A Story About Self - An Interview with Chika Okoli
"I think the best story that you can tell is the one that you have lived and experienced yourself, one that you can relate to."
Welcome to what is undeniably the best month of the year. I am back with another interview, and this time I’m talking to my beautiful friend Chika Okoli. Chika is a producer, filmmaker, photographer, social media maven, and all-around creative. She is also behind the community, FABA [For Africans, By Africans]
I have always been in awe of Chika’s eye as a photographer and her deep sense of community, which I think drives a lot of her work - like this Stories as Told By Us project she produced in partnership with Afriquette. In this interview, which has been condensed and edited for clarity because we were 100% just gisting, we talk about algorithms, identity, storytelling, and being a woman making films. Chika’s honesty and humor are what make this interview and I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did doing it.
How would you describe who you are to someone who's never met you? Like to a new person?
That question gives me so much anxiety [laughs] because I’m still figuring it out. But I would say the things that I'm sure of, I'll say that I’m a content producer based in New York, and I'll talk about what I do with FABA. I don't know if that's the right answer to that question. But I mean, at the end of the day, what you do kind of makes up who you are. But, I don't know how to answer that question. That was the question I was dreading the most [laughs]
Okay, I’ll ask a different question because there was something you said that struck me, you said the things that I'm sure of, so what are the things that you are sure of?
Well, I am Nigerian, I'm an Igbo girl, I am an introvert, I love deep conversations. And if you don't know me, you would think I'm a very shy person or a very reserved person. But I love talking about things that interest me. I love making stories. I love telling them. I love filming. And I’ve noticed something about myself, in my 30’s, I’m very aware of just being me. And I think sometimes that could be the root of my anxiety. Just being extremely hyper-aware.
I don't know if this is the same thing. I'm going to give you an example. So, for me, I think what it means for me to be hyper-aware is to be so attuned to how I think other people see me and to have that interrupt my frequency of how I see myself. I wonder if that's the same thing for you?
You just read me like a book. Like when I'm having an interaction with someone, I'm usually focused on what I look like, what do I sound like to this person? What does this person think of me? Am I communicating my brand identity? You know, it's like you have this idea of what you want to be, and then there's what people see. And sometimes those two things don't match. And when I really focus on how this started for me, I think it's because of my upbringing. My mom growing up, was always like, what will people say? Whenever she had to rebuke us for something we did, she would say, ‘what would people say about you now that you’ve done this?” And I think that has always just stuck in my head.
I think that's such a Nigerian refrain. Like, what would [people] say? I think we don't really realize how it shapes us. And our parents are probably saying it casually, but it’s like you are kind of fucking me up right now.
And that’s something I realized just a few weeks ago - and it was hard for me to admit this about myself - but I realized that subconsciously, every step that I have taken to get to where I am, that defines myself, for the most part, has been about, what will people say? How will people react? I didn't realize this about myself until a few weeks ago, and [it] has made me sort of question everything about the decisions and the choices that I've made. And at the time when I was making them, I mean, I felt it in my bones that I was doing it for me. When people talk about what people say, live your best life – that’s easier said than done. And it’s very nuanced in the way that it affects the decisions we make; we don’t even know when we do it or how it seeps into our lives.
When I phrased the question, what are you sure of, you said storytelling. So, I wanted to know, what does storytelling mean to you?
Storytelling is important to me, because you get to shape a narrative, and have that control when it feels like everything is shaking. So, having that control to be able to narrate an experience or a story gives me the space to be able to explore the things that I want to without being sort of subjected to people's expectations. I think, for me, that is the most important part about storytelling that I enjoy. It gives me control that I wouldn't normally have in my day-to-day life. And then there are the secondary benefits, like understanding the why of whatever it is that you're researching. You know, digging deep, [and] understanding why the concept or the issue that you're researching exists.
If you had to pick a story or a project that you’ve done that really solidified these feelings for you, what would it be?
