It seems just right that the age of social media is the age that has brought us a selection of the African political documentaries. There was Softie, which showed at Sundance. A daughter of one of South Sudan’s political elite made one that went to Berlin. Now, taking a bow in Venice, there is Bobi Wine: Ghetto President, set mainly in Uganda and featuring the “popstar MP” Bobi Wine (real name Robert Kyagulanyi).
We first see the artist in 2014 before the madness began, freestyling for a bunch of people in an Ugandan ghetto. We move on to 2016 and then to 2017, when he gets a political seat as a member of parliament.
A key scene comes when there is a vote to extend Yoweri Museveni’s term as president (he has been in power since 1986.) There is no real suspense to the process, if you have followed the news, but the scene succeeds in generating tension. At the end, it is a landslide for the incumbent. The yes men get feted; others get disciplinary actions. You begin to understand the brazenness of Museveni’s moves despite the man’s own stodginess.
After the bill passes, Bobi Wine becomes brazen himself, openly standing against candidates that Museveni supports. Naturally he is arrested, but not after his driver is killed. He is jailed by the military and beaten, a scene that is of course not shown. He is later released, but only to be taken to court by the police on accusations of treason. Fortunately, he is granted bail to take care of his injuries. He goes to the U.S. and gets press attention—but Museveni is immune to pressure of any kind.
Bobi Wine’s stay in the States gives the film a scene of pathos for those not very familiar with Museveni’s pre-presidential past, although a brief note at the start of the film might have been helpful. In the scene, the aspirant says he would like to speak with the incumbent.
“What happened to you?” he says he would like to ask his erstwhile favourite revolutionary. “You used to say that Africa’s problems are the leaders who stay in power. What happened?” The answer could lie in absolute power’s capacity to corrupt.
Naturally, this scene calls into question Bobi Wine’s own future. Might he do the same if granted the office of presidency? It looks like a question the man has considered when an interviewer asks. The solution, he says, lies in empowering the Ugandan people to make it impossible for that to happen. It is hardly a convincing answer, but it will have to serve while Bobi Wine is on the other side.
As far as Bobi Wine: Ghetto President can be considered an artistic document, it must be said that it is of the rough-and-tumble kind. It is suitably non-slick. The underdevelopment of Uganda and frequent scenes of unrest mean there can be no real expectation of nature’s wondrous production design. The music, mostly drawn from Bobi Wine’s discography, is jerky and jaunty, offering little to no aural elegance. And above all else, the narrative itself is too fragmentary, the zips across time and gaps in the story too conspicuous, to be easily digestible. This is, of course, inevitable given that filling those gaps would require access that no self-respecting life-president would ever grant to anyone clutching a camera.
But this is too minor to be a shortcoming. The dominant response of audiences to directors Moses Bwayo and Christopher Sharp should be gratitude, especially from politically minded viewers wherever they may hail from, because it ought to be easy for them to see parallels with the Uganda situation as depicted in this documentary across the globe.
Two examples can be drawn from West Africa and Europe. The paranoia that led Museveni to set the state’s violent apparatus against a non-violent movement was replicated in Nigeria in 2020 when young people took to the street to protest police brutality. The imprisonment of Bobi Wine upon his return to his country recalls Russia’s treatment of Aleksej Navalny, except that the Ugandan is now free while Navalny is still in jail. As a famous poet once said, “send not to know/for whom the bell tolls/it tolls for thee”.
Directors: Moses Bwayo, Christopher Sharp
Cinematography: Sam Benstead, Moses Bwayo, Michele Sibiloni
Editing: Paul Carlin
Music: Dan Jones
Producers: Christopher Sharp, John Battsek
Production companies: Southern Films, Ventureland
Venue: Venice Film Festival (Out of competition nonfiction)
Duration: 120 minutes
In English
