Nigerian-born, British American actress Sope Aluko has finally taken her place behind the lens with the debut of her short film, Chidera. Known to audiences for, among other roles, playing Shaman in Marvel’s globe-shifting Black Panther franchise, Aluko is sharing the short, which premiered during last year’s African International Film Festival. Chidera will now come to a larger audience during Black History Month in the U.S., as it plays at the upcoming Pan African Film Festival (PAFF) and New Filmmakers Los Angeles (NFMLA), and is added to inflight entertainment on American Airlines flights around the world.

Aluko, a Miami-based filmmaker, launched her company SopeBox Productions in 2020 – a play on the many ways in which people have mispronounced her name, Sope, over the years – to create the kinds of stories that reflected her and her life experiences. “I’m so excited about being able to write my own stories and not feel that I have to wait on Hollywood to write my character,” Aluko told OkayAfrica in an interview.

Her work as a producer on Chidera, which she co-directed, came from divine favor as the actress says, at first, she couldn’t find a producer: “And then, God told me that I was the producer, and that’s how the story was born.” Through the film’s title character, Aluko gives viewers an intimate look into an often hidden aspect of Nigerian culture and spiritualism.

In Yoruba culture, when a child is born with locked, naturally matted hair they are referred to as Dada. The term is used in the same way that we refer to hair that is dreadlocked; however, being a Dada child is not by choice and comes with otherworldly benefits. Dada children are considered to be sacred, unique, and to possess spiritual powers, like healing, intelligence, physical strength, and clairvoyance. They are thought to be gifts from the Orisa, as the knots in their hair are likened to cowrie shells, which are used as currency.

The story behind Chidera is a personal one, as Aluko’s own sister was born with Dada hair, and she watched her own family grapple with the decision to honor their cultural heritage versus religious beliefs. “One of the stipulations when children are born with Dada hair is that before you cut their hair from a baby to a toddler, you need to go through a traditional ceremony. My parents, who are staunch Christians, just cut her hair,” Aluko says.

In the aftermath, Aluko’s younger sister experienced inexplicable ailments. “I looked back at old albums and looked at her photos like, ‘Oh, isn't that funny? She has a mohawk.’ It wasn't until years later that I found out it was because she was having brain shock therapy,” Aluko recalls. Aluko’s mother turned to her own mother for support and, upon taking the star’s younger sister through the proper ceremony, all signs of sickness disappeared. “My sister is 50 now and has never had a problem since then,” Aluko adds.

While her experience of Dada hair is through the lens of Nigerian culture, Aluko has found that to be bigger than West Africa. “The conversations I’ve had at film festivals, people that came in touch with this film had their own personal stories about Dada hair. Some were Jamaican, Rastafarian or African American – they all had their own stories and intrigue like, 'I always knew I was special,' or 'I knew my child had something,'" she says.

The conversation around culture further extends, as the issue of how Africans exist within the diaspora is also highlighted by the film. The character of Chidera, played by American actress Courtney Gabrielle Williams, comes from a long line of “seers,” those who have visions about things to come. But Chidera has yet to have her powers kick in at the age of 17.

Her name translates to “What God has destined” in Igbo, and she is a direct descendant of the Goddess Atai – a powerful lineage of women from the Ani tribe in West Africa. Her mother, Mma, played by Aluko herself, is a powerful seer who encourages the teen to stay her course and have faith. The desire to fit in almost overwhelms Chidera, as her hair makes her stand out. Chidera is faced with bullying from her American classmates who refer to her as “Chi-diarrhea” and harp on their nonacceptance of her and her hair. Ultimately, Chidera is faced with the choice to crumble to the wills and whims of those who don’t understand her, or to step into her own power and beauty.

This, too, speaks to Aluko’s personal experience being an African living in the diaspora who existed differently from those around her, including the people who looked like her. “I grew up in England and was bullied severely in boarding school for my hair and skin. As I tell my African American friends right now, there was a time that we weren’t cool to be African. We were called “African booty scratchers' and told that we eat funny, walk funny, and dress funny,” she says.

Through Chidera, Aluko was able to channel the inner confidence that we all could have used when faced with maltreatment for the ways our hair grew naturally. “She felt the higher calling with her hair, but she also wanted to be a normal, everyday teenager," she says. “It’s a juxtaposition between trying to saddle the two worlds, which is what we do every day as Black people, period.” Positioning the bullies as African American was intentional, as Aluko hopes to trigger a conversation around how our perceived differences are actually aspects that unite us in the end. “It’s a way to embrace our culture – more of a communal thing versus separatist,” Aluko adds.

It was her time on the set of Black Panther that Aluko found the courage to make her own dreams a reality. “I always procrastinated becoming a filmmaker. When I worked on Wakanda Forever, I worked very closely with Michaela Coel, the creator of the TV show I May Destroy You. I asked her how she did it and her only advice was to just do it. Just jump right in.”

Though Aluko is hopeful about how the global stage has gained a keen interest in African narratives, she believes that we are not yet near any sort of finish line. “I think we’re still a work in progress,” she says. “Every day I look at stuff that’s out there, and I think we take 10 steps forward and then 20 steps back. I don’t think we need Hollywood, we just need to rise above that and find our own distribution channels – that’s what’s limiting us.” Her work on this short film and the conversations garnered around it have inspired Aluko to consider creating a documentary around Dada hair and the many ways in which the term manifests itself across the diaspora. “I don’t know where God is taking me, but I’m ready,” she says.