A lot of bird tweets in the background, like a feature soundtrack, and the realisation that even your lover makes plans to japa without you is one way to experience A Japa Tale.
The indie filmmaker, Dika Ofoma, is often found on X swooning over Genevieve Nnaji, his sworn femme fatale and acting idol. In May 2023, his short film, A Japa Tale, released under O42 Films via YouTube, garnered some underground acclaim (mostly on X) and placed a niche spotlight on him. A Japa Tale is not an ambitious story, neither is it a story of less obvious conflicts; its title gives this away, as well as its familiar trope. As a consequence, viewers will anticipate what propels this story beyond its predictable conflicts. Does Dika Ofoma satisfy them?
The short film (24 minutes) involves a cast of three. The focal characters are Dubem (Daniel Ngozika) and Emuche (Onyinye Odokoro), the lovers. Dubem is a doctor planning to migrate to the UK to pursue his medical practice and a better life; and Emuche, his girlfriend in her NYSC service year, aspiring to be a Nollywood actress. However, their performances—or perhaps the scriptwriting—make it difficult to see them fully embodying their lead roles. The third character, Dubem’s mother (Ijele Ejiofor), though cast as an accessory, has a more dominant presence that diminishes them.
How does conflict begin in Dika Ofoma’s A Japa Tale? Is it by asking why Emuche reclines on the bed rest and is almost in tears because her boyfriend’s mother scolds her for promptly announcing how she often doesn’t like to cook? She seeks resolution in an almost un-Nigerian manner when she tells Dubem, “this won’t work,” talking about their possible marriage—that’s quite an arrival to problem-solving. But she has no idea of the threat of severance (by distance) that is to come between them when Dubem later tells her he’s travelling to the UK for his PLAB 2 exams.
This propels the plot, among other things. Like later finding out she’s been pregnant—quite conveniently, as she only becomes aware of her delayed menstruation—after a fight with Dubem over his covert japa plans. She’s cast as reactive to almost everything, as Dubem plays the role of placating her. Gradually, their characters segue into the trite image of defensive boyfriend versus confrontational girlfriend, over choices both have to make for what’s best.
Although Ofoma’s story opens with a decoy of romance and the friction between Dubem’s mother and his girlfriend, it soon delves into pressing concerns. One of which is the question of transgenerational upward mobility in Nigeria, in how the realities of modern society affect the younger generation in preparing for marriage and their careers, in contrast to the older generation, as we see in the two young lovers and Dubem’s mother. The gnawing question many young people today have is: how has our parent’s generation found home at home? For this is one of the crucial instigators of why many have to leave or are leaving. It is why Dubem’s mother appears to be a more important character than the duo lead in A Japa Tale; a manifestation of the power of the creative subconscious at work.
Unbeknownst to Dika Ofoma, he has made her that answer: Not only is she daunting, she doesn’t display the indecisiveness of the young lovers, which tells us she was no different when she was the lovers’ age. My generation knows this and has seen it too well, that by social and political conditioning we have been made an infantile generation. It is such infantilism that makes it clear to us that Emuche pretends as if she doesn’t care, so she threatens and blackmails Dubem with breaking up or terminating her pregnancy; as Dubem in turn, without mettle, suggests cancelling his plan to japa. But is his decision influenced by his love for Emuche, or her not-so-subtle threats? For Dubem’s mother, we see her reproach in a rather unsuspecting turn when she says to them, after eavesdropping on their conversation: “I am very disappointed in both of you. How much is condom?” (LOL.)
She hovers over the flailing children. She sternly advises Emuche, in pretentious empathy, that whatever happens, Emuche will be more affected. She makes it very clear that her son, on the other hand, is going abroad because her money cannot be wasted. She goes on to dominate their characters in the last parts of the movie as she prays for them.
The praying scene may be the most authentic part of AJT, perhaps because of the prayer said in Igbo, the use of lighting to effect, or the ritualistic pose of The Mother over the “young adults” kneeling before her (this is surely not the generation that claims to know better). Yet this scene is the most troubling; a passive resolution at best. The mother’s institution over Dubem and Emuche—the so-called new generation—in this manner only reinforces their helplessness. Is this what Dika Ofoma wants us to see? A question: why the two cars Dubem and Emuche enter into in the last scene? It is a weird scriptwriting choice considering the title of the movie. Surely, they may be heading to different places. But watching the scene, I couldn’t help recalling a pop reference: “I buy motor I dey travel go obodo-oyinbo.” Nonetheless, there’s something to take home from engaging A Japa Tale.♦
Editor’s note: An earlier version of this essay was accompanied by an interview with the filmmaker Dika Ofoma, but this part was later withdrawn.
Sign up to Afapinen to receive more writing like this in your inbox.
Read more film reviews
SHARE