling ideas with purpose.
Martin is an actor, screenwriter, independent filmmaker, director and curator of film events, with work that often blurs the line between film, theatre and experimentation. As an actor, he has been featured in productions such as Offshoot, A Green Fever, and Africa Magic Original Masquerades of Aniedo, among others. His filmmaking credits include shorts like Oga Mike which he wrote and directed and Tell It No More, which is written by Temilolu Fosudo and Wumi Tuase Fosudo.
In 2017, Martin founded Film Rats Club and launched The Annual Film Mischief (TAFM) five years later. He also curated the Ibadan Indie Film Awards (IFA) in 2022, in collaboration with the New Culture Studio. All three initiatives are geared towards platforming and celebrating independent filmmakers in Africa. The Film Rats Club is a community of African cinephiles dedicated to the education, appreciation and documentation of independent cinema across the continent. It is the mother body for TAFM, an annual festival for indie filmmakers. The 2025 edition, themed “Reclaiming Self”, featured a remarkable slate of films and was held across Nigeria and Ghana in October, with initial screening plans for Tanzania canceled due to socio-political tensions in the country. Martin’s latest feature film, We Danced & Danced, also screened at the festival, presenting a story of sibling romance, deviant sexual behaviour and the search for freedom and acceptance in society.
For this interview, the spotlight is on Martin’s curatorial vision and penchant for community building. It is also an attempt to understand his philosophy of independent filmmaking. The conversation happens virtually, days after the brief encounter with him at TAFM, and has been revised for clarity and length.
The concept of “independent filmmaking” seems quite fluid and evasive, but it is also evident in your artistry as one who straddles and often crossbreeds ideas in film and theatre. What does this concept mean to you in the Nigerian context, and how does it shape your artistic identity?
I have always been fascinated with the idea of experimentation. Having come from a theatrical background, I often see myself as one who likes to experiment with terms. In theatre, we learn about concepts, philosophies, and artistic jargon. We try as much as we can as theatre artists to use them any time we are performing or we have a play to put out. While this artistic expression comes with certain freedom, it is in chaos with the law. This is because a certain understanding is expected of you. Coming from that kind of background, I know that there is a method to madness. Freedom is very key to me, so I create from that point. For me, independent filmmaking is all about the freedom to create. As I am free to create, I am also studying the work for myself and seeing how it shapes people and me. It has shaped my own way of creating films or building communities. Once I have an idea, I proceed to create and shoot it. No one needs permission to do that. Independent filmmaking has taught me to value sincerity over spectacle. You know, as a people, we are very much inclined to the big names, the flashy and glossy pictures. When we watch films these days, we refer to the pictures. But that is not the case for me. I also value community because it has shaped me a lot. I call my films “rough plays” because they require taking elements from the theatre and bringing them into film.
Film Rats, Ibadan Indie Film Awards and The Annual Film Mischief have become creative hubs for emerging voices. What gaps in Nigeria’s film ecosystem were you trying to fill when you started these initiatives?
As a person who studied theatre as an undergraduate and also did my masters in Theatre and Film Studies at the University of Ibadan, I saw a gap in film that people were not filling in the university. There were no film clubs and initiatives in the school, whereas other clubs existed. My attention was drawn to this reality and I decided to close the gap by creating communities for film cinephiles and enthusiasts who are interested in cinema. Everyone could collaborate, network, discuss projects and industry concerns, and think of progressive ideas. I wanted to bridge that gap. In the long run, it is to find a solution to distribution. That’s why we have created the Film Rats Club in the universities. We want to be able to champion distribution across schools, so if someone has a film, we can help them since we have communities in these schools. Also, we want to bridge the gap between film education and documentation. These hubs help these filmmakers to understand that whether you make an experimental film or one that you feel may not go beyond your family, there is a community for you to see them, a place for you to discuss them no matter how weird the ideas are. That, for us, is very important. Even at TAFM, we are very concerned about the filmmakers and their works. We focus a lot on the films and the filmmakers. We believe there is a reason why they have submitted their films, a reason why they want you to watch their films. So, even if they are not getting it right now, they will get it right in the future through discussions, conversations and networking with other people who would give them better ideas. All three initiatives are designed for indie film artists who feel that they should have a community they can easily run to when they have a project or crazy idea.
Seeing that you wear many hats as a curator, actor, and filmmaker, what were your formative experiences like and how did they influence your artistic journey?
