Souleymane Cissé: “Our Cinema Must Aim at the Development of Africa.”

Four days before his death, Souleymane Cissé was still dreaming of the future.

On February 15, 2025, the 84-year-old filmmaker sat down with The Nollywood Reporter, via Zoom, for what would become his final interview. Rain was hitting Lagos, Nigeria hard that day, knocking out cell towers and making the conversation difficult. But Cissé spoke with the same fire that had driven him for over fifty years as a film maker. He spoke about change, about who Africans are, and about his belief that African cinema was about to get its due. “I’m still waiting for the transformation of African cinema,” he said. “It won’t be long now.”

The limitations exacerbated by the inclement weather dramatized exactly some of the problems African cinema faces every day technologically. Perhaps the technical difficulties were a blessing in disguise. They forced a slower, more contemplative exchange that allowed Cissé’s words to carry the weight they deserved.

Before we abandoned Zoom to continue the conversation through text, it became very obvious why people called him a master. He had this calm demeanour, which also was the hallmark of how he spoke. Cissé spoke French and Bambara, and my French stops at Bonjour. When I uttered that French word, his eyes lit up with genuine warmth. His daughter Fataou Cissé was the designated translator, but the storm in Lagos scuttled this three-way conversation intermittently until we pulled the brakes.

The interview came about through a series of connections that felt almost destined. Victoria Lissong Richards-Ohwotu, Founder of the Sunu Reew Medical Mission program, facilitated the conversation, while Chike Nwoffiah of the Silicon Valley African Film Festival provided crucial assistance.

Just hours before this exchange, Cissé had attended the mission’s Arts and Culture Night in The Gambia, where he received an award from the Institute of Travel and Tourism of The Gambia. It was fitting that his final public appearance celebrated the intersection of cinema and healing, two forces he believed could transform the African consciousness. Cissé passed away on February 19, 2025, in Mali, his homeland.

What emerged from that storm-interrupted conversation was not only his final thoughts, but the core philosophy that had guided him from his debut short film “Cinq jours d’une vie” to his latest work “Oka” – a belief that African cinema was on the verge of its destined breakthrough, and that film could be medicine for a continent still healing from historical wounds.

The four month interregnum between when he passed and this publication was necessitated by the request of Cissé’s estate.

Curiosity and Passion

When asked what first drew him to filmmaking, Cissé’s response was characteristically direct: “What drew me to cinema? It was curiosity and passion. I got into this because I was passionate about it. So, all my films reflect this desire and curiosity to discover the world.”

This curiosity had taken him from Bamako to Moscow’s prestigious VGIK film school in the 1960s, making him part of the first generation of formally trained African filmmakers. But unlike many of his contemporaries who stayed in Europe, Cissé returned home, determined to tell African stories through an African lens.

“Looking back over my career, the film that I think best reflects my artistic vision is ‘Den Muso’ (The Young Girl), my first feature film,” he reflected. “But apart from that, all my films make me want to discover the world.”

That 1975 film established themes that would define his career: the tension between tradition and modernity, the power of women in African society, and the complex dynamics of cultural identity in a rapidly changing world. It was followed by “Baara” (1978), a searing indictment of corruption and class struggle, and “Finye” (1982), which explored generational conflict and social transformation.

But it was “Yeelen” (1987) that brought Cissé international recognition, winning the Jury Prize at Cannes and establishing him as what many considered “Africa’s greatest living filmmaker.” The film, deeply rooted in Bambara mythology, told the story of a young man’s spiritual journey while serving as an allegory for Africa’s own path to enlightenment.

Looking to the Future

Throughout his career, Cissé maintained that cinema should be more than entertainment – it should be prophecy. “My films are always a projection into the future,” he explained in his final interview. “From my first short film, ‘Cinq jours d’une vie’, to my latest, ‘Oka’, I have always projected myself into the future, because I firmly believe that tomorrow will be the wake-up day. That’s why I’m always ahead of the game in my vision of things.”

This forward-looking perspective made his films both timeless and eerily prescient. “Baara” anticipated the economic and political upheavals that would sweep across Africa in the 1980s and 1990s. “Finye” explored the generational tensions that continue to shape African societies today. On the other hand, “Yeelen” presented a vision of spiritual and cultural renaissance that many argue is still unfolding.

But Cissé’s prophetic vision came with frustration. Despite his international acclaim, he watched as African cinema struggled for recognition and support. “In Mali I don’t know how long we haven’t made films,” he lamented. “I see very few African films. Otherwise, I don’t even see any, except for a few that are broadcast on television.”

This scarcity wasn’t just about funding or distribution. It was about vision. “Our cinema must aim at the development of Africa,” he insisted. “That’s what my films are all about.” He believed that African politicians had failed to understand cinema’s transformative power, a blindness that kept the continent’s stories marginalized on the global stage.

Speaking Your Truth

Perhaps no issue hit a nerve in Cissé more than the question of language in African cinema. When asked about contemporary filmmakers who looked to Hollywood for inspiration rather than African traditions, his response revealed both his philosophical depth and his passionate frustration.

