Somali-Canadian writer-director K’naan Warsame has already shown that he can move people through music. Songs such as the hits “Wavin’ Flag” and “ABC’s (ft. Chubb Rock)” are ear worms that have yet to burrow their why out of the mind all these years later. Warsame makes it clear in his debut feature film Mother Mother that he is more than capable of telling moving stories on the big screen as well.

One of the pleasant surprises of the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, Mother Mother offers a riveting and intimate portrait of motherhood, grief, and forgiveness.

Warsame’s film opens with widowed Qalifo (Maan Youssouf Ahmed) and her son Asad (Elmi Rashid Elmi) getting up before the sun to tend to the daily responsibilities that comes with raising camels. Alone since the passing of her husband, whose had criminal ties and a reputation for being far more ruthless than her sensitive son, the pair have managed to build a quiet life for themselves. While Asad dreams of opening a restaurant one day, his ambitions are derailed when he learns that the girl he is dating has been seen around town with an American, Liban (Hassan Najib).

While the audience never sees the confrontation between the two men, it’s clear it turned violent as Asad’s is killed during the altercation. This ultimately puts the grieving mother in a tough position as custom dictates that she is entitled to some form of compensation for her loss. However, rather than accept money, land, or even Liban’s death, which others seem eager to oblige with, she makes the bold decision to adopt the young American. Liban will live with her and take over her son’s chores.

Needless to say, her decision shocks many, including Liban’s mother Kadro (Ubah Egal) in America, who reaches out to the government for help, as such a thing has never occurred before in the region. While it is easy to figure out how the narrative will unfold from there, what is surprising about the film is depth that Warsame pulls out of the story.

Warsame has no interest in big showy speeches or moral handwringing. Instead, he focuses on the smaller details that make human connections and motherhood so complex and enriching. It’s clear that there is a fire within Qalifo that would love nothing more than revenge, but at what cost? She would essentially be adding a whole new row of bricks to the tower of sadness. Furthermore, how much of the rage she is feeling was burning inside her son?

In exploring Qalifo’s inner reflections about her choices as a mother, while simultaneously training Liban, who can understand but not speak the language, the trades of the culture, Warsame constructs a moving examination of the difficult path towards healing. Much like Qalifo’s reluctant camel who refuses to give milk while mourning the loss of her calf, she to must navigate emotional gashes to great to simply put a band aid over.

Couple the emotional beats with some vibrant cinematography by César Charlone, which captures Qalifo’s sense of isolation with rich poetic beauty, and you have a film that resonates without ever feeling contrived. It helps that Warsame gets to anchor his film on the excellent performance by Maan Youssouf Ahmed. Tasked with shouldering the character’s heavy grief and austerity, while also injecting moments of levity, Youssouf Ahmed is clearly a star in the making. Bringing rich layers to the role, she ensures that one is always aware of why Qalifo makes the choices she does. After all she is a mother, and a mother’s bond with their child will never fully be severed by the blade of death.

One of the year’s hidden gems, Mother Mother finds strength and healing through the power of acceptance.

Mother Mother screened at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. Get more That Shelf TIFF coverage here