The Senegalese film Faat Kiné is an honest look at the fine line women have historically had to walk in society.

You can’t be too naïve, and you can’t be too frank.

I’m not sure how much things have changed for women around the world since the film was released, but by American standards, much of what Faat Kiné explores has become the norm.

The average American woman can stand on her own, pay her bills, and all that jazz.

The film celebrates women’s independence—or at least, I think it does.

That being said, let’s get it!

Twice an unwed mother, Faat Kiné is forced into the male-dominated world of business.

Despite the odds, she becomes a successful petrol station manager, to the extent that she has become the object of many men’s affections.

Well, except for the fact that she’s frank to the point of vulgarity.

Now that her children are successful in their chosen paths, they decide it is their mission to find their mother a suitable lover before they scurry off into their own lives.

First, many traditional societies are not exactly known for being kind to women, so it wasn’t a stretch to believe Faat’s father would openly shame her or even disinherit her.

But trial by fire?

That caught me off guard.

Then I thought about it.

And yeah, that kind of thing has happened throughout history.

Had Faat been burned instead of her mother, she probably would’ve gotten off easy compared to some women who died for less.

Still, it was shocking.

I also found it curious that her children called her by her first name without any repercussions.

Of course, one could argue that Faat is not a conventional African mother, but it was still a little jarring.

As an African who grew up in the United States, I don’t think I would’ve survived with the mindset I have today had I been raised back home.

There were a lot of things I got away with by virtue of growing up in America that would’ve earned me a serious beating elsewhere.

For example, talking back to elders.

Not only would my parents have handled the situation, but the community would’ve made it their business to put me in my place.

Further, there was a visceral instinct to drop-kick the nonsense out of Aby whenever she talked back to her mother.

Even though, if I’m being honest, I’ve been guilty of the same behavior myself.

Thankfully, times have changed, and I’m not that person anymore.

I think.

But that vein of disrespect runs deep throughout the film.

At times, it genuinely made me fear for Faat’s safety.

Though sometimes deserved, she also disrespects people simply because she has money.

Still, I can’t blame her too much.

You can’t be too nice or people will take advantage of you.

Other than the fact that she’s essentially a homewrecker and nearly killed an asthmatic woman over her worthless husband, I think she’s pretty okay.

Lol.

Faat’s honesty, though not entirely my cup of chai, is refreshing.

She knows what she wants and doesn’t sugarcoat anything.

My main concern, however, is this:

Why couldn’t her family just leave her alone?

Why must she be in a relationship?

She owns her home.

She has a career.

Her children are successful.

Why is everyone acting like she’s incomplete?

Also, was I the only one who thought Aby and Djib were a little too close for siblings?

Anypoops, I give Faat Kiné 4 out of 5 rose petals.