The movie opens with a scene of a man running through a rough corner, as though chasing something or being chased. It appears that he is determined to get past the moment with every ounce of strength in him. At his final stop, we see him appealing to a man who owns a car to help ferry his pregnant wife to the hospital. This scene gives a simple message: a man who is so invested in his family that he is ready to sacrifice anything.
That is the character type of Kennedy (Kagwa Kaamba) we are open to, a kind family man who loves his wife dearly. But his characterization does not take long to change from being good to bad. It only took his wife to give birth to an albino child, and there, everything changed. Kennedy, who could run to heaven and back for his wife, detests his wife, Chama, because she gave birth to a Mwabi (a ghost), as Joseph (Thabo Kaamba), the baby, would later be chastised.
Can You See Us? does not take long to expose us to what it means to live as an albino in society. This is perfect as an introduction to a movie about stereotypes or discomfort, stamping the injustice in the faces of the perpetrators. If you fall into the category of people like Kennedy who become uncomfortable due to someone else’s otherness, the director, Kenny ROC Mumba, places it before you as, “Look at the evil you are.” There is no better way to open a movie. The movie begins with a scene of birth, which shows where the injustice begins. People living with albinism do not grow into societal hate; they are born into it.
Produced by Yasmin Dodia-Mumba, Can You See Us? is a coming-of-age film that tells narrations around the themes of love, betrayal, bullying, and other human dynamics through the lens of Joseph, who, in the movies, identifies as a male child but is biologically female. This character switch represents how unbiased the hate is towards people living with albinism. Whether you’re a girl or boy, society has something scornful to say about you.
From the dialogue, the movie presents an aura of resourcefulness. Even in a scene where older Joseph is up on stage singing with his beautiful voice, the resourcefulness still aches at the back of our throats because we understand that no one deserves to go through such hatred to survive.
Anyone can fall in love at any point, even in odd places and under odd circumstances, but I failed to see how love could have grown between Martin and Chama.
Unlike Joseph’s biological father, Martin adopts him like his own child, but I wonder if he is being cared for by Chama and Joseph out of ordinary love or pity because he doesn’t want to fall into the category of people who detest albinism. Would he have reacted the same if Joseph were his biological child? This is one of Chama’s fears—a valid one because people and emotions change, like Kennedy.
One interesting turn about this movie is watching Chama do exactly what she hates. She criticizes society for hating her son and for being mean and wicked to her, but we see the way she treats the “madman,” played by Robert Nyirenda. It is in everyone: “What we can’t understand, we fear, and what we fear, we seek to destroy.” She loathes and misjudges the madman, so we would consider that Chama might also hate an albino if she hasn’t given birth to one. This is how much of a hypocrite we are: Are you a good person, or are you just good by circumstance?
Baby Joseph’s woes don’t end in childhood. If anything, they get worse. He loses both his parents at age ten, and then the question of who would be responsible for him creeps in. I wonder why his favorite aunt couldn’t take this responsibility; she acts like she cares, but when he needs her the most, she pretends like she still cares by refusing to take responsibility for him. Love is not invincible if you say to someone, “I love you” or I care about you.” Those are empty words. Until you act like it and show that you care, they will forever be empty.
The screenwriter (Lawrence Thompson) is one of the rocks of this film. The progression of the story carries the audience along while evoking strong emotions, especially empathy. When Kennedy says to his new wife “We vowed for better or worse; this is the worse”, I wonder how that must have been easy to say, judging from how he threw his ex-wife out with a child despite knowing it was for better or worse. It isn’t even the worst time for them, he is just a plain coward, and I blame karma for being nonexistent.
If karma does exist, Chama and Martin are good people at least, but they die. Kennedy makes a good life for himself despite his initial cruel act. But a person’s character does not leave them. When he takes custody of Joseph, pretending to care, he still beats him because of his wife. That tells us the kind of man he is – a father and husband who cares more about what people think of him than what his child thinks of him.
Joseph made it big in the music industry by sheer luck and good people like his classmates and his childhood love Sharon (Marie Ndhlovu, Chipego Mwiinga) because it could have been worse. Lots of people who have suffered Joseph’s fate never made it to tell their story. Some could never recover from the excessive bullying and taunting of others. He is just one of those very few survivors.
The cinematography of this film is one of the reasons it is appealing to the eye. Each scene is approached with descriptive colors that evoke emotions and follows the sequence of acts. Despite being the first Zambian feature film on Netflix, it was worth it.
