Bravo’s The Real Housewives franchise has been a mega hit in the US, garnering fans around the world. Its choice cities have reputations that each instalment seeks to enhance or alter, and its casts have distinct personalities, most of them showing their other lives as businesswomen, mothers, wives, and society It Ladies. My favourites, the all-black casts of Atlanta and Potomac and the mainly white cast of Beverly Hills, are among the buzziest, not only because the ladies lean into their individual roles, but also because they are aware of how they are perceived as “representations” of their communities. The ladies of Atlanta have the entrepreneurial grit you’d expect of one of the capitals of black culture in America. The women of Potomac, in a suburb in Maryland, USA, embellish an upper-class society in which black people are seldom shown in detail. And, amidst the bickering, the ladies of Beverly Hills project Hollywood allure.
After Bravo launched its first African instalment in 2018, with The Real Housewives of Johannesburg, in South Africa, it was only a matter of time before the franchise came to Nigeria, to the natural choice city: Lagos.
As Africa’s biggest and most vibrant metropolitan area, home to major branches of Nollywood and Afrobeats, two of the world’s biggest entertainment industries, Lagos offers limitless options for casting, which might have been a headache for the production company, Livespot 360, led by singer Darey Art Alade. Viewers want drama and glamour, maybe in that order, and the cast includes women who have been delivering both for years now: socialites Carolyne Hutchings and Laura Ikeji, actress Iyabo Ojo, and designer Toyin Lawani. Joining them are two relative unknowns: hair specialist Chioma Ikokwu and businesswoman Miriam Timmer. In this interesting mix, viewers will immediately note something: every woman on the Lagos cast is a strong personality.
The clashes are instant.
It starts with Laura Ikeji. On their first meeting, she looks uninterested, and in subsequent meetings she brings enough negative energy that the women resort to warding her off. But like energies attract and friendships-cum-alliances form: Laura and Toyin have a pre-show relationship; Iyabo, who is styled by Toyin off the show, gets closer to Chioma; but the friendship goal was Carolyne and Chioma, who hype each other in public and in their confessionals. The two bourgie ladies are clearly aware of their classiness and magnetism, which doesn’t go down well with Laura and Toyin.
The real world enters the show in Episode 3, when Laura exchanges hot words with Carolyne and Chioma. The contention: Laura’s big sister, Linda Ikeji, the famous blogger. First, Laura tells Iyabo that she would slap Carolyne, and Iyabo tells Chioma, who promises to slap Laura back, and then tells Carolyne. It is heartbreaking watching Carolyne cry about her daughter having two holes in her heart and accuse Linda of destroying her marriage; it is hard not to be won over by her explosion at Laura. The clip circulated on social media, and Linda Ikeji trended, her reputation as a celebrity gossip coming in for brutal criticism. Dragging Linda Ikeji into the quarrel foreshadowed something that would become apparent in subsequent episodes: the show is unable to manufacture its own original drama.
The ladies’ split into camps is shaped by offscreen dynamics: Laura picks issues with Carolyne because the latter has issues with Linda and Toyin; Laura picks issues with Chioma because the latter describes her as a “client,” not a friend; Toyin’s problems with Carolyne stem from a fallout a decade ago. Based on this formation, it is not surprising then that the only lady who had no pre-show conflict within the group, Iyabo, is also the only one without major onscreen drama — although she is a willing instigator of it. Yet given her pre-show reputation, it is surprising that she, like Mirriam who came with antics that fail to stick, does not sparkle.
There are those who see The Real Housewives franchise as a dramatization of both female rapport and mistrust. The ladies of Lagos show both. Carolyne and Chioma analyze the rest of the cast and how women pretend. A truth-or-dare game shakes tables. Toyin asks about Carolyne’s publicly disintegrated marriage to billionaire Musa Danjuma, Miriam asks Chioma’s friend why people perceive Chioma as a “bitch,” and Miriam, a little too loud for some of the ladies’ liking, dares Chioma to kiss her ass, literally — which Chioma does.
