‘I want people to broaden their horizons about what African love can be’: Pamela Adie on ‘Ìfé: (The Sequel)’

In 2020, the world met Ìfé and Adaora, two Nigerian women meeting for their first in-person date in Lagos after fostering a close relationship online. This fictional love was chronicled in the groundbreaking queer romance short film of 35 minutes simply titled Ìfé (a gender-neutral name, but also a Yoruba word meaning love or affection), written and directed by Uyaiedu Ikpe-Etim and produced by Nigerian LGBTQ+ activist and filmmaker Pamela Adie. 

Widely considered the first Nollywood lesbian feature film and one of the first queer Nigerian films ever, Ìfé has now begotten a follow-up called Ìfé: (The Sequel), which continues the story of the couple, several years in the future. Ìfé (Uzomaka Power) is engaged to a South African woman (Adunolaoluwa Osinowo), while Adaora (played in the sequel by Gbubemi Ejeye) has gone on to marry her fiancé Dafe (Ozzy Agu), to whom she was preparing to marry in the first film. A chance encounter between the two, however, brings all their memories tumbling back and their future into question.

Adie now takes the reins as director for Ìfé: (The Sequel), which just made its world premiere at BFI Flare: London LGBTQIA+ Film Festival, while Ikpe-Etim continues as writer. Purple Hour had the chance to speak with Adie about the journey of this story and these characters, who have become dear to queer Nigerian audiences and immensely important in the progression of queer visibility in the country.

Purple Hour: You move from the role of producer in the first film into also being the director and co-writer for the sequel—while remaining as producer. I imagine that you know these characters inside and out, so I’m curious what this transition was like creatively and how this affected your connection to the story of Ìfé and Adaora.

Pamela Adie: This is my narrative feature debut, so it’s the first time that I’m moving from being a producer to directing. Stepping into this role for the film wasn’t that challenging for me, because, as you mentioned, these are characters that I already know. This is a story that I’ve sat with, lived with, and interrogated. As I was also a producer on this film, I was wearing many hats at the same time. One of the more difficult things for me was having to juggle being a director and producer.

Another thing I struggled with was making sure that my actors felt comfortable, especially during the intimacy scenes. One of the cast members, Cindy Amadi, actually passed away—the actor who played Adaora in the first film—before we were able to make this new one. It was kind of a challenge for me to work with Gbubemi because I wasn’t familiar with her style and what she was comfortable with. 

However, in terms of the story and how I wanted it to be seen and portrayed, that was easy because I had almost the same people who worked on the first film. It was very easy for me to explain my vision and for them to help me bring it to life in terms of cinematography, music, and sound design. It was like going back to work with friends, and it was a very collaborative effort. Everybody knew what they were there to do.

Ìfé only had two characters, while the sequel introduces new people to this world who are very important. Could you talk about the casting from both a pragmatic perspective as well as an emotional one—making sure these actors fulfilled the vision you had?

I actually started working on the sequel in 2021, right after we finished making the short film. Speaking with the writer, I started to think about who I knew within the Nollywood space that could fit some of these roles, specifically for Aunty Kainene—that’s Adaora’s aunt—and Dafe, who’s played by Ozzy Agu. Those two roles for me were very important because I had started building relationships with these actors. I went to school with Ozzy—he’s a classmate of mine and someone I’ve known for a long time. I like his acting style because Dafe needed to be someone who was present, but not overly assertive. He was the best fit. We had been having this conversation about him playing this role for around two years before we shot it.

Najite Dede, who plays Aunty Kainene, is also a very good friend of mine. Her character was so important because it’s about allyship within the family. It was also about representing queer elders. It was important for me to have someone who understood that role and was able to fit into it without needing too much guidance. I instinctively knew that she was the best fit because of everything that she embodies and the fact that she also has similar beliefs. We also had multiple conversations over time, and then when it was time to shoot, it was very seamless. 

As far as the other characters, we did need to have an audition. I was really interested in bringing on new talent, people who are really gifted and just needed a breakthrough. I was also particularly interested in women being a huge part of not only the cast but also the crew, being heads of departments, and so on.

I found the characterisation of Dafe quite unexpected. He really subverts how we think he will react when Adaora comes to him again about Ìfé. The first thing that came to mind was that he’s not only forgiving, but he’s also immensely empathetic to what Adaora is going through and her struggle to come to terms with her sexuality. 

Dafe is one character I really love. If you watch the film, you see that, first of all, Dafe is a stay-at-home husband. He’s the one who cooks. He’s like the caregiver at home. Adaora is the one who goes out for work, the one who’s serving guests, serving alcohol, and things like that. It was really important for me because I wanted to show things differently. Masculinity doesn’t necessarily have to always follow one path. There are diverse ways to be a man, especially in the African context, where patriarchy is very, very ingrained in our society and how people see gender roles.

The fact that he is very empathetic and that he didn’t get violent, and there were no bouts of rage—that was done intentionally. The way that he dealt with the situation he found himself in was very refreshing for me. When you hear stories like this, sometimes the men get violent or very disruptive. Dafe also knew that Adaora had [an affair with] Ìfé before she married him, so it’s not like he was blindsided by that fact. That’s what Dafe is really about, and that’s what we wanted to show with his character. We had a lot of conversations about this. Ozzy was like, “I need him to be more angry.” I said, “No, that’s the whole point of Dafe.” 

The film includes a short conversation about open relationships and ethical non-monogamy between several side characters. I’m curious as to the Nigerian context around ethically non-monogamous relationships and why you included this scene.

That’s something that’s starting to be more popular here, especially in the queer community. It’s something that people are actively talking about. Including this was really more about representation and making sure that the wider community saw themselves in the film. This film isn’t just about lesbians. There’s a gay man, for instance, and it wasn’t just about showing that there’s one way to have a relationship. We just kind of touched on it and didn’t expand too much, but we put that in there for representation. 

You’ve been working with this film for so long, and now you’re finally beginning the exhibition part of this journey. What do you hope will happen when this film meets its next audiences?

When the short film was released, the most common comments were: this film is too short—why did it end so abruptly? And: when is part two coming out? That told me that people really identified with the characters, that people really stayed with them and saw themselves represented. When people watch the film, I want them to leave with empathy. I want people to broaden their horizons about what African love can be. At the heart of this film is a very simple truth: that the desire for love, happiness, and belonging is universal. I hope that as the film travels across festivals, that’s really what people take away.

Of course, there’s more to it—there’s also a political side to it. When you look at the political landscape on the continent now as it relates to queer rights, with a lot of countries like Ghana and Senegal passing harsher laws against LGBTQ people. There’s a part of me that’s very interested in people seeing this film, because I feel like when we tell stories like this, it’s an act of resistance. We’re saying we’re here and we’re not going anywhere. We deserve to have love and to be freely and happily like everybody else.