Unasemaje?: a quiet storm of tradition, trauma and unspoken truth

When I first heard that Unasemaje?, a short film by emerging Tanzanian director Kelvin Kagambo, would be screened at this year’s Zanzibar International Film Festival (ZIFF), my heart skipped a beat.

There was something quietly radical about this film that had already begun stirring whispers across the East African film community.

It had previously earned a spot in DocuBox’s Get Reel series, and more recently, it was selected for the Ngalabi Short Film Festival in Kampala, screening from July 22 to 26, 2025.

Watching Unasemaje? left me with more questions than answers, but that’s exactly the point. The title itself, which means “What do you say?” in Swahili, is a provocation. And yet, ironically, the person at the centre of the storm, Mamu, a young bride-to-be in a fictional coastal town, barely says a word.

In one haunting scene, she sits still, almost frozen, while the world around her spirals: elders whisper, a fiancé erupts in rage, and a mother pleads to religious tradition. But Mamu remains voiceless, wrapped in a silence that speaks louder than dialogue ever could.

Directed by Kelvin Kagambo and produced by Willy Nkyabandi, Unasemaje? is a masterclass in restrained storytelling. It trades dramatic confrontation for subtle confrontation, unfolding through body language, pregnant pauses, and unresolved stares.

Set in a close-knit coastal village, the film follows Mamu as she navigates a crisis of faith, family, and bodily autonomy after becoming mysteriously pregnant just weeks before her wedding. She insists she has not been with anyone and describes her condition as an "immaculate conception." But no one seems interested in what she believes.

Her fiancé reacts with betrayal, her mother leans on divine explanation, and a trusted mentor organises a closed-door meeting to deal with the situation.

Kagambo says the inspiration for the story came from countless conversations and forums that centred on African women’s lived realities.

“One of the recurring issues was how women often lack the opportunity to make decisions about matters that concern their own lives, things like being told when to get married, when to have children, what careers to pursue, and so on,” he shares.

Kagambo reflects that, as a father to a daughter, he deeply hopes his child will grow up in a world where she is not sidelined in matters that affect her directly.

“Being the main character means being active,” he says. “It means having the power to participate in decisions that concern you 100 percent, not just being present, but being heard.” He further adds, “As a father to a daughter and a brother, honestly, I wouldn’t want to see them grow up in a world where they’re not the main characters of their own stories.” The brilliance of Unasemaje? lies in its use of silence.

Mamu’s near-muteness is not a glitch but the entire point. “In the film, Mamu is the main character. But she doesn’t say a single word. Everyone around her is speaking and making decisions about something that affects her 100 percent, yet no one asks her, ‘What do you say?’” says Kagambo.

In the film, the decisions made by Mamu’s mother, her fiancé and Kungwi (mentor) weren’t coming from a bad place, “but she was the one who would be most affected. And the simplest way to know whether the decision would be good or bad for her was just to ask her, Unasemaje?” details Kagambo Visually, the film leans heavily into natural aesthetics, using sunlight filtered through khangas, the rhythm of the sea, and the architecture of old Swahili homes to create a sense of enclosed intimacy.

Long takes and careful compositions evoke a quiet tension. Every frame feels like a conversation, even when no words are spoken. “These challenges are very common,” Kagambo reflects. “Even during production, we had our own version. We went to Kigamboni hoping to shoot that perfect orange sunrise b u t then it rained. It reminded me how life doesn’t always align with plans.”

One of the most remarkable things about Unasemaje? is its decision to centre silence. Mamu’s near-muteness is not a technical or narrative glitch; it’s intentional. “We wanted the audience to feel what it’s like when everyone is speaking around you, but not to you,” says Kagambo.

It’s a familiar reality for many women, especially in conservative societies where decisions about their bodies and futures are made by those around them.

The early reception has been overwhelmingly positive. During the ZIFF screening, filmmaker Nasra Mnaro praised the film for its emotional subtlety:

“Unasemaje? doesn’t shout to be heard. It simply stares back at you, asking, ‘And you, what would you say?’” She added that the most haunting part of the film was how “Mamu’s silence stayed with me longer than any line of dialogue.”

As the film gains traction on the festival circuit, it’s quickly becoming a conversation starter about themes often left untouched in mainstream East African cinema: reproductive rights, consent, generational trauma, and the limits of cultural obedience.

Kagambo and Nkyabandi’s decision to frame these issues within the familiar confines of a Swahili coastal village makes the story all the more powerful. The filmmakers are also challenging what it means to make “African cinema.”

Instead of opting for dramatics, action, or overt messaging, Unasemaje? embodies what many would call "slow cinema," letting the audience sit with discomfort, reflect on unspoken truths, and witness a narrative that unfolds like a whisper.

Despite its 20-minute runtime, the film feels expansive. It lingers. It breathes. It dares viewers to confront their own biases and reflect on how many Mamus they’ve overlooked in their own lives.

“Unasemaje? doesn’t shout to be heard. It simply stares back at you, asking, “And you, what would you say?” shares Nasra Mnaro, one of the attendees during the ZIFF screening. She added

“The most haunting part of the film was how Mamu’s silence stayed with me longer than any line of dialogue. It echoed the very real silences so many women are forced to live within.”

Festival-goer and university student Juma Said shared a similar reaction: “It’s the kind of film that creeps into your conscience. I watched it and thought of my sister, my cousin, my female neighbour, and how often we don’t ask them what they truly feel.”

Another audience member from neighbouring country Uganda remarked, “What hit me was how it used simplicity to talk about complexity. I kept waiting for something big to happen, then realised…aah, it’s the silence…silence was the big thing.”

Beyond the screen, Unasemaje? challenges filmmakers to also explore other issues and use the film as an educational tool. The film has been discussed in university film forums, and there is growing interest in hosting screenings in cities like Nairobi, Kigali, and Kampala.

Sometimes, all it takes is a mirror, a quiet one, and the courage to ask, “Unasemaje?”