‘Yemoja’: When Myth, Spectacle, and Vision Fail to Marry
Babatunde Lawal
Ahmed Yerima’s Yemoja, staged by the 400-level Theatre Arts students of Lagos State University and directed by David Adebanjo, arrives with the weight of promise. Rooted in Yoruba cosmology, the play sets out to explore divine love, betrayal, and the fragile balance between gods and men. These are rich materials, steeped in history and ritual. Unfortunately, the production struggles to shape them into a coherent theatrical experience.
What begins as an attempt at mythic grandeur quickly loses its sense of direction. Rather than drawing the audience into a sacred world with clarity and intention, the opening sequence relies heavily on special effects and loosely structured movement. The result is not immersion, but distance. Moments that should have felt symbolic and charged instead came across as underdeveloped, leaving the audience unsure of the spiritual rules governing the world of the play.
A major issue lies in the production’s directorial choices. The vision driving Yemoja feels uncertain, as though the play is constantly deciding what it wants to be. Is it ritual theatre, dramatic narrative, or spectacle-driven performance? It never fully commits to any of these. Scene transitions lacked rhythm and emotional continuity, causing the story to move in uneven bursts rather than a steady arc. Chants and stylised insertions appeared repeatedly, but instead of deepening meaning, they cluttered the narrative and weakened clarity. The choreography, while ambitious, suffered from poor rhythmic grounding. Rather than energising scenes, movement often drifted, failing to advance character or story.
This lack of interpretive focus made it difficult to track the emotional journey of the play. There was no sustained pulse, no clear escalation of tension. Moments that should have carried weight passed without resonance. The production leaned heavily on visual flair, but spectacle cannot replace narrative logic. Without a firm directorial spine, the play’s ideas remained scattered.
Technically, the production further undermined itself. Sound design was a persistent problem. Actors depended almost entirely on body microphones that frequently malfunctioned, resulting in lost dialogue and broken moments of connection. At crucial points, the audience was forced to guess what was being said. The use of gunshots was particularly troubling. Loud and abrupt, they startled rather than served the story. Instead of heightening tension, they disrupted the experience and felt careless in execution.
Issues of technical control extended to stage effects. Fire, used during Sango’s appearance, became a safety concern rather than a dramatic tool. Intended to convey power, it instead introduced anxiety into the space, requiring intervention to prevent danger. These moments highlighted a broader lack of coordination between intention and execution.
Costume and makeup design showed ambition but lacked consistency. Yemoja’s visual identity felt unresolved, caught between mythic symbolism and contemporary styling without a clear rationale. Ogun’s costume was more successful, conveying strength and spiritual authority. Sango looked the part, moving with expected ferocity, but performance choices did not always match the visual promise. Design, like direction, seemed to reach for impact without enough structural support.
The narrative itself holds potential. Yemoja’s love for Ogun, Esu’s interference, and the resulting conflict with Obatala offer a solid dramatic foundation. Yet forced comic relief and uneven blocking repeatedly undercut emotional stakes. Scenes meant to deepen conflict were diluted by gestures that felt more like skits than storytelling. Most frustrating was the unresolved buildup toward a confrontation between Sango and Ogun. Across several scenes, anticipation was carefully constructed, only for the arc to collapse without payoff. The absence of resolution exposed the play’s deeper dramaturgical gaps.
Still, within these shortcomings were performances that hinted at what Yemoja could have been. Olayinka Victor’s Esu stood out for physical commitment and expressive movement, even when dialogue faltered. Olanrewaju Oluwatosin brought presence and credibility to Ogun, grounding the character in strength. Akinyemi Samuel’s Obatala offered steadiness, while Olakunlehin Fathia’s Yemoja showed emotional potential that was never fully realised due to weak scene dynamics and limited chemistry.
In the end, Yemoja is not a failure of ambition, but of alignment. The ideas were present. The cultural material was rich. The effort was visible. What was missing was cohesion. Theatre rooted in mythology demands discipline, clarity, and restraint as much as it demands spectacle. Without these, even the most powerful stories lose their force.
What remains is a production that gestures toward depth but never quite reaches it. A reminder that vision, when left unattended, can drift. And when it does, no amount of smoke, sound, or special effects can carry the weight alone.