I think the best stories are yet to be done. But of the ones I have done in the past that intrigues me, I would say the Agege bread one. That was the first documentary I ever worked on. Normally, I’ve been producing, like light content, not a lot of research, just stuff for social [media]. But this time around, I was actually looking into a concept and how it came to be, and a lot of new information surfaced that changed my perspective. And that’s what a good story does when told correctly. It changed my perspective about culture, like how culture is shaped and formed. This bread came from rail workers in Jamaica who came to Lagos to work on the railway, and for me, it was interesting to see how culture travels, and you teach it to a new group of people, and they take it and make it their own. So, that was interesting to me to find out. And it was exciting, whenever I achieved [a goal] or crossed the hurdle, I was like ‘I really did this.’ But yeah, the idea of researching and solving problems and challenges and finding out new information that changes your perspective about life, I enjoy it.
Were you ever scared when you were working on this project?
Yes now [laughs] So we had to go to Agege to shoot this documentary and when you’re shooting in Lagos, [area boys] will find you. So, they all gathered around us and were like, ‘you have to pay us.’ And honestly, I was scared, I just had to summon the courage. I thought to myself, ‘wait, I’m a Lagos girl, now.’ Na ajepako I be, and I turned that part of myself on. It was kind of like code-switching where you have to switch on to some kind of alter ego. God knows, I didn’t even know that I had it in me, but I had to match their energy.
[Laughs] and how did they respond?
They were like, “sister calm down.” I [matched] their energy sha, that’s all they want. A lot of female filmmakers get a lot of harassment from subjects, and there were two men that were hinting at something about me being their girlfriend. Like, “you know you’re a fine girl.” And you have to deal with all that trash and keep your focus because they’re the ones that have all the information and you need it. So, you have to navigate and that was very challenging for me, I found that I couldn’t tell them off and at the same time I wasn’t going to do anything [with them.] I find that [for] female filmmakers, you have to navigate all of that while trying to get the information you need. That was also a scary situation, at some point, I thought I wasn’t going to get access to the people if I didn’t budge on whatever it was that they were asking for.
Was this your first time experiencing something like that?
Yes. And when I spoke with another filmmaker friend of mine, she was like yes, this is something that happens on the continent on a regular [basis]. She was telling me that the subject that she was trying to get was outrightly asking her for sex.
So, I'm just wondering, when people see women doing work in these spaces, do they not see the person as a professional filmmaker? Or do they just see a woman?
It’s woman first, and then whatever comes after. And especially in a place like Nigeria where the patriarchy is very strong. I'll give you another example, I was doing a lot of research back home and it took me to the East. When I go home, I'm like, everybody's type [laughs] I don’t know why. And I could feel their stares and not in the way that ‘I’m interested in [your work]’ I had to travel with a guy, I couldn’t imagine doing it alone. Traveling with a guy, he was sort of my shield. But to think that I can’t go around and do my research or talk to people the way that I would want to, without having to think about my safety.
Men have that luxury, and we don’t.
That’s horrible. And in the work we do, you want to be free because you’re not there to be noticed, you’re there to observe and get information. You’re there to blend in, but how can you blend in when you’re a woman?
Exactly. And you have that in the back of your mind, you still [have] to do your job and do it well. So, imagine if you didn’t have to worry about that and how much easier and mind freeing it would be to focus on the work and not worry about your safety or someone undressing you with their eyes. Being a woman in Nigeria, and anywhere, is not easy. People see you as a woman first and everything else.
You said something earlier about your best story hasn't been told yet. So, I wanted to know, what is your ideal story?
I think the best story that you can tell is the one that you have lived and experienced yourself, one that you can relate to.
I love [producing] documentaries but I would love to tell a story about my life. I notice that the really good films, writers pull elements of themselves and their life and mix them with other things So, for me, my ideal story would be to create something that’s a reflection of the life that I’ve lived. And not necessarily about myself but exploring the experiences that I’ve had and seeing them as someone else’s story.
I feel that 100% because the story that is so on my mind is the one that I felt. I felt it in my bones so I feel like I can put it on the page. I feel like everything else is not the real thing.
Those are the stories that touch. It’s about writing what you know, and those stories really hit hard. I love stories where writers take a piece of themselves and put it in the story. Embellish it with other things, but at the core, this is my life. Like check out, I May Destroy You [by Michaela Coel]
Chika, that show destroyed me. I could not stop thinking about that show.
It was very impactful because she worked from a place of experience. You can’t write what you don't know. Or if you do, it won’t hit the same.