I grew up surrounded by communities. In church, I sang in the choir, served as an altar boy, and later became a leader. I am the last of six children, and my family is quite artistic. My brothers could draw, sing, and sketch, and I learned a lot from them. My father loved literature. Although he stopped schooling after Standard Six, he often read poems to me and taught me Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, especially Mark Antony’s speech. That same speech later helped me gain admission into the University of Ibadan’s Theatre Arts department. I had a communal life in the university where I studied theatre. We lived in the theatre, attended classes together, and shared spaces and experiences. Observing the simplicity of everyday life over the years has deeply influenced my work, especially Oga Mike. That story was inspired by my childhood encounters with ordinary people. I remember the Muslim man who wanted to convert to Christianity and suddenly disappeared, and the old man who fainted during Mass and was revived with milk. These small, human moments shaped how I understand storytelling.
As I grew, I felt a need to build the kind of community I once benefited from for young filmmakers who did not have such spaces. In my first year at the university, I was more drawn to theatre than film, but I was already experimenting. I owned a small camera, took many photographs, and shot my first short film about a pickpocket who disguised himself in a suit. I cannot remember the title now, and I doubt I ever finished it. Over time, I explored music videos and made more short films, about ten by the time I graduated.
How do you balance creative freedom with the discipline needed to produce coherent, engaging stories?
Creative freedom does not mean recklessness. Even when you break the rules, you should first understand them. Sometimes, creating from a place of naivety can be beautiful because it is raw, unfiltered, and true. But as artists grow, they must also learn discipline. For me, theatre instilled that discipline. It taught me boundaries and helped me understand when to act as a director and when to act as an actor. Balancing both roles requires structure. Some people find that structure through film school, while others, like me, learn it through community. Either way, structure is essential because it helps you respect the craft and the process while staying creative.
What challenges have you faced in situating indie film communities outside Lagos, such as in Ibadan, Abuja, and other African cities, and how have you adapted?
We have tried to build structured communities beyond Nigeria. Many filmmakers reach out to us after seeing what we are doing. Our goal is to serve independent voices, including those raw and sometimes rough films that may not receive attention elsewhere. The biggest challenge has been funding. Expansion requires resources, and maintaining structure demands investment. With more support, we could provide grants, production access, equipment, and media visibility. That is why we engage with the press and encourage film journalism. If twenty journalists write about one filmmaker, that is real documentation. We have also faced political challenges. In Tanzania and Kenya, for instance, we have had to postpone events due to government restrictions. These realities influence how we operate across borders.
With Film Rats expanding to multiple African cities, how do you envision a pan-African network of independent filmmakers transforming the continent’s film culture?
We must always have conversations here in Africa, especially progressive conversations. When we exchange ideas, we begin to understand our shared sensibilities and cultural differences. That is how diversity takes form. Building this culture across different regions takes time and consistency. Regular communication about our goals and alliances strengthens us. It helps us access funding and builds the value of filmmakers connected to The Annual Film Mischief. Imagine ten filmmakers from ten countries coming together to curate and tour their films across African cinemas. That is not just a Nigerian effort. It becomes a continental movement. With collective backing, our voices grow louder, our work gains visibility, and our filmmakers gain value.
One of your short films, We Danced & Danced, which quite interests me for its experimental form, screened at TAFM. What was the development process like, especially in terms of writing, experimentation, and collaboration?
We started working on We Danced & Danced in 2020 and finally shot it in just five days. It was four years of development and experimentation. My co-writer and I brought our gender perspectives into the writing, which made it richer. During rehearsals, the actors engaged with the script, so by the time we filmed, they were fully prepared. The film tackles a delicate subject, but the process itself was smooth and fulfilling.
What is the driving philosophy behind filmmaking for you?
I see filmmaking as a deeply expressive art form. Studying human behavior is central to my work. Observation and vulnerability guide my process, and I like to be open with my audience. Music and sound also play a big role in my storytelling. That is why I call my work rough plays. They are organic, textured, and human. I even have a secret project I have been developing for years, which I plan to release when I am much older.
What would you say is the most important quality today’s indie filmmaker must develop to thrive beyond mainstream Nollywood?
Courage and curiosity. Every independent filmmaker must be bold and must remain a constant researcher. You need to understand your community, your environment, and your industry. Knowledge gives you direction. I also believe filmmakers should think like journalists, always observing, documenting, and finding stories in everyday life. That is how you stay connected to reality.
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