Mahdi Ahmed

Scripting waves of imagination from the sunny side of the Maldives.

Posts tagged ‘Yuktha’

YASHFA: ADAPTING HER AWARD-WINNING STORY INTO KAN’BULO

In 2009, a quiet storm passed through Maldivian literature. It came in the form of a long story titled Yuktha, penned with grace and conviction by Yashfa Abdul Qani. The piece went on to win first place at the National Long Story Competition — and rightfully so. It wasn’t just a work of fiction; it was a reflection of buried truths, crafted with emotional intelligence and a deep understanding of the unspoken.

When I was handed this story to adapt, I knew immediately that it demanded more than a simple retelling. It asked for care. It asked for bravery. And it asked for honesty.

Adapting a long story into a screenplay is never just about converting prose into scenes. It’s about translation — not of language, but of essence. What works powerfully on the page, nestled between narration and inner monologue, must now live and breathe through images, dialogue, silences, and performance. You’re not just recreating the story — you’re restructuring it so it thrives in a visual and temporal medium.

And with Kan’bulo, the weight of that responsibility was greater than usual. The story had resonance. It had urgency. But most of all, it had a protagonist who demanded her truth be told — not sensationalized, not softened — but told with authenticity.

I approached the adaptation process not as someone trying to rework a text, but as someone trying to protect it. To preserve the emotional heartbeat of Yashfa’s writing while allowing the film version to have its own rhythm. That meant hard choices — what to keep, what to let go, what to reimagine, and how to give characters a voice when the page had once carried their silence.

It was a delicate balance of loyalty and liberty. And I hope I’ve honored the spirit of what Yashfa created.

As Kan’bulo prepares to meet its audience, I want to take a moment to express my respect and gratitude to Yashfa Abdul Qani. Without her vision, there would be no story to adapt. Her courage in telling this story laid the foundation for everything that followed. I was just the one invited to build on it.

Kan’bulo is set to be released on 31 August 2025.

WHEN A POSTER HURTS MORE THAN A SCENE

This morning, the official poster for Kanbulo was released.
And if it made your heart skip a beat — good.
It’s meant to.

A girl. A newborn.
Blood-soaked hands.
Eyes wide open — not with fear… but with something worse: disbelief.
And yet, she’s still standing.

The girl on this poster — portrayed heartbreakingly by Mariyam Azza — came to me first through the pages of Yuktha, the 2006 National Award-winning novel inspired by true events.
I remember the moment I finished reading it: I was frozen. Gasping. Shattered.
And I knew — without a doubt — that she would never leave me until her voice reached the screen.

The poster doesn’t sell a fantasy. It doesn’t glamorize. It doesn’t comfort.
It unsettles.
Because Kanbulo isn’t here to entertain.
She’s here to speak — for those who never could.

Writing Kanbulo wasn’t like any other screenplay.
It tore something out of me.
There were days I sat blank, unable to type a word.
And nights when writing just a single scene left me emotionally gutted.
But I kept going.
Because silence was never an option — not for her.

We renamed the film Kanbulo — a name spoken with affection, like “sweetie” or “darling.”
But don’t be fooled by its softness.
This film bites. It bleeds. It fights back.
It confronts the quiet violence so many women endure — behind closed doors, beneath polite conversations, under the weight of shame that isn’t theirs to carry.

The official poster, brilliantly designed by Abdulla Muaz, captures that very roar—unflinching, visceral, and impossible to look away from.

This isn’t fiction.
It’s a mirror.
One many will want to look away from.
But I hope you won’t.

I’m proud to be reuniting with director Hussain Munavvaru for our fourth film together. After Kamanaa, this film takes a very different turn.
Kanbulo doesn’t flirt. It doesn’t seduce.
It screams.
And for once, we’re ready to listen.

Kan’bulo opens 31 August 2025.
And when it does — I hope it stirs something in you.
Not just pity. Not just rage.
But action.
Empathy.
Reflection.
And the courage to believe those who’ve been silenced for far too long.

Until then —
Hold your daughters.
Protect the vulnerable.
And when someone finally trusts you enough to speak…
Listen. Fully. Fiercely. Without turning away.