The clock rules the world these days, and it has subjugated our lives: faster, faster, faster... Speed reading courses, speed writing courses - everywhere, speed has become of great importance. And every day, we're trying to do even more in one minute than yesterday, simplifying the daily routine as much as possible. Instead of writing a comment, you can like a post. Instead of replying to a comment, you can now like a comment. We're trying to express our opinion in 140 characters - we don't have time for long reads. And behind all this race that determines the rhythm of our lives, we cannot even imagine that somewhere time and space are perceived completely differently.
Makala opens a window to another universe, where all that a person has is his body: hands that can hold an ax and legs that can overcome kilometers step by step. And this body contains extraordinaire willpower and a thirst for life. Incredible shots of nature, sandy roads, sunrises, and sunsets create an amazing atmosphere that can change our understanding of a human: to remember everything that is hidden inside us, that we have forgotten and simplified as unnecessary thanks to modern technologies. This beautiful and unhurried film reminds us that the perception of time can be different. It sobers us up, reproaching us for forgetting the true value of things. Makala means "coal" in Swahili. But I wouldn't be surprised if the translation sounded like "patience." In any case, it takes an incredible amount of patience to make the charcoal, which is the protagonist's livelihood. Patience, which with the advent of civilization, we have long lost. We are too accustomed to getting everything at once: service 24 hours a day and seven days a week, home delivery, one hundred million applications for all occasions - from ordering a taxi to translating a text. And somewhere, a person like us gets up at dawn, takes an ax, and goes to chop a tree down. One day, two days. One week, two weeks. "An electric saw would probably have done it in less than an hour," runs through my mind. And then this man walks. Day, night, day, night. Cars and motorcycles are passing by. And he walks. And they are passing by. "But you would have gotten there in less than an hour if you were sitting in the car," I hear an anxious voice in my head. But he keeps walking. And you walk with him. And every minute, you get more imbued with respect for him, in whom, perhaps, there is more human than in many of us. To a man whose living conditions might cause quite a shock for a lot of people, yet who is nevertheless devoid of even a drop of anger or aggression, who is addressing every stranger as "brother" or "sister." And you wish that everything would work out for him and that the God to whom he prays would hear him because he asks for so little.
Makala reminds us once again that our world is a world of contrasts. It's a very poetic story about a man and the power hidden in him. If you think that documentaries are not for you, then this is the film that might change your views on this genre. So, if you get a chance, check it out - it's worth it.