Carolyne isn’t a fan of Miriam’s foul language. “The first thing you say is, ‘Hello bitches’? I’m a mother. I’m a working-class woman. I’m not gonna walk into a place where I’m trying to know women and I’ll start shouting, ‘Hello bitches.’ What the fuck.” Chioma presses and Caro says, “It’s not a problem, my darling, I’ll get to know her. But I get a choice to decide who should be my friend and who should not be my friend.” Prescient words.
It’s easy to see why Carolyne and Chioma are drawn to each other: they are more collected than the rest. But their relationship aches the other ladies. When both women don’t attend Laura’s first event, Toyin and Iyabo tag Carolyne a “follower.” (At almost every event, though, someone is missing: Iyabo hosts and Laura is missing, Chioma hosts and Iyabo is missing.) Toyin’s ache bursts into the open at Laura’s second event, a fashion show hosted by Denrele, the socialite. The usual suspects bring their fashion A-game: Carolyne, Toyin, who takes every chance to remind everyone that fashion is her terrain, and Chioma, the show’s flashiest dresser.
You know she has stolen the spotlight when Toyin, in her confessional, goes: “Chioma, she always feels like, okay, she wants to make her entrance; I’m like, babe, nobody can outshine me when it comes to fashion. It’s not a competition, we are not in secondary school.” She, of course, maintains the energy and ignores Chioma’s entrance, and ignores Carolyne, too.
The editing here is funny and ironic. As Chioma observes that Carolyne and Toyin have not spoken to each other, Toyin is pissed that Chioma and Carolyne were invited after they skipped Laura’s first event, calling them “pretentious.” “Being fake is not for me, I’m done being chilled,” she declares. With Laura’s models walking down the runway, Toyin opens her phone to show her own pieces to Chioma, who thought it “competitive,” not the appropriate time.
The ladies are unimpressed by Laura’s fashion. “I’m not sure if this is the actual collection, because right now, I don’t really understand what I’m seeing,” Chioma says. Toyin, Laura’s friend, has sharper words: “Laura’s style is not my style; immediately I saw the collection and I saw the runway, I knew it was Laura.” Then Chioma turns the knife: “This sort of thing I would wear to stay home, possibly to go to sleep, I would not wear this anywhere.” Ouch.
Ironically, the most positive in her confessional is Carolyne: “Beautiful collection, Laura. Keep it up. Today, you are happy. Be happy, Laura.” Funny. Chioma agrees: “Let me not lie, I like the silk shorts. I’m being extra mean because she’s a bitch.”
Energy comes on the runway in the form of Iyabo, which excites the women, and then she walks again with her model daughter Priscilla. A heartwarming moment. Toyin wonders, humourously, if Iyabo, in a mini skirt and a crop top, is wearing Priscilla’s clothes: “This Iyabo doesn’t want to get old. Iyabo, rest in Jesus’ name.” Then in a worrying moment, Toyin and Miriam appear judgmental when Laura’s little son, who walks the runway, asks for N100 when Denrele prompts him to ask for anything. It is usually a rule of classy reality TV: children are off limits.
Laura, a Type A sanguine, is delighted with the presence of the two women she has repeatedly said she does not care about. She starts a toast, then breaks it to mention Chioma; Chioma thinks Laura wants her approval but is going about it the wrong way. It is Episode 6, and the central conflict of the season is forming: it may be Laura, backed by Toyin, versus Chioma and Carolyne. Or so it seems.
Things rush downhill. Miriam is hosting next, but her warning to the ladies — “Don’t squash your issues in my house. If you shout, I’ll kick your ass out” — offends them. Still, they show up in time, except for Carolyne and Chioma who are 4-6 hours late. In their absence, the other four ladies joke about Carolyne, bringing up the lyric from a Davido song about her: Carolyne, save your drama. They arrive and Iyabo lays down the rules for Chioma, who is always late. There is happy relief when Miriam takes them upstairs for karaoke, and they sing Rihanna’s “Umbrella.”
