“I’m thinking of ending things. Once this thought arrives, it stays. It sticks, it lingers, it dominates. There’s not much I can do about it, trust me. It doesn’t go away.” — Lucy (Jessie Buckley), I’m Thinking of Ending Things
The quote above succinctly captures the restlessness of depression and suicidal thoughts, which are the themes of Uchenna Ugwu’s short, timely, and intriguing film, I Too, Crave Death.
Though the thought of death is often seen as taboo and only whispered about in conversation, this film screams it out loud and argues vigorously for it, allowing us to understand why some people crave death and why they need a solid support system to stay alive.
Stranded after a condolence visit following Kaodili’s death from suicide, Chieloka (Amanda Ugoh) and her mother (Tessy Brown) find themselves stuck in a faulty car by the roadside and locked in a simmering disagreement about suicide, depression, and grief.
Coming from a very traditional place, Chieloka’s mother condemns Kaodili’s actions as selfish and inconsiderate. And when Chieloka explains to her mother that Kaodili was depressed and had nobody to talk to, she yells and tells her to “stop justifying evil.”
Chieloka, who has been nurturing suicidal thoughts, considers her mother’s comments as insensitive, frowning at her for not understanding what it feels like to be depressed. Feeling disrespected, her mother tries to shut her up, telling her that she provides everything she and her brother need. But Chieloka refuses to shut up. In a moment of cruel frustration, she angrily reveals to her mother that she and Kaodili are members of a WhatsApp group of friends who share similar mental health challenges, and together they all plan to take their own lives. The revelation further irritates her mother, who considers it a threat. She implores Chieloka to go ahead with it, after telling her how ungrateful she is.
The argument between Chieloka and her mother reveals the ideological differences about mental health issues like depression and suicide in Nigeria.
Many Nigerian youths increasingly view grief and depression through a mental health lens, embracing therapy despite lingering stigma. The older generations, however, are still clinging to the ancient idea of stoicism, often framing depression and suicidal thoughts as a spiritual affliction or “thinking too much”.
This generational divide stems from cultural shifts. The youth, influenced by global awareness and social media, are vocal and seek professional help like counselling, perceiving it as empowerment amid economic and social pressures. Older generations, shaped by traditional norms, prioritise prayers and clergy advice, viewing therapy suspiciously as a sign of weakness or foreign practices.
The film is mainly set in a broken-down car, depicting the immobility of thoughts and a clampdown on reasoning caused by depression and suicidal thoughts. When Chieloka runs out of the car to seek help, she is saved by another motorist. By then, Chieloka and her mother are united in grief. And her mother, with a renewed mindset about depression and suicide, agrees to offer Chieloka all the support she needs.
Aside from its focus on the persistent pull of depression and suicidal thoughts, the film also shows how younger people battling depression and other mental health challenges seek support through social media like WhatsApp, Telegram, or Facebook to help themselves heal. While occasionally helpful, these groups often devolve into corrosive and illogical spots for peer pressure, where suicidal tendencies are encouraged and reinforced.
The acting is impressive for a two-hander set almost entirely inside an immobile car. The performers rely on voice, tension, and subtle facial expressions to hold the film together. As their argument heats up, however, the actors’ performances tip into exaggeration, making some moments feel louder than they need to be. Despite that, the closing act brings the performances back to a controlled and affecting place, giving the film a satisfying emotional release.
The film’s language is predominantly Igbo but subtitled in English. The language choice is, perhaps, to enable accessibility for the older generation and to educate them about depression and the importance of a support group for those battling suicidal feelings. It also protects the story’s honesty, especially when the topic is something families usually shy away from.
I Too, Crave Death is a small film with that asks big questions. It reaches into the silence that surrounds suicide, asking why it’s often misunderstood, and why help, if it comes at all, often arrives too late. It shows a mother and daughter who both want to be understood but speak different emotional languages. It reminds us that many people who say they are fine are carefully hiding their exhaustion, and would need our support to stay alive.
I Too, Crave Death is streaming on YouTube.
***Michael Kolawole is a screenwriter, playwright, poet and cultural journalist/critic. Catch him on X @mykflow