I know you work in social media a lot, and it can be a warped lens for you to look at people and yourself through. So, I wanted to know, what’s your relationship with social media?
[Laughs], it’s a love-hate relationship with social media and it has taken some getting used to. And it comes back to what people think of you or what you think people think of you. I find that, at first, when social media started, we really didn't care so much about the stuff that we posted. But at some point, I don't know when that changed.
Where do you think it came from?
Algorithms maybe. It sneaks up on you because you’re not really thinking about it like that. When I first joined Instagram, I would take a picture of something cute that I see, and I would post it straight up. I didn’t care about whether people liked it or not and there was no pressure. And suddenly, I’m realizing that before I post one picture, I’m really examining it, like does this fit the idea of [who] people think I am? I want to say that it’s the algorithm, but at the same time, I think it’s the kind of content that we post – picture-perfect, aesthetically pleasing pictures – and when you see a post like that, and you want to post your measly flower post [laughs] it’s kind of created this impression that you have [to be] perfect. Whether we like it or not, our social media is where people who are not in our close circle of friends or our weaker links, that’s where they get information about us. And you're thinking about how do you want these people to perceive you? What image of yourself do you want to put out there for people who don’t really know you? I think the pressure comes from there. It’s love and hate [with social media] because I think it’s such a wonderful and powerful tool that gives you access to the world. Social media is good in that way, you get exposed to a lot of things. If I had social media when I was growing up, my eyes would have opened since [laughs]
Gen Z oh [Laughs]
Yes, that’s why these Gen Z’s are something else because they are exposed to the global culture and the way culture is transferred and shared through social media, I love. I also hate the fact that even if you don’t want to, you feel like you have to be perfect in terms of what you post. Sometimes, I see a picture I wouldn’t normally post, and I post it, just as an act of defiance. And just to remind myself that I shouldn’t care. And as a creative, you realize that it puts this pressure on you to create just for the sake of announcing it. There are a lot of people that we follow that’s like, every day, they're putting out content and you feel pressured, and you feel not good enough. Like I should be churning out at this rate as well and I think the thing that social media [promotes] is comparison without context. And it's obviously not good to do that. But it's affected the way that I work in the industry, and I just had to take a break and stopped posting for a while and tried to figure out why I post things. Like to be mindful, mindful. Instagramming.
Okay, so I’ll ask my first question again. Who are you? In this exact moment?
So, my name is Chika. I’m still figuring out life in my early 30s, I'm learning a lot. I'm a freelance content producer, who is still struggling with the idea of identity and not caring what people think about me. I love to tell stories, and I love to dance when no one is watching. I think I'm like the best dancer in my head [laughs] and I love deep conversations.
they (w)rote.
I love this Q&A with NPR’s Audie Cornish for ELLE. Cornish tells Madison Feller “I used to feel imposter syndrome so strongly. Then I turned 40 and thought, This isn't cute anymore. How long can I pretend not to know what I'm doing? I actually really know what I'm doing.”
Speaking of Q&A’s, The Republic’s First Draft Q&A’s are always worth a read, and they’re not behind a paywall. Author and political analyst, Nanjala Nyabola, tells the publication that she believes in writing what she knows. ‘I’ve found that if you put aside the desire to be seen and just write from an authentic place of wanting to tell stories you know and that you think the world might profit from hearing, it will take you a long way, even in nonfiction.’
Amanda Mull writes about Pandemic Senioritis for the Atlantic. As someone who is in Canada and won’t be eligible for the vaccine till the end of this month, I felt this so hard.
For the New York Times, Kevin Roose writes about the growing number of people with financial cushions and in-demand skills, the dread and anxiety of the past year who are giving way to a new kind of professional fearlessness and saying YOLO!
I love this story about Brandi Carlile, written by Elamin Abdelmahmoud for Buzzfeed.
Kovie Biakolo writes about Taurean queen Janet Jackson for Vulture on the 20th anniversary of her album All for You.
Source Open News conducts these insightful interviews with former journalists about why they left the industry. This one with Pheobe Gavin struck me. She says, “a calling isn’t a job or an industry. It’s an activity or an impact.” You can read more of these interviews here and for more insight, this survey by Carla Murphy about who leaves the industry and why is a good place to start.
(w)rite back.
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