Angelina Jolie steps out of a black sedan in front of a London hotel, long coat flying, paparazzi bulbs popping. Thirty seconds later British rapper-historian Akala appears at the same entrance. Cue the screamer headlines: “Brad Who? Jolie’s New Man!” “Ange Steals Another Heart!” But zoom out past the flash and you’ll find the rest of the picture—namely Chanelle Newman, Akala’s partner of many years, walking right beside them, smiling, completely cropped out of the viral frame. Once again, a woman sharing pavement with a famous man is declared “smitten” while the actual relationship walks past in plain sight.
The rumour mill started churning in earnest last August when Jolie and Akala were photographed leaving a Venice hotel during the Film Festival. The shots looked intimate: heads tilted in conversation, matching black outfits, that easy laughter cameras love to sexualise. Gossip sites ran hard, claiming “secret dates,” “hotel rendezvous,” and even a timeline stretching back to a 2023 literary festival in Jamaica. Lost in the blur was the fact that Akala’s long-time girlfriend Chanelle was present at almost every sighting—just outside the frame that sells papers .
Sources close to the actress have repeated the same sentence so often it could be a chorus: “Angie is close friends with Akala and his partner Chanelle. She is not dating anyone right now” . Insiders told People the trio met through humanitarian circles years ago, bonded over colonial-history documentaries, and have since collaborated on educational projects. Akala’s deep dives into Black British history—stories of Kelso Cochrane, Olive Morris and the Windrush generation—apparently sparked ideas for Jolie’s next producing venture, not sparks of romance . When the rumours reignited in October, yet another source shrugged: “They all work together. Chanelle is always there” .
The chemistry everyone thinks they’re seeing is really a shared language of activism. Both Jolie and Akala campaign for refugees, racial justice and better history curricula; both use red-carpet flash to drag cameras toward issues that matter. That synergy can look like flirtation under harsh lighting, especially when headlines need a villain (Jolie the “man-stealer”) and a hero (Akala the “caught prey”). But friends who attended the New York Film Festival after-party say the pair spent most of the night in separate circles—Jolie introducing her son Pax to industry contacts, Akala deep in conversation with young poets . Hardly the stuff of secret trysts.
Even Akala’s own actions have tried to correct the record. At a London Christmas party he happily introduced Chanelle as “my girlfriend and creative partner” to photographers who moments earlier had screamed for shots of him and Jolie . Chanelle, co-founder of their production company, manages Akala’s diary; she books the flights, vets the venues, decides which paparazzi shots get approved. If she’s “rarely on the scene,” as one tabloid claimed, it’s only because editors chose to crop her out—not because she wasn’t there .
So why does the fantasy persist? Partly it’s the echo of 2005: images of Jolie and a then-married Brad Pitt on a beach in Kenya solidified the “homewrecker” label that tabloids love to recycle. Partly it’s boredom—Pitt has been linked to various women since their split; Jolie’s romantic silence feels like a vacuum begging to be filled. And partly it’s good old-fashioned sexism: a woman seen talking to a man twice must be plotting a proposal, while a man talking to a woman is simply networking.
The truth is far less salacious and far more inspiring. Three adults who care about books, borders and better narratives have decided to pool their influence. Whether that produces a documentary, a university lecture series, or simply a friendship that outlives gossip cycles, it deserves headlines more than any made-up romance. Next time you see Jolie and Akala side by side, look for the third figure just out of frame—the one holding the notebook, the schedules, and the proof that some stories are about collaboration, not conquest.
