Makongo

The magic of documentary film lies in its ability to explore lands and communities that remain unknown, overlooked by mainstream media and fiction cinema. When Central African filmmaker Elvis Sabin Ngaïbino sets up his camera in a camp of the Aka people, a community of hunter-gatherers, it is with the eye of an ethnographic documentarian that he carefully records and restores reality. With no embellishment, no narration, and no added music, the direct cinema approach is raw—but remarkably sensitive, attuned to the sounds of animals, rain, the equatorial forest, and the everyday life of the community. Makongo becomes deeply musical in its natural setting, not least thanks to the music brought by the inhabitants themselves—whistling, singing into a stick-shaped microphone, and playing instruments made from materials found in Mother Nature’s bounty.

A slice of life featuring two inseparable friends—good Samaritans and instructors—who devote themselves selflessly to bringing education to the children of their camp. We follow them as they strive to make forest products profitable in order to realize their dream: harvesting gnetum, a highly sought-after plant with protein-rich leaves; climbing trees to collect caterpillars, a prized national delicacy; and transforming wood into school slates. Between bartering chalk and cigarettes “to keep warm” and teaching arithmetic to kids, their journey leads them to the capital, Bangui—where the city introduces them to a world of risks, shady dealings, and discrimination. Makongo astonishes with its poetic ability to make essential human values—sharing, kindness, and social commitment—feel profoundly accessible and in harmony with the natural world.

Bruno Boëz
Cultural worker and critic