Kethiwe ngobo Interview Sheffield Docfest

Kethiwe Ngobo’s And She Didn’t Die uncovers the radical journey of her mother Lauretta Nogobo from South African revolutionary to exile, who spoke of liberation through her transformative and feminist storytelling, to the cost of activism. Raising her children in rural South Africa and then becoming a headmistress in the UK, Lauretta's powerful works are told through incredible archive footage interwoven with her own words. 

TNBFC spoke to Ngobo about the importance of documenting life, reflecting on family, loss of self within exile, and knowing freedom.

TNBFC: Congratulations on your world premiere at Sheffield DocFest. How was it to have your film viewed in that space?

Kethiwe Ngobo: It was really exciting watching people watching your film—but yes, nerve-racking and exciting. So, it was both.

TNBFC: Did it feel different seeing it with the crowd? Did you have any expectations?

KN: It did. It was the biggest I’ve seen it, so it felt very different. Seeing it on the big screen felt like there was a shift in how it worked. But I’m still processing that, the size of the screen, the pacing, because of the scale. People really connected with the story, and especially with my mother’s journey and who she was.

TNBFC: It was amazing to watch the film. It felt like the perfect way to learn about your mother, to understand who she was as a writer, to know more about you, and to see the beautiful use of archival footage. How did it all begin for you? When did you start this process?

KN: It’s the kind of film you’ve always wanted to make, and always needed to make. I started a long time ago, in fact, when I was making the film I ended up making instead, Belonging, that film turned out to be about me but I had really intended to make that film with my mother, which was back in 2004, so it’s been a long journey, a long time in the making.

I properly started making it in 2019, that was when I raised funding, got the money, and began production. I also changed the approach. Originally, it had much more emphasis on my son as a storyteller, as the next generation but that didn’t quite work, so we changed it. Then I found footage I thought I’d lost of my mother and me in 2004. That made a real difference to the film and the way the story unfolded.

TNBFC: So, was it that footage which transformed the film from being solely about your mother to more about your mother-daughter relationship?

KN: It was always supposed to be about her, and I still think it is. But that footage made a difference in showing our relationship on screen. You do find out a lot about me, but it's really through her lens.

TNBFC: Did making the film through her lens cause you to see yourself differently? Did you reflect more deeply on your relationship with her, who she was, and how she reflected on your sister and your family?

KN: I was always certain she had a profound life and a massive impact beyond what she’s recognised for. I’m not sure the footage changed that dynamic, but what it did was reveal other things between us, reveal moments in a relationship. 

TNBFC: Was there a particular piece of work your mother did—something she wrote or said—that really stood out and inspired you?

KN: As a child of exile, growing up in England, I didn’t really think much of my ‘exileness’. It didn’t seem worth discussing I was just another kid in England. But when I went back to South Africa, I realised how outside of myself I was. My peers thought I was strange, being from England, and they weren’t all that interested in what our lives had been like, or why I turned out the way I did.

So, that became something I’ve always wanted to interrogate. As a Black British person, there’s often that feeling of being inside but also outside. That’s how I felt, not necessarily about being in exile, but about being Black British. And then when I went to South Africa, I felt that sense of exile too. In but not really in.

That became something of a mantra in my head. And in terms of my mother, the way she made her life work was always being in charge of her own life, no matter what she did, she was always the cataclysmic event that made things happen. Whether it was being a courier, helping my father in exile, or writing, she was somebody who really immersed herself fully. Because she did things, and sometimes in life we wait to do things, we wait for permission. She never sought permission; she did things, which was brilliant, because as Black people, we were taught not to value our own sense of self in a way. We’re taught we need to wait and be given permission in many instances, not all. But my mother wasn’t like that. 

TNBFC: What really stood out to me was when she spoke about exile not just as a geographical or political state, but as a loss of self, a vacuum. And it’s interesting that going back to the place you were exiled from might have caused that loss of self for you. Did you have to reconcile with that?

KN: Yes, that’s part of my journey. When I made Belonging, it was very much about me, and this film still touches on those themes because the footage often asked those questions. But ultimately, it’s about our relationship and how we connect. It was just like having my mum in the room. She was impatient at moments, thoughtful in moments, and really kind in moments. I kind of just brought my mum to life.

TNBFC: Did that have a big impact on how you shaped the film? Did you have a say in the rhythm of it? It felt very poetic at times, you could really feel the energy.

KN: What I think it was, is the energy was much more my energy. It moves quite fast, and so that was interesting that it moved as fast as it did. But that’s my energy; her own words which drove the film. She spoke for herself a lot of the time. We didn't have a mediating force speaking for her. 

TNBFC: One thing I’ve discussed recently with people is the importance of archive and heritage footage, what it means for families and how we preserve and retell our histories. Especially for Black families, there’s a need to reframe how we view our own history and recorded memory. What are your thoughts on that?

KN: This film is about 70% archive, so archive and memory were critical to its formation. The parts of the film with my mother and our relationship are very precious. I’d encourage everyone to record their parents and keep a personal archive.

In terms of national archives, the story of South Africa and, in some ways, Britain, I thought it was important to include that too. Because she wasn’t just a writer, she was a political writer. She wrote from a very clear political stance. That context, from the archive, was crucial.

I’m not sure I’ll ever make an archive film again though it was really hard. Getting the archive cleared, ensuring the footage was the right quality, that was a huge challenge. Choosing the material was fine, but making it work on the big screen, that was tough.

TNBFC: And it all still worked beautifully! You wouldn’t have guessed the struggle behind the scenes. One last point I wanted to ask about is when you were behind the camera, and in a few moments you broke the fourth wall. Like when you asked your brother if your parents loved each other, and he said they respected each other and you laughed and said ‘“That’s not the story I’m building.” Did you face challenges with the narrative of what you’d seen in your family history?

KN: I really wanted my mother to be this feminist superhero, but also that she wasn’t just a woman caught between worlds. She loved to cook for my father. She made sure he ate. She was traditional in that sense. So I felt it was something I needed to say, because it’s a contradiction. She was seen as a staunch feminist, yet did things that might seem anti-feminist. So it didn’t fit my narrative, but it was who she was.

TNBFC: I think it’s incredibly important to give space for both.

KN: Yes, and she always did. In footage we didn’t use, there’s something quite tragic is she was a great cook and used to cook a lot. But when my father passed away, she stopped cooking in that dynamic way. She loved to cook for him, it was something she offered him as a partner.  

TNBFC: If archive work is off the table for now, what’s next and what would you say to inspire those who may want to work within archive or create their own films. 

KN: I’ve been working in documentaries for my last 3 films, but I also work a lot in fiction, mainly as a producer but fiction is so hard to fundraise for, it takes years. 

What I think is really important as Black people, our history hasn’t always been well documented. We need to really start documenting our relationships, our histories, and our sense of self. I would really encourage people to do that, making this film I felt that;s something I’m glad I’ve done in my life. 

It’s really important for us to document ourselves, our lives and as evidence of where we are at any one place because in the future, that will be history. We need to make archives more accessible rather than outside our reach which traditionally it has been. 

TNBFC: Thank you so much for this incredible conversation. Just one final question: do you still feel a sense of exile?

KN: I certainly don’t feel like I belong in any one place. That’s what I’d say. I’ve lived in South Africa for 30 years, Britain for 25, and some time in Zambia. I think in the UK, we belong because we insist we belong—but really, we belong because we are loved.

TNBFC: Has that given you more freedom?

KN: I accept that my sense of belonging is rooted in myself.

And She Didn’t Die premiered at the Sheffield Documentary Film Festival and is expected to be released later this year.