1. What inspired the story behind your short film?
I wanted to explore what it means to stand up for others—especially in those moments when it feels safer to look away. Silence can be a form of complicity, and Jimbi became my way of confronting that. I chose to frame the story through the lens of sexual violence because it’s a pressing issue in our communities that’s too often ignored. The film asks, “What happens when we fail to act?” For me, it’s a call for empathy, courage, and accountability.

2. What message or emotion do you hope the audience takes away from your film?
I want the audience to sit with discomfort. To reflect on their own moments of silence and ask, “What did I ignore? What did I allow to happen?” At its heart, Jimbi is about responsibility. I hope it encourages people to be more conscious of their role in the world around them.

3. What’s your go-to creative ritual before a shoot day?
The night before, I revisit my visual references and the emotional intentions of the story. On shoot day, I go through them again—this time while listening to music that matches the mood of the film. It helps me stay grounded and emotionally in tune with the story I’m telling.

4. What’s one film you wish you had directed—and why?
Rumble Fish by Francis Ford Coppola. It’s raw, poetic, and visually bold. I’m drawn to stories about troubled, emotionally fragile characters, and Rumble Fish captures that beautifully with surreal mood and deep emotion.

5. If you had to shoot a short film using only three props, what would they be?
A TV, a mirror, and a family portrait. The TV reflects society and distraction. The mirror speaks to identity and inner conflict. The family portrait holds memory, history, and unspoken tensions. With those three, you could tell an entire story about how we see ourselves, how others see us, and where we come from.

6. What’s your guilty pleasure movie or series you rewatch all the time?
Terminator 2: Judgment Day. It was the first film that truly introduced me to the power of cinema. My dad and I watched it so many times it became a ritual. Even now, it still hits hard—nostalgia aside, it’s just masterful storytelling, action, and emotion all in one. My first love.

7. Why are short films important in today’s media landscape?
Short films allow filmmakers to find and refine their voices. They offer a space to experiment without the pressure and risks of a full-length feature. It’s where bold ideas are born—and where filmmakers learn how to tell tight, impactful stories.

8. What advice would you give to someone making their first short?
Know exactly what story you want to tell—and why it matters to you. That clarity is everything. You don’t need a big budget; you need a bold idea and the honesty to follow through. If it’s meaningful to you, it will resonate with others.

9. What’s one question you wish interviewers asked—and how would you answer it?
I wish more people asked, “What’s it like making films in a Ugandan industry that’s still developing?” Because it’s hard. We face funding shortages, a lack of creative producers, and limited access to mentorship or training. Sometimes it feels like you’re building the industry while also trying to make films within it. But that struggle breeds innovation. It forces collaboration and resourcefulness—and pushes you to believe in your story enough to fight for it.

10. Why are festivals like the FAME Shorts Film Festival so important?
Festivals like FAME Shorts are vital. They provide a platform for emerging voices, celebrate the art of storytelling, and help connect filmmakers globally. These festivals prioritise impact and vision over box office numbers—and that’s where real cinema lives. They help build careers, communities, and lasting creative networks.