Sundance 2025: How to Build a Library (dirs. Maia Lekow & Christopher King) | Review
Since 1931, Nairobi’s McMillan Library has stood as a symbol of British colonial heritage—a bastion of Western culture that remained off-limits to Black Kenyans until 1958. Fifty years after Kenya’s independence, two charismatic female entrepreneurs take on the challenge of restoring this long-abandoned institution. Shiro, a writer, and Wachuka, an editor, emerge as relentless figures of commitment and determination. The film How to Build a Library, directed by the husband-and-wife duo Maia Lekow and Christopher King, chronicles their eight-year battle, capturing the immense scale of the undertaking: beyond mere renovation, their mission is to reclaim the central role of African literature and reading culture within Kenyan society.
From high-profile fundraising galas to the meticulous cataloging of books in the neglected library, the film methodically charts the bureaucratic and political hurdles that obstruct their progress—perhaps a little too systematically. The labyrinthine Kenyan bureaucracy becomes a relentless obstacle, delaying the renewal of their management mandate, upon which much of their funding depends. The film astutely underscores how political support fluctuates with electoral cycles and shifting power dynamics, jeopardizing the sustainability of the project. Even within the library itself, tensions arise with the existing staff, who view the pair’s disruptive methods with skepticism. The classification of books becomes a flashpoint, as the incumbents critique what they perceive as a lack of rigor. In a handful of scenes masterfully captured by the filmmakers, Shiro and Wachuka’s infectious enthusiasm contrasts sharply with the muted, wary reactions of their interlocutors.

Where the film is at its most compelling is in its exploration of cultural decolonization. Archival footage lays bare the cultural subjugation imposed by the British Empire, and the library’s revival takes on a striking political dimension: reclaiming a site that was once an instrument of oppression and transforming it into a hub for African authors and knowledge-sharing. Yet, this decolonization remains paradoxical. While deeply committed, Shiro and Wachuka—who consult community members about the future of the three libraries under their mandate—ultimately operate within a social sphere far removed from the people who stand to benefit most. Their ability to secure funding, often from international sources (including the UAE), raises the question: can cultural reappropriation be fully authentic when spearheaded by an elite detached from grassroots struggles?
This disconnect becomes even more evident in the film’s final act. The slow-motion, music-driven sequence capturing King Charles and Queen Camilla’s visit is both a validation of their work and a stark reminder of the former colonial power’s continued presence. Ever pragmatic, Shiro and Wachuka acknowledge this contradiction. Meanwhile, a striking epilogue unfolds: Kenyans take to the streets, protesting against their government. The film, which has kept its lens tightly focused on these two determined women as symbols of Kenya’s renewal, suddenly reveals a broader reality—one of a nation rife with political and social unrest.
The immersion offered by the film provides an insightful glimpse into contemporary Kenya, but its perspective remains tethered to the upper echelons of society. The film, knowingly or not, prioritizes Shiro and Wachuka’s pursuit of institutional validation and elite networking over direct engagement with the libraries’ future users. This may well be a practical choice, as funding prospects lie in these circles. However, How to Build a Library ultimately feels more like the chronicle of an entrepreneurial venture than that of a purely altruistic initiative for the wider population.
Nevertheless, How to Build a Library remains a captivating and uplifting film, reinforcing the idea that building a library is tantamount to building a future. But while its ambition and achievements are undeniable, the film leaves certain social dynamics unexplored. If decolonization is to be achieved through cultural reappropriation, it must also be inclusive—truly engaging those who bear the daily weight of its consequences. This may well be the case in reality, but the film only offers flickers of this perspective.
The Film Fest Report team is an accredited media at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. Expect substantial coverage from Park City, Utah, as the festival unfolds from January 23 to February 2, 2025.



