Although The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos aims to raise global awareness about the compulsive eviction of poor Nigerians from their homes and communities, it also immerses viewers in a compelling cinematic journey.
By Seyi Lasisi
A few minutes into The Agbajowo Collective’s written and directed The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos, committed readers of African poetry will discover a familiar sight by drawing an inference from a scene in the film with Nigerian poet John Pepper Clark’s Night Rain.
In this scene, the incessant pattering of the rain against Jawu’s (Temi Ami-Williams), the film’s protagonist’s fragile roof, will set off a chain of activities: sheltering Daniel (Kachi Okechukwu), her son, away from the rain, setting up bowls to welcome the invading rain, and lastly Jawu’s patching of the crumbling roof. As Jawu works, it’s easy to imagine that others in the Agbojedo community, also disturbed by the rain, will ultimately “settle to sleep of the innocent and free”, mirroring the spirit of Clark’s poem.
Besides illustrating Jawu’s selfless commitment to protecting Daniel and casually introducing part of the Agbojedo community, this scene additionally introduces Jawu’s affiliation to a powerful, freedom-fighter-esque ancestry.
As The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos progresses, we realize that the intrusive rain isn’t the only enemy of Jawu and the community members. A group of thugs led by Indiana (Adosu Segun “Eskim” Segara) and Alapa Lebe (Agunto Noray), acting under the direct command of Abisoro (Debo Adedayo), the Local Government Chairman, emerge as the dominant adversaries. Abisoro, who takes his orders from an unnamed royal father, recruits the manpower of unemployed youths to unleash terror on the Agbojedo occupants.
The Agbajowo Collective credited with writing and directing the film is a group of seven first-time and experienced filmmakers comprising Akinmuyiwa Bisola, Atinkpo Segun Elijah, Edukpo Tina, James Tayler, Mathew Cerf, Okechukwu Samuel and Ogungbamila Temitope.
Though fictional, The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos is deeply rooted in the real-life experiences of the Egun fishing community of Otodo Gbame, a waterfront slum in Lagos, Nigeria. Between November 2016 and April 2017, over 30,000 residents of this community were forcefully and violently evicted, reflecting the harsh realities that inspired the narrative of the film.
This film, aside from the innumerable pictures, videos, and documentaries created by the Justice Empowerment Initiative (JEI) — a non-profit and non-governmental organisation empowering poor and marginalised individuals and communities to lead the changes that they would like to see in their communities, is another visual testament to the strategic uprooting of the Otodo Gbame occupants from their community by the Lagos State Government.
Lagos is frequently depicted in the media as a thriving metropolis and a beacon of opportunity. While this portrayal is true for some, it ignores the stark poverty and structural inequalities that persist in the state. The vast wealth gap and hastily implemented government policies often disproportionately affect the working-class population, a reality that receives muted attention amid the grand narrative of Lagos as a land of opportunity.
The poor are relegated to the background, with government representatives and officials showing complacency towards providing economic and structural relief through policies. However, when these officials and institutions finally turn their attention to the poor in the name of “development,” it is often to serve their own interests rather than genuinely benefiting the affected communities.
As exemplified by Abisoro and other politicians during a club scene in The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos, Nigerian politicians can be likened to carnivorous fishes that prey on smaller ones. The Lagos State Government, and by extension, other state governments, often pursue development with a focus on transforming their cities into hubs for investment and industrial growth, disregarding the needs of the poor.
As always, citizens like Jawu and countless others become casualties of this capitalist expansion. The focus is predominantly on how the capitalist class will benefit, while the impact on the poor—politically, socially, geographically, and emotionally—is given only cursory attention.
Although The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos aims to raise global awareness about the compulsive eviction of poor Nigerians from their homes and communities, it also immerses viewers in a compelling cinematic journey. Temi Ami-Williams embodies the delicate, frustrated, and resilient demeanor of a citizen besieged by impulsive government actions and policies. The film’s sound design, curated by Peter Cornell, effectively enhances the emotional depth of the narrative, complementing the story’s powerful visuals and themes.
The slow and urgent soundtracks, alongside Michael “Truth” Ogunlade’s original score—deeply rooted in the cultural songs of the Egun people—serve as a fitting accompaniment to the narrative. Leo Purman’s cinematography is both beautifully staged and meticulously shot, drawing viewers into the story by focusing intimately on Jawu and the other characters’ expressions.
While The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos primarily centres on the forced eviction of the Agbojedo community, it also opens up another layer of political discussion.
The Lagos State Government’s unlawful arrest of citizens for infuriating and silly reasons (“wandering without evidence of livelihood”), the obsession of unemployed youths with leaving the country, the constant toiling for alternative means of survival when Nigeria keeps frustrating your legal plan (which give rise to criminal activities) are given equal but measured attention in the film. By watching Jawu’s story unfold, the film allows viewers to catch a glimpse of all these economic and political discussions.
A somewhat muted but pivotal moment in The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos occurred at the end. In this scene, Abisoro, his loyal thugs, and police officers are in a battle with residents of Agbojedo. At that moment, a resident of Agbojedo, probably with journalistic intent, started recording the incident. Interpreting this action is important because it’s upon it that the making of the film is laid.
Hitherto, the media often reports negative news about the Agbojedo occupants. They’re portrayed as violent barbarians. But, now armed with a phone camera, the citizens are telling their own unfiltered story for the world to see. This scene calls for the need for independent coverage of news related and shunning of reporting misleading news.
A trivial conflict I have with the film is in the third act. Throughout the film, there are constant reminders of Jawu’s possible affiliation with a spiritual being or powerful ancestry. The camera occasionally focuses on this aspect, and in one scene, Mitongi (Gerard Avlessi), a knowledgeable fisherman, explains the origin of the mark. This element, while intriguing, seems to distract from the main narrative of The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos, which centres on forced eviction and socio-economic issues.
Thus, from the onset, The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos already positioned Jawu as a sort of revolutionary. However, the moments leading up to her revolutionary act of inspiring the Agbojedo occupants to protest feels narratively contrived. While Jawu is clearly a member of the community with her own share of tragedies, her role as the “instigator” of the protest and revolution does not seamlessly fit into the fabric of her story.
This makes the protest scene appear weak, not because it fails to capture the political demands of the Agbojedo occupants, but because the film’s narrative does not provide Jawu with a clear turning point or compelling motivation for engaging with the political issues in her community. Although this flaw exists, it does not significantly detract from the film’s political message.
The Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos was selected for its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival on 7 September 2024.
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Seyi Lasisi is a Nigerian creative with an obsessive interest in Nigerian and African films as an art form. His film criticism aspires to engage the subtle and obvious politics, sentiments, and opinions of the filmmaker to see how they align with reality. He tweets @SeyiVortex. Email: seyi.lasisi@afrocritik.com.