Directors Note

 

In 2017, I did the unthinkable—I gave up on film. If you've ever had to walk away from the one thing that makes you you, then you know: there’s a very specific kind of heartbreak reserved for that. The kind that sits heavy in your chest, whispering "What if?" when you least expect it.
But before we get there, let’s rewind.
I knew I wanted to be a writer before I even knew how to spell “career.” Five years old and already crafting stories in my head. Some kids dreamt of being astronauts or presidents—I just wanted to write. And that never changed.
At 18, fresh out of high school, I did something insane: I wrote a TV script (by hand, mind you) and marched into every major TV station in the country, convinced someone would see my genius. Spoiler alert: they didn’t. Most of them didn’t even acknowledge my existence. But KTN did.
They told me my script was chosen from a mountain of professional proposals because, despite
its handwritten chaos, the story was undeniable. That moment? That was it. I quit university,
went to film school, and thought, This is the beginning of everything.
And for a while, it was.
A few years later, KTN called me again. They wanted another show. Enter Changing Times—the show that changed my life. I was building a production company, writing stories that mattered, and doing what I loved. It was magic.
Until it wasn’t.
Three years in, the show was canceled. Suddenly, the industry that had once welcomed me with open arms started treating me like an outsider. Pitch after pitch, rejection after rejection. My stories were “too complex for a Kenyan audience.” (Oh? So Kenyans don’t do nuance now? (Interesting.)
I fought for years. And in 2017, after yet another brutal rejection, I waved the white flag. Some dreams, I told myself, are better left in the past.
Except… dreams have a funny way of haunting you.

A year later, I got restless. If the industry didn’t want my stories, I’d take them straight to theaudience. I scraped together funding for my first independent series, This Is Life. It was beautiful, well-crafted, everything I had ever wanted to create. And then we made a rookie mistake: we spent all the money on production and had nothing left for marketing.
We launched a website, hoping people would find their way to it. They didn’t. The show—the best work I’d ever done—barely got seen. That loss? It burned. I took another two-year break.
Then, in 2021, I decided to gamble one last time. I got on Facebook and asked for Ksh 250,00 to make a film. A generous Facebook friend sent me the money (Bless your soul, my guy), and with that, I shot my first film, Nairobby.
Making a full movie on such a tight budget? Insanity. The kind that keeps you up at night, wondering if you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. When Netflix rejected it, I thought, not this time. I refuse to lose again.
I reached deep, found the boldness of my 18-year-old self, and pushed. A few months later, the email came: Netflix loved the film. I could finally pay my cast and crew what I had promised them. And just like that, the underdog was back in the game.
Nairobby went on to be nominated for over 20 international awards. It opened the Black Vancouver Film Festival. It was named one of the best films to watch by The New York Times. (Yes. That New York Times.)
Then came Instant Dad on Netflix. Then A Better Life, a series about a young activist in Nairobi’s biggest slum.
And now? A new dream: Avant Movies—a space where we tell the stories that actually matter.
Stories that dive deep, that are fashionably raw, and real. No more gatekeepers. No more
bureaucracy and red tape or waiting for permission. Just powerful storytelling, directly to the
people who get it.
You made it. We’re so glad you found us. It’s time to rediscover depth and trust me—we are just
scratching the surface.