Ahmed Yerima’s Yemoja, staged by the 400-level Theatre Arts students of Lagos State University and directed by David Adebanjo, arrives with the weight of promise. Rooted in Yoruba cosmology, the play sets out to explore divine love, betrayal, and the fragile balance between gods and men. These are rich materials, steeped in history and ritual. Unfortunately, the production struggles to shape them into a coherent theatrical experience.
What begins as an attempt at mythic grandeur quickly loses its sense of direction. Rather than drawing the audience into a sacred world with clarity and intention, the opening sequence relies heavily on special effects and loosely structured movement. The result is not immersion, but distance. Moments that should have felt symbolic and charged instead came across as underdeveloped, leaving the audience unsure of the spiritual rules governing the world of the play.
A major issue lies in the production’s directorial choices. The vision driving Yemoja feels uncertain, as though the play is constantly deciding what it wants to be. Is it ritual theatre, dramatic narrative, or spectacle-driven performance? It never fully commits to any of these. Scene transitions lacked rhythm and emotional continuity, causing the story to move in uneven bursts rather than a steady arc. Chants and stylised insertions appeared repeatedly, but instead of deepening meaning, they cluttered the narrative and weakened clarity. The choreography, while ambitious, suffered from poor rhythmic grounding. Rather than energising scenes, movement often drifted, failing to advance character or story.
This lack of interpretive focus made it difficult to track the emotional journey of the play. There was no sustained pulse, no clear escalation of tension. Moments that should have carried weight passed without resonance. The production leaned heavily on visual flair, but spectacle cannot replace narrative logic. Without a firm directorial spine, the play’s ideas remained scattered.
Technically, the production further undermined itself. Sound design was a persistent problem. Actors depended almost entirely on body microphones that frequently malfunctioned, resulting in lost dialogue and broken moments of connection. At crucial points, the audience was forced to guess what was being said. The use of gunshots was particularly troubling. Loud and abrupt, they startled rather than served the story. Instead of heightening tension, they disrupted the experience and felt careless in execution.
Issues of technical control extended to stage effects. Fire, used during Sango’s appearance, became a safety concern rather than a dramatic tool. Intended to convey power, it instead introduced anxiety into the space, requiring intervention to prevent danger. These moments highlighted a broader lack of coordination between intention and execution.
Costume and makeup design showed ambition but lacked consistency. Yemoja’s visual identity felt unresolved, caught between mythic symbolism and contemporary styling without a clear rationale. Ogun’s costume was more successful, conveying strength and spiritual authority. Sango looked the part, moving with expected ferocity, but performance choices did not always match the visual promise. Design, like direction, seemed to reach for impact without enough structural support.
The narrative itself holds potential. Yemoja’s love for Ogun, Esu’s interference, and the resulting conflict with Obatala offer a solid dramatic foundation. Yet forced comic relief and uneven blocking repeatedly undercut emotional stakes. Scenes meant to deepen conflict were diluted by gestures that felt more like skits than storytelling. Most frustrating was the unresolved buildup toward a confrontation between Sango and Ogun. Across several scenes, anticipation was carefully constructed, only for the arc to collapse without payoff. The absence of resolution exposed the play’s deeper dramaturgical gaps.
Still, within these shortcomings were performances that hinted at what Yemoja could have been. Olayinka Victor’s Esu stood out for physical commitment and expressive movement, even when dialogue faltered. Olanrewaju Oluwatosin brought presence and credibility to Ogun, grounding the character in strength. Akinyemi Samuel’s Obatala offered steadiness, while Olakunlehin Fathia’s Yemoja showed emotional potential that was never fully realised due to weak scene dynamics and limited chemistry.
In the end, Yemoja is not a failure of ambition, but of alignment. The ideas were present. The cultural material was rich. The effort was visible. What was missing was cohesion. Theatre rooted in mythology demands discipline, clarity, and restraint as much as it demands spectacle. Without these, even the most powerful stories lose their force.
What remains is a production that gestures toward depth but never quite reaches it. A reminder that vision, when left unattended, can drift. And when it does, no amount of smoke, sound, or special effects can carry the weight alone.
