**Rungano Nyoni’s *On Becoming a Guinea Fowl* Offers a Sharp, Feminist Investigation of Family and Tradition**

Zambian-Welsh director Rungano Nyoni’s sophomore feature, *On Becoming a Guinea Fowl*, presents a darkly comedic and penetrating exploration of funeral traditions and familial relationships. With incisive humor, the film uncovers long-hidden secrets, particularly the culture of silence around sexual abuse. Through the lens of a woman grappling with societal norms, Nyoni creates a compelling feminist story that challenges the equilibrium between community fidelity and personal authenticity.

While the film’s humor and visual aesthetics verge on the surreal, Susan Chardy’s understated portrayal of Shula—a woman returning to her Zambian roots after years away—anchors it in a sense of realism. Nyoni, who shares a similar upbringing of being born in Zambia and raised in the UK, skillfully merges tone and visuals right from the outset. The narrative kicks off with the disturbing finding of a body on a desolate road, laying the groundwork for a story that unfolds with intensity and delicacy.

At a concise 99 minutes, *On Becoming a Guinea Fowl* progresses with urgency, gradually transitioning from subtle hints to stark realizations. As it delves into the difficulty of confronting entrenched traditions without breaking family bonds, the film draws parallels to Mira Nair’s *Monsoon Wedding* while establishing its unique path.

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### What Is *On Becoming a Guinea Fowl* About?

The film’s striking contrasts surface early on. While driving home from a costume party, Shula unexpectedly encounters the body of her uncle, Fred (Roy Chisha), lying by the roadside. Dressed in an oversized black outfit reminiscent of ’90s Missy Elliott and a sparkling helmet akin to *Phantom of the Paradise*, Shula’s detached, sarcastic manner enhances the surreal quality of the scene. When she contacts her father (Henry B.J. Phiri) to inform him of the death, she doesn’t address it immediately.

At first, her reaction appears perplexing, but a fleeting, surreal visual detail offers clarity. In an almost ethereal moment, Shula witnesses her younger self (played by Blessings Bhamjee) standing over Fred’s body, donning the same outrageous costume, her expression inscrutable. It’s a scene that is at once bizarre, darkly humorous, and profoundly tragic—suggesting a past trauma she has yet to face.

As the narrative progresses, Shula’s subdued reaction becomes more comprehensible. When her intoxicated cousin Nsansa (Elizabeth Chisela) arrives and scornfully labels Fred a “pervert,” their seemingly heartless humor conceals a shared anguish—one they are hesitant or unable to express fully.

As relatives convene for Fred’s funeral, Shula is expected to engage in various traditional mourning practices, many of which underscore the subjugation of younger women. She is assigned cooking duties, regardless of her emotional condition, and, alongside other women, must crawl on all fours as part of the ceremonial rites. The home grows increasingly overcrowded and chaotic, heightening her internal strife.

When Shula and Nsansa fetch their younger cousin Bupe (Esther Singini) from college, Bupe’s distressed behavior and a video confession she records reveal that Fred’s past actions have left enduring scars. Shula faces the daunting task of persuading her family to confront the reality about the man they are mourning.

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### *On Becoming a Guinea Fowl* Builds Tension Through Subtlety

Although Fred’s wrongdoings are eventually uncovered, Nyoni emphasizes implication rather than overt exposition, allowing the audience to piece together the painful memories that haunt Shula. As she fights to remain physically present for the funeral while mentally distancing herself for self-preservation, the film delivers a vivid depiction of her inner turmoil.

The stifling sound design, created by composer Lucrecia Dalt, amplifies the film’s ambiance, rendering the family home suffocating. Shula, Nsansa, and their friends often retreat to concealed spaces—closets, pantries—where they can drink and candidly discuss Fred, free from the oversight of their elders.

Notably, while the film critiques patriarchal practices, the male figures in the family remain conspicuously absent from the screen. Instead, the narrative centers on the women, who perpetuate these customs among themselves. The limitations imposed on them are so deeply rooted that they are accepted unquestioningly. For example, Shula is expected to cook for Fred’s young widow, Chichi (Norah Mwansa), simply because it’s deemed necessary.

The women sleep huddled together, leaving scant room for solitude. Mourning Fred becomes a collective, almost performative endeavor, blurring the distinction between genuine sorrow and societal expectation. Shula’s mother (Doris Naulapwa) evidently cherished her brother,