“For me, cinema is first and foremost about cultural identity,” he said. “One has to express themselves through their identity. It’s the only way to pass one’s culture because it’s through your mother tongue that you can better express yourself.”

This wasn’t mere cultural nationalism. For Cissé, language was the key to authentic expression and genuine connection. “In Africa there are a lot of foreign languages that divide us,” he explained. “So, we need to know and recognize ourselves in order to identify with others. Language plays a very important role in this process.”

When pressed about the challenges facing African filmmakers who must choose between local authenticity and global accessibility, Cissé’s response was sharp: “It’s a shame that an African should ask me this question. If an American, a European or an Asian had asked me, I might have reacted. But, if you’ll pardon the expression, when an African asks me that question, it honestly bothers me.”

His frustration wasn’t with the questioner personally, but with what he saw as internalized colonialism, the acceptance of the idea that African languages were somehow inadequate for global cinema. “God created all societies with a language,” he said. “I don’t see why we can’t use our languages.”

Healing Through Art

Cissé’s final public appearance at the Sunu Reew Medical Mission in The Gambia revealed another dimension of his vision: cinema as healer. The event, which brought together healthcare workers and artists in The Gambia, moved him deeply.

“Last night, I received an award from Sunu Reew Medical Mission. It’s a great gift. I told them so yesterday. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my life,” he said in the interview, referring to the award from the Institute of Travel and Tourism of The Gambia. “The fact that the medical profession can recognize our values and creations means that we are aiming for the same goals. The medical profession is aiming for human health, and we are aiming to change the mentality of human beings and Africans.”

This connection between cinema and healing wasn’t metaphorical for Cissé. “With images, the message is easily conveyed. This allows the patient to escape, because cinema awakens the conscience and heals the individual,” he explained. His films had always been intended as medicine for what he saw as Africa’s wounded consciousness: stories that could help the continent remember its strength and envision its future.

No Lessons to Give

Despite his status as a master filmmaker, Cissé consistently resisted the role of teacher or mentor. When asked for advice for young filmmakers, his response was typically self-effacing: “Sincerely, I don’t have any advice to give. If you want to make films, you have to be passionate about it. If they are passionate and have clear ideas in their heads, it’s clear that they will be able to express themselves.”

This wasn’t false modesty but a genuine belief in the individual journey of artistic discovery. “Diversity is great. There’s no need to lecture filmmakers. It’s up to them to express what moves them,” he said. “When it comes to film, I don’t have any lessons to give young people.”

Yet his reluctance to preach didn’t mean he lacked conviction about what cinema should do. “Cinema is not just about identity,” he explained. “Cinema is a reflection of nature, society and evolution. Therefore, you need to master all that to be able to project yourself into the future. Others are going to the moon. As for us, thanks to cinema, we have to go further than the moon.”

This was Cissé’s vision in its purest form: cinema not as escapism but as transformation, not as entertainment but as evolution. He believed African filmmakers should be more ambitious than their global counterparts, using their art to achieve what technology alone could not.

Still Waiting for Change

In his final interview, Cissé remained optimistic about African cinema’s future, even as he acknowledged its current struggles. “I’m still longing for the transformation of African cinema. I’m convinced that it will be recognized in a near future. As for now, it is not yet structured.”

This lack of structure wasn’t just about funding or distribution networks. For him, it was about vision and political will. “African politicians need to get to grips with cinema so that African films can be known and recognized throughout the world. That’s what is lacking on the African continent,” he said.

But he also saw signs of change. The very fact that he was being interviewed by The Nollywood Reporter, a publication dedicated to African cinema, represented the kind of infrastructure that could support the transformation he envisioned. The success of Nollywood, despite its limitations, proved that African audiences were hungry for their own stories.

“Culture must escape politics,” he said, “because politicians have never understood the role of African cinema in the development of our societies. That’s a shame. When this happens one day, there will undoubtedly be substantial changes in the lives of our fellow citizens.”

What He Left Behind

Souleymane Cissé died as he lived: looking forward. His final words in the interview were characteristic: “Thank you very much.” Not a goodbye, but an expression of gratitude for the opportunity to share his vision one more time.

His legacy lies not just in the films he made but in the possibilities he imagined. “Yeelen,” his masterpiece, ends with a young boy walking into the dawn, carrying the light of knowledge into an uncertain future. It’s an image that captures Cissé’s essential optimism: the belief that enlightenment is always possible, that transformation is always coming, that tomorrow will indeed be the wake-up day.

That boy in “Yeelen” represents the next generation of African filmmakers – the ones who will inherit Cissé’s vision and carry it forward. They may not follow his exact path, may not share all his aesthetic choices, but they will carry his essential message: that African cinema has the power to heal, to transform, and to project the continent into a future worthy of its past.

In The Gambia, as Cissé received his final award, he spoke of cinema awakening the conscience and healing the individual. It was a fitting end for a filmmaker who had spent his life believing that movies could be medicine, that stories could be prophecy, and that the transformation he had always promised was not just possible but inevitable.

The revolution he started is far from finished. But as Souleymane Cissé always believed, it won’t be long now. Tomorrow will be the wake-up day.