I did not set out to make just a film about human-wildlife conflict. I set out to unravel a profound cultural paradox.

This film is an exploration of memory. It is about the space between an ancient, sacred belief and the modern, brutal reality of survival. The Bakweri’s identity is inextricably linked to the elephant; it is their living totem. But when that totem tramples your cassava farm—your family’s only source of food and income—what happens to that bond? Does tradition shatter, or does it find a new, more resilient form?

My approach is to immerse the audience completely. We will not just observe from a distance. We will feel the damp earth underfoot, hear the crack of a branch as the elephants moves through the dense jungle, and feel the resonant beat of the Maalé drums during the sacred dance. We will frame this story with the scale and grandeur of a epic drama, because that is what it is. The elephants are not subjects; they are characters with agency.

But this is also a deeply human story. Through the village  elders we witness the heartbreak of a fractured faith.

As a Cameroonian filmmaker, I feel a tremendous responsibility to tell this story with authenticity, respect, and nuance. This is not an outsider’s gaze on an “exotic” problem. It is an intimate portrait from within, a conversation we are hosting for our nation and the world. It is a plea for understanding, not just of the elephants, but of the people caught between reverence and ruin.

My hope is that “Living Totem” will do more than just win awards or find a global audience. I hope it becomes a tool for the Bakweri people themselves—a mirror to see their own struggle and a catalyst for community-led solutions, like ecotourism, that allow both humans and their totem kin to not just survive, but to thrive, together.