Reality TV breeds premium toxicity, and The Real Housewives has banked on that for popularity and ratings, but you can see how half of the ladies — aside from Laura, Toyin, and Miriam — are not necessarily embracing drama. Yet when Laura later brings up Chioma and Carolyne’s lateness in their WhatsApp group, an epic fight follows, and in the heat of allegations, Carolyne accuses Laura of being pimped out to a governor. It is the season’s first climax.
Iyabo’s response, to call a meeting, is premature, and the ladies think so, but they respect Iyabo, so they attend, yet Iyabo is no peacemaker but a seasoned instigator. First, Laura wants Toyin’s support, but the two argue about what friends are for; for Laura, it looks like blind loyalty. Then Laura faces Carolyne.
In a moment of absolute illogic, Laura threatens to “physically attack” Carolyne if she mentions her sister Linda again. Laura is referring to their previous fight, and one wonders why, now that she has her own platform on a major show, she keeps namedropping her more famous sister rather than focus on imprinting her own personality in the public eye. For the first time in their push-and-pull antagonism, Carolyne proceeds on the offense, screaming back at Laura. Both ladies pounce and are held back, but not before Laura’s wig comes off on international TV.
Amidst its drama, The Real Housewives of Lagos captures something real: the shifting nature of friendship, especially in adulthood, especially in disagreement. Nowhere does it explode in our faces than in Carolyne and Chioma’s relationship. That, in the final two episodes, takes place in Dubai, and, in a clever, effective editorial choice, is told backwards, the details pieced together gradually.
We see a teary Chioma call her parents, tell them about protecting someone she’s close with. We see Toyin explain that Iyabo is okay but never backs down from a fight. We see Iyabo tell the ladies she wants to return to Nigeria. Then we get the first fully formed gist from Laura: she overheard Iyabo shouting the previous night, wanting to fight Carolyne. At the pool side, Chioma, Iyabo, Miriam, and Carolyne unpack a bit of what happened: Carolyne says it was transferred aggression from losing her $45,000 bracelet, Iyabo thinks it’s Carolyne being angry that the other ladies are talking to Laura, whom they’d all earlier agreed to ice out.
As the story is teased out, the viewer is intrigued. Chioma suggests that Carolyne wasn’t remorseful the first time they spoke in private; Carolyne insists she was, thinks in her confessional that Chioma is selling her out to Iyabo, explains that she has apologized three times and bought Iyabo a gift. Carolyne is the first to switch it up: “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Chioma is the first to say shut up and call names. “I’ve been begging for this idiot!”
“Fool,” Carolyne calls her.
This is a beautiful relationship coming undone, and it is sad to watch.
“Everybody wants to beat you, everybody wants to fuck you up, Carolyne!” Chioma screams. “I should have let them beat you, nobody can stand you. Because they love me, you’re jealous!”
Chioma is going for a full 180 turn. In a stunning, ill-thought decision, she pushes Iyabo, who rams into her target: Carolyne. “Now that she’s done it to me, and I see how it feels, me, I’m on Laura’s side,” she declares in her confessional, and then tears the chain both ladies got together to “pepper” the other ladies.
Iyabo, Miriam, and Toyin are surprised that Chioma and Carolyne are fighting. “It’s a miracle,” Toyin says. “I can never in a hundred years to come say that these people will ever have issues with each other.” Laura, meanwhile, rejoices.
It is over. The show’s worst fight happened between its best friends. The other ladies appear to ice out Carolyne, and Chioma doesn’t invite her to a racing event she takes them to. Yet something else seems afoot. Story and editing align to seemingly cast the missing lady, Carolyne, as the show’s villain. Except viewers aren’t buying it – especially after that dramatic reunion.
