David Ikeata Talks Zurich Film Festival, Queer Storytelling, and Igbo Horror

David Ikeata Talks Zurich Film Festival, Queer Storytelling, and Igbo Horror31 October 2025 | By Gift Davies

Filmmaker David Ikeata discusses his journey, creative vision, and the bold Nigerian stories driving his upcoming films.

“Growing up, I watched the same mix of films most people around me did Nigerian home videos, Chinese action films, Hollywood blockbusters, and Indian movies,” David says. “I didn’t have any lightbulb moment or special story that drew me to filmmaking.”

It’s a modest start for someone whose name is quietly making its way through Nigeria’s growing independent film scene. David is a producer and filmmaker interested in how Nigerian stories are told not just in structure or style, but in how they hold up on a global scale.

Who is David Ikeata?

Based in Lagos, David has spent more than a decade working around Nigeria’s film industry. He has co-written and produced projects across continents, including The Last Rabbi (an Egyptian short), Adam Bol (a Kazakhstan-Nigeria collaboration), and The Abyss Within (a meditation on artistic depression).

He’s now developing several features, including Moondust, Hibiscus by the River, and an undisclosed Igbo horror epic set in the 1600s.

Earlier this year, David became the first Nigerian accepted into the Zurich Film Festival Academy a milestone he acknowledges with humility. Titles like “the first” don’t interest him; what matters is the exchange of ideas and the chance to grow within a global filmmaking community.

“We spoke with David about his time at the Zurich Film Festival Academy and some of the exciting projects he’s been building.”

How did your early experiences in Nigeria shape your approach to storytelling?

“That’s an interesting question. My early experiences in Nigeria have definitely shaped my creative voice, especially in how I approach telling Nigerian stories. There’s so much angst I carry about Nigeria and our culture things I can’t always express, process, or communicate directly and discovering storytelling became the space where I try to work through those feelings.

I’ve lost focus a little at times, but moving forward, I really hope to centre my work on exploring that tension the love and frustration I feel and to turn it into something meaningful through the stories I tell.”

What was the application process for the Zurich Film Academy like?

“I first heard about the Zurich Film Festival Academy program a few years ago when a contact of mine was selected to be part of it. After that, I started following what they were doing. The application process itself was quite easy and straightforward it was an open call available online, where people from all over the world could apply.”

You’re the first Nigerian producer at the Zurich Film Festival. What does that mean for you personally?

“I’m not really a fan of the phrase ‘the first.’ I understand why people use it, but I’m not too comfortable with that kind of framing. For me, being part of the Zurich Film Festival Academy was about gaining valuable insights and building meaningful connections, two of which I believe I made.

I don’t think my participation has any broader impact on Nigerian cinema, to be honest. We’re already in a space where incredible Nigerian talents are making strong strides and gaining global recognition. My experience was more of a personal milestone an opportunity to grow within that larger movement.”

When asked if he felt a sense of responsibility carrying that “first” title, David smiled. “It’s simply an experience I’m grateful for and really appreciate,” he said.

You’re quite media-shy. Does that come from a belief that art should speak for itself?

“[laughs] Absolutely, yes. But it’s not exactly about being media shy; it’s more that there’s a self-promotional aspect to media that I just haven’t caught up with and probably never will.”

The Last Rabbi and the Journey from Idea to Screen

The Last Rabbi, co-produced by David, had its world premiere at Cinemed on October 19. It follows a 60-year-old Egyptian man one of the last remaining Jews who is trying to care for his ailing wife while quietly fearing that when he dies, there will be no one left to perform his Jewish rites.

“I came on board during post-production,” David explains. “The director had already done the tough part of conceptualising the idea, assembling a team, and making the film under very difficult conditions. By the time I joined, they needed finishing funds, which I helped secure alongside a French sales representative.”

Hibiscus by the River: Love, Identity, and Freedom

One of David’s upcoming projects, Hibiscus by the River, is a cross-continental queer drama exploring love, freedom, and identity through a distinctly Nigerian lens.

“Hibiscus by the River explores themes of entrapment and freedom through the journey of a teenager who is outed in Nigeria and later undergoes a transformative chapter of his life abroad. The film centres on a traditional element that challenges his identity, and the story unfolds in a non-linear structure to reflect the emotional fragmentation of the protagonist.”

Queer stories in Nigeria often face silence or resistance. So, what part of that silence does David hope this film speaks to?

“Realistically, we are aware that this is a film that will never be publicly shown in Nigeria. So we aim to make a global story that speaks loudly enough and sparks curiosity in world cinema such that Nigerians feel compelled to seek it out and talk about it.”

David describes the film’s tone as both romantic and confrontational a balance that feels inevitable when telling a queer story in a society like ours. He hopes it sparks conversations about love, courage, and the cost of being true to oneself.

Inside the Igbo Horror Epic Set in the 1600s

David’s next project, an Igbo horror epic, carries that same spirit of cultural introspection.

“The film loosely explores the Igbo caste system and then moves into a more fantastical space. We took some creative and artistic license to imagine the mindset of a patriarchal family in the 1600s living in isolation and guided by beliefs that may feel extreme today, yet still echo how we cling to certain traditions and sometimes hurt ourselves because of them.”

What part of Igbo mythology or history does the story draw from, and why did that world feel right for horror?

“The story draws from parts of Igbo mythology that explore the link between the living and the spiritual world especially how spirits and ancestors interact with us. There’s something powerful and eerie about that belief system because it treats the spiritual world as very real and very close. That idea felt right for horror fear rooted in tradition and fanatical belief.”

He continues: “I also think horror is a great way to say something about society. Films like Rosemary’s Baby talk about control over women’s bodies. Get Out explores racism. Even The Substance looks at femininity and the fear of ageing. Horror has always carried a message beneath the fear and with this film, we want to do the same.”

The project’s ambition lies in its scope and intent, blending cultural identity, emotion, and striking visuals inspired by classic Japanese cinema to create a 1600s Igbo world that feels both personal and poetic.

On the Nigerian Film Infrastructure

“What we lack is a proper structure and support system that allows creatives and artists to create freely,” David notes. “Most industries around the world thrive through government support and funding structures not just private funding or equity but we don’t have that here, despite the number of films we churn out every year.

I’m under no delusion that this problem can be easily solved, because the Nigerian problem itself creeps into the Nigerian film industry problem.

So, most times, I just hope that if the larger issues in the country are addressed, it will reflect across other sectors not just film, but every industry so that everyone can truly thrive.”

In the end, for David, the goal isn’t just recognition.It’s about creating films that speak even in the silence they leave behind.