The documentary How to Build a Library is not merely a film about renovating a building; it’s a profound cinematic exploration of decolonizing a public space and reclaiming a nation’s narrative.
The film begins with the imposing, colonial-era façade of the Macmillan Library, a Nairobi landmark that, for generations, has stood as a familiar, yet largely untouchable, institution. It sets the stage for the enormous task undertaken by Wanjiru “Shiro” Koinange and Angela Wachuka, the co-founders of Book Bunk, who commit to a five-year agreement to refurbish the library and several suburban branches under the regime of Governor Mike Sonko.
The initial discovery by Book Bunk is shocking: the library is not just in bad shape structurally, but its contents reflect its colonial origins. Most of the books are geared towards a white, specifically European, audience. This fact immediately establishes the film’s central, powerful conflict: the physical decay is inseparable from the ideological rot. The refurbishment, then, is a project of historical rectification.
The filmmakers effectively underscore this point by interspersing the narrative with vintage film footage of colonial Kenya: white people enjoying the space while Black Kenyans watch from a distance. This technique visually links the library’s physical state to its intended, exclusionary past. However, the later, more jarring shift to a screening about the Mau Mau women detainees, while thematically vital to the decolonization argument, could have been integrated more smoothly, perhaps directly stemming from a discovery within the library’s own archives.
How Maia & King captured 8 years of Book Bunk reclaiming history in ‘How To Build A Library’
The film excels at humanizing the immense effort required, giving us personal insight into the lives of Wanjiru and Angela. Their focus as the main protagonists highlights the personal sacrifice and tenacity necessary to drive public change. The initial meeting with the existing library staff is particularly compelling, capturing the palpable tension and the quiet, almost wordless, hope of a team that finally sees action after years of neglect.
However, the film, in its attempt to elevate the founders, inadvertently sidelines the crucial voices of institutional memory. We see very little of the other Book Bunk team members and the long-serving county librarians. While the chief librarian’s backstory provides important context on the state of things, the film misses an opportunity to offer a richer, more complex view of the renovation process by not exploring the librarians’ perspectives on the dramatic changes, or the ongoing tension surrounding the contract extension negotiations. This omission leaves the audience with only a partially complete picture of the journey.
The difficulty of dealing with government bureaucracy, from political protocol during a launch to the “push and pull” required to change entrenched systems, is a global phenomenon the film skillfully captures. The climax of this struggle is the dramatic tension over Book Bunk’s request to extend their contract to 20 years, an essential timeframe for sustained impact, yet one that drags through the government machinery.
In celebrating the support that made the project possible, the film showcases individuals like Nairobi County Minister Janet Ouko and the steadfast chief librarian. Yet, a critical piece of context is missing: the film highlights that she supported the vision, but not why. In a story about public service reform, the political calculation and personal conviction of key government allies remain unexplored, leaving the viewer without a full understanding of how genuine change breaks through the bureaucracy.
The film’s standout achievement is showcasing the library’s transformation from a decaying archive into a vibrant, multi-functional cultural hub. Seeing sections many Nairobians never knew existed, like the kids’ area, and witnessing the space being used for a book festival and recording Kenyan history, offers tangible proof of success. The library’s new purpose is its active use by the community, not just its shelves.
This is beautifully illustrated by the poignant moment involving Governor Johnson Sakaja’s visit (a famous moment where he plays with the orchestra). The film reveals Book Bunk’s success in uncovering an article about the Governor’s late mother within the library’s silos. This not only humanizes the new administration but proves Book Bunk’s central thesis: the true treasure of Macmillan is the archival material that helps Kenyans reclaim their personal and national narratives.
The documentary is a powerful and necessary archive of resilience and women’s leadership. It ends by connecting the struggle for the library to the 2024 protests, underscoring the vital, enduring importance of public spaces in national life. By the credits, the viewer is absolutely a friend of Book Bunk, wanting to support their continued, essential work.
The compelling narrative of the Book Bunk project and the revitalization of the Macmillan Library was captured through the lens of filmmakers Maia Lekow and Christopher King.