Oyindamola Shoola’s Face Me I Face You is a vibrant, humorous exploration of everyday life in a Nigerian communal setting. With wit and insight, she captures many of the complexities of living in close quarters, where the boundaries between lives blur, and neighbours’ stories intertwine in ways that are sometimes humorous, sometimes poignant. This collection feels deeply rooted in the local context while exploring universal themes of family, relationships, and societal expectations. The poems use humour to lightly engage these themes, while leaving room for deeper reflection on the human interactions that form the foundation of community.
Oyindamola does a great job of taking the ordinary and infusing it with wit, irony, and playfulness. Her characters are often caught in situations that are both familiar and absurd, and it is through these moments that she invites us to laugh – not just at the characters, but at ourselves. In Face Me I Face You, humour becomes a lens through which we can observe the intricacies of human motivations and interactions in communal living, helping us digest heavier themes particularly in traditional contexts, without feeling overwhelmed.
The frustrations and pursuit of romantic relationships underscore many poems in the collection, reflecting not just personal aspirations but also the broader societal pressures that shape romantic relationships. Oyindamola’s characters navigate the realities of love within a communal setting, where personal desires are rarely free from scrutiny. In poems like How I Got This Ring, Oyindamola references pop lyrics with playful nods to tradition: “I don’t cook / I don’t clean, but let me tell you / how I got this ring.” These lines don’t seem to celebrate a break from tradition as much as they humourously poke at it, while subtly acknowledging that even in a seemingly rebellious stance, the traditional markers of relationship success still matter.
The transactional nature of relationships also features prominently in the collection. In poems such as Good Husband Material, Oyindamola explores how romantic prospects are often tied to social status and financial security, reflecting the practical realities of dating, relatable even beyond the community her characters inhabit. Yet, beneath the humour and pragmatism, these characters still long for genuine connections. The Face Me I Face You communal setting complicates these relationships further, with the thin walls not only symbolising a lack of privacy but also reflecting how intertwined lives become. Love, breakups, and personal decisions inevitably become shared experiences, turning private matters into public stories that everyone has a stake in.
As a quick segue, I’m not about to call Oyindamola a ‘thief’ – and even if she is, I couldn’t say exactly what she’s trying to steal. However, some of the poems use humour like a mask, reminiscent of the biblical story where Jacob disguised himself as Esau to steal his brother’s birthright. Throughout the collection, there is a seemingly consistent and delicate balancing act between humour and societal critique. Some of her characters’ deeply traditional stances can sometimes feel overwhelming, but she skilfully performs a sleight of hand, leaving readers to wonder: is she criticising the burden of these traditions, or highlighting the good intentions behind them? Beneath the humour lies a subtle sense that Oyindamola is sometimes quietly grappling with both traditional and progressive values – particularly around gender roles – suggesting a critique that cuts in both directions. Yet, her use of humour distances her from fully committing to either side, leaving the critique open for interpretation.
Faith is also very present in Face Me I Face You, but Oyindamola does not present it in an overly pious way. Instead, it is shown as a natural part of her characters’ lives – one that coexists with their frustrations, ambitions, and humour, helping them navigate the tangled complexities of communal existence. Whether it’s Mama Sade’s relentless 3 AM prayers or Sade’s humorous appeal to God in Father, Oyindamola reflects how deeply embedded faith is in the community’s psyche.
As simple as many of the poems appear, they often can be as deep as you are willing to peel them back. For example, in Father, the protagonist petitions God for material wealth: “FATHER! Rolls-Royce is my inheritance / and let my enemies bear evidence!” On the surface, this plea satirises the transactional nature of faith in many contemporary societies, where devotions are often linked to expectations of material blessings. At the same time, it reflects a genuine belief in the power of faith to change circumstances – a common perspective in the cultural setting of Oyindamola’s characters.
But upon closer inspection, the line offers a deeper commentary: the human desire not only to achieve success but to flaunt it, particularly in front of those who doubted or envied us along the way.
The speaker’s appeal to God is not just for blessings but for blessings that will make others – especially their enemies – froth violently at the mouth. This reflects a familiar cultural impulse: the need to ‘press’ others by showing off achievements, particularly material ones. Oyindamola highlights how faith can sometimes become entangled with a desire for social validation, where blessings are only fully satisfying if they can be publicly displayed. In this way, the poem gently critiques the human tendency to measure success by the envy it provokes, turning personal prayers into performances aimed at external approval.
Through this humorous yet insightful line, Oyindamola presents faith not only as a deeply personal practice but also as one shaped by societal pressures – where even spiritual activities can be tainted or influenced carnal pursuits. It is a clever reflection of how ambition, faith, and social dynamics coexist in ways that are both relatable and amusing.
The interplay of faith, community, and individual desires is key to understanding life in a Face Me I Face You residence. The thin walls in a ‘Face Me I Face You’ residence don’t just symbolise a lack of privacy – they reflect how closely intertwined lives can become. Oyindamola’s poems suggest that, while these connections may be irritating at times, they create a unique sense of belonging, making life in a communal setting rich, meaningful, and memorable. The constant presence of neighbours means that moments of joy, sorrow, frustration, and celebration are shared, fostering an environment where everyone becomes a part of each other’s stories.
In conclusion, Face Me I Face You is a joyful, introspective collection that uses humour and subtle social commentary to reflect on human relationships, personal motivations and communal life, through almost seemingly banal moments. This collection is both engaging and thought-provoking, making it a rewarding read that lingers long after it ends.
