Nikki Amuka-Bird: ‘I just played the prime minister and thought, me? Run the country?’

I became an orphan in my 40s, which was a strange and disturbing experience. This year is the eighth anniversary of my mum’s passing, which feels like an interesting time to think: how much have I learned since she died? Growing up, she gave me these great life lessons, which I’ve been applying since she’s not been here. I feel really proud of her, and proud of myself how I’ve handled it.

Mum was an incredible woman. She came from a very humble background. It wasn’t until she was dying that I read her secret journals about how tough, neglectful and abusive her childhood had been. But she had this spirit of “I’m going to disregard my limitations and do absolutely everything I can to achieve everything I want to achieve.” She wanted me to be stimulated by culture and beauty and the arts.

All my friends wanted to stay at our house because they could have conversations with my mum that they couldn’t have with their own. My mum really invited this idea of free thinking. She was the editor of a Nigerian fashion magazine, so it was quite normal to go into the living room and find an impromptu photoshoot. I remember travelling with her to fashion suit shoots in Brazil, thinking she was the most glamorous thing ever.

I feel very lucky to be doing the job I’m doing. Often I’m asked to play characters who feel bigger or stronger than I am; women who might intimidate me in real life. I just played the prime minister in the film Rumours and thought: “Me? Run the country?”

I’m a hippy at heart. I can apply myself but the machinations of power terrify me. I’m a pacifist. I’m a glass-half-full person. I believe in humanity at its core, and the importance of putting out positivity in the world. It gets harder, when you read the news and see the state of the world. But I return to these practices about loving your neighbour and doing the best that you can.

I used to sell candles in a shop called Angelic on London’s Oxford Street, the year before I went to drama college. Since then, I’ve never done any other type of work than acting. You get to this stage in life and think: “Gosh. Surely I should have some other skills?”

One thing I have learned is how to use weapons. What’s terrifying is that you feel this extension from your body. I remember between takes constantly thinking: “Where’s my gun?” It terrifies me how quickly the power of having a gun can corrupt you.

I cry when I’m happy as well as when I’m sad. When I feel like I’m really connecting to a particular person in a particularly moment, I think: “God, it’s so great to be alive.”

Tragedy and comedy are closely linked. It’s playing the truth, understanding the absurdity that as human beings we should have the answers. Most people would have no idea what to do in a crucial moment and are improvising their whole lives out of their depth. There’s something comforting when you remember that.

Rumours is in cinemas now; Here opens on 17 January