Ahmed Yerima’s Yemoja, staged by the 400-level Theatre Arts students of Lagos State University and directed by David Adebanjo, arrives with the weight of promise. Rooted in Yoruba cosmology, the play sets out to explore divine love, betrayal, and the fragile balance between gods and men. These are rich materials, steeped in history and ritual. Unfortunately, the production struggles to shape them into a coherent theatrical experience.
What begins as an attempt at mythic grandeur quickly loses its sense of direction. Rather than drawing the audience into a sacred world with clarity and intention, the opening sequence relies heavily on special effects and loosely structured movement. The result is not immersion, but distance. Moments that should have felt symbolic and charged instead came across as underdeveloped, leaving the audience unsure of the spiritual rules governing the world of the play.
A major issue lies in the production’s directorial choices. The vision driving Yemoja feels uncertain, as though the play is constantly deciding what it wants to be. Is it ritual theatre, dramatic narrative, or spectacle-driven performance? It never fully commits to any of these. Scene transitions lacked rhythm and emotional continuity, causing the story to move in uneven bursts rather than a steady arc. Chants and stylised insertions appeared repeatedly, but instead of deepening meaning, they cluttered the narrative and weakened clarity. The choreography, while ambitious, suffered from poor rhythmic grounding. Rather than energising scenes, movement often drifted, failing to advance character or story.
This lack of interpretive focus made it difficult to track the emotional journey of the play. There was no sustained pulse, no clear escalation of tension. Moments that should have carried weight passed without resonance. The production leaned heavily on visual flair, but spectacle cannot replace narrative logic. Without a firm directorial spine, the play’s ideas remained scattered.
Technically, the production further undermined itself. Sound design was a persistent problem. Actors depended almost entirely on body microphones that frequently malfunctioned, resulting in lost dialogue and broken moments of connection. At crucial points, the audience was forced to guess what was being said. The use of gunshots was particularly troubling. Loud and abrupt, they startled rather than served the story. Instead of heightening tension, they disrupted the experience and felt careless in execution.
Issues of technical control extended to stage effects. Fire, used during Sango’s appearance, became a safety concern rather than a dramatic tool. Intended to convey power, it instead introduced anxiety into the space, requiring intervention to prevent danger. These moments highlighted a broader lack of coordination between intention and execution.
Costume and makeup design showed ambition but lacked consistency. Yemoja’s visual identity felt unresolved, caught between mythic symbolism and contemporary styling without a clear rationale. Ogun’s costume was more successful, conveying strength and spiritual authority. Sango looked the part, moving with expected ferocity, but performance choices did not always match the visual promise. Design, like direction, seemed to reach for impact without enough structural support.
The narrative itself holds potential. Yemoja’s love for Ogun, Esu’s interference, and the resulting conflict with Obatala offer a solid dramatic foundation. Yet forced comic relief and uneven blocking repeatedly undercut emotional stakes. Scenes meant to deepen conflict were diluted by gestures that felt more like skits than storytelling. Most frustrating was the unresolved buildup toward a confrontation between Sango and Ogun. Across several scenes, anticipation was carefully constructed, only for the arc to collapse without payoff. The absence of resolution exposed the play’s deeper dramaturgical gaps.
Still, within these shortcomings were performances that hinted at what Yemoja could have been. Olayinka Victor’s Esu stood out for physical commitment and expressive movement, even when dialogue faltered. Olanrewaju Oluwatosin brought presence and credibility to Ogun, grounding the character in strength. Akinyemi Samuel’s Obatala offered steadiness, while Olakunlehin Fathia’s Yemoja showed emotional potential that was never fully realised due to weak scene dynamics and limited chemistry.
In the end, Yemoja is not a failure of ambition, but of alignment. The ideas were present. The cultural material was rich. The effort was visible. What was missing was cohesion. Theatre rooted in mythology demands discipline, clarity, and restraint as much as it demands spectacle. Without these, even the most powerful stories lose their force.
What remains is a production that gestures toward depth but never quite reaches it. A reminder that vision, when left unattended, can drift. And when it does, no amount of smoke, sound, or special effects can carry the weight alone.