BEN’IMANA (Cannes 2026) – Review by Diane Carson
Ben’Imana examines reconciliation and healing in 2012 Rwanda
In Ben’Imana, Rwandan writer/director Marié-Clémentine Dusabejambo integrates the personal with the political to gain specificity for a collective trauma. The title Ben’Imana means “the children of God,” signifying that the Hutus and Tutsis shared their language and culture, a paired community until the tragic 1994 Tutsi genocide at the hands of the Hutu militia massacre. Now, in 2012, reconciliation proceeds through public trials. With hopes that forgiveness will help heal the legacy of the massacre of up to a million people, Vénéranda (Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi) faces critical decisions. Throughout her encounters, Vénéranda’s commitment to peace and progress will be challenged by some fellow citizens’ desire for revenge. Extended dialogue exchanges in a handful of confrontational, dynamic scenes bares victims’ deep wounds as well as the difficult acknowledgement by violent perpetrators. Further complicating Vénéranda’s determination to rebuild and move forward constructively, her daughter Tina (Kesia Kelly Nishimwe) denies her unexpected pregnancy. Richard (Elvis Ngabo), the young man Tina professes to love, is identifiably a modern young man in appearance and, it is suggested, of Hutu origins. The extent of Vénéranda’s acceptance and openness will be directly tested.
Setting the scene for all this, in the opening, breathtaking minutes of the film, Vénéranda stoically stands before the outdoor court pronouncing forgiveness for Karangwa (Aime Valens Tuyisenge) over the objections stridently announced by her sister Suzanne (Isabelle Kabano). Harboring considerable anger over the judges’ release of Karangwa, Suzanne argues that Vénéranda “has no right to forgive on behalf of our family,” for Karangwa murdered her three-month old baby and husband and participated in her rape. Resentment over reconciliation is also explicitly addressed later in the film in a church session coordinated and moderated by Vénéranda. In these assemblies centered on the women who survived the 1994 massacre, profoundly painful incidents are reported and respected, some in anticipation of later public testimony, some to help recuperate in a more supportive environment.
In an important subplot that depicts the emerging generation, Vénéranda and Tina talk but disagree. Complicating their relationship, Vénéranda hopes for Tina to attend university. That goal is further compromised because authorized legal documents do not list Tina’s father, a haunting and elusive presence. Not supplying his names all but ensures rejection by the regulatory board, another of those bureaucratic decrees. For her part, Tina wants to marry and delay her formal education, an unacceptable choice to Vénéranda.
Visually enhancing the environment and seamlessly weaving all this together cinematographer Mostafa Kashef alternates wide shots with close ups, a still camera inviting careful scrutiny of the fine performances by mostly unprofessional (and excellent) actors. The intimacy of the scenes effects viewer involvement and identification with the emotional distress. In press notes, Dusabejambo says she felt torn between a documentary or fictionalized presentation, ‘searching for the most judicious form to broach this subject . . . where the plurality of stories would lie at its heart.” Set in Rwanda, the relevance is paramount. In so many of today’s tragedies, the struggle to forgive and heal, the importance of the resilience on display by the Rwandans, resonates. Again in Dusabejambo’s wise words, “Trauma is something collective, striving for peace remains an individual odyssey. But addressing trauma requires collective work and dialogue . . . forgiveness is a pathway.” Ben’Imana shows and travels that path. The first Rwandan feature in competition in the Cannes Film Festival, Ben’Imana screened in the 2026 Un Certain Regard section.