Although it made some sense, narratively speaking, the decision to end The Real Housewives of Lagos in Dubai confirms a legitimate problem with how the show frames itself. My understanding — in comparison to long-running shows, I know — is that each instalment in the franchise is meant to channel the energy of its city, or at least to establish its own spirit. I am unsure that The Real Housewives of Lagos captures the character of Lagos or succeeds in creating an identity for the show — and this not an element that displays of wealth and fashion can specify.
Instead, the producers seemed distracted by the draw of Dubai. The women probably mention “Dubai” more times than they do “Lagos.” One wishes they showed Lagos the way that The Real Housewives of Dubai, an international breakout, did Dubai. When Carolyne takes the ladies to “Billionaire’s Club” (Billionaire Dubai), and they note that the other guests love their Nigerian flair, the producers still did not get it: Nigerians are Nigerians and that is why other people are interested in us. How better to show them who we are than to end the story back home in Lagos? It is, I’d argue, a failure of branding.
Fans of The Real Housewives expect entertaining wit from each cast. It is a game of verbal tact: shade or be read, slay or be slayed. And this — the art of throwing shades and giving flawless reads — is where the ladies of Lagos are lacking. Of them all, Carolyne is the most promising (she calls Laura’s dress to Miriam’s event “shiny black wrapper”), and Chioma and Toyin show up, too (Toyin refers to Chioma as “Plastic Doll” and Chioma says Laura’s fashionwear is what she would wear to sleep). But most times when the ladies fight, it is overt, unchecked aggression that makes for bad TV.
And they know it.
“Once you put women in the same house, in the same environment, they will show who they really are,” Laura says at a point, echoing a similar point by Toyin. (It would be interesting to probe how this specific group of ladies see being female in the public eye.)
And still they stick to it.
“If anybody brings drama, they will literally collect,” Toyin declares, a threat of violence. “I will make sure that my boys outside give you.” (At the reunion, she gets up and actually tries to hit Chioma.)
The funnest moments are when the women tease each other, like they do Miriam at Toyin’s Dubai dinner for her 45th birthday. Or when, before that, in Nigeria, at Toyin’s first event, they hail her for winning the contest of best host: Toyin, with this one, you win. Take the crown. I take my hat off to you, you won!
But while Toyin created the best events on the show, it is Carolyne and Laura who are the breakout stars of The Real Housewives of Lagos. Not merely because they clashed throughout and dominated conversations, but because, in providing moments of real emotion — Carolyne on her daughter, Laura on Toyin’s friendship and that warm scene with her husband — they are also the ones who demonstrate the highs, lows, and dimensions that, as Bethenny Frankel of The Real Housewives of New York once said on Watch What Happens Live (can’t find the link!), we should expect of the most interesting Housewives. Yet even entertainment cannot make up for a first season that, by failing to fully frame Lagos, does not stamp its own identity on a crowded franchise map. ♦
If you love what you just read, please consider making a PayPal donation to enable us to publish more like it.
More Film Reviews from Open Country Mag
— Battle on Buka Street, Reviewed: Blockbuster Dramedy with Emotional Burn
— The Trade, Reviewed: Kidnappers Vs. Police
— King of Thieves (Agesinkole), Reviewed: A Captivating Yoruba Epic
— Gangs of Lagos, Reviewed: A Crime Thriller with Big Ambition
— Brotherhood, Reviewed: A Policeman and a Robber
— Shanty Town, Reviewed: Crime and Punishment, Fate and Freedom
— A Sunday Affair, Reviewed: A Stumbling Story of Romance and Tested Friendship
— Prophetess, Reviewed: A Modernist Portrayal of Faith
— Blood Sisters, Reviewed: A Rousing Murder Thriller
— La Femme Anjola, Reviewed: An African Neo-Noir Titillates in Crime and Lust
— Swallow, Reviewed: Perturbance in Ordinary Lives
— Ife, Reviewed: Lesbian Love in Bourgie Lagos
— Nne, Reviewed: Two Mothers and a Son
— The Men’s Club, Reviewed: A Charming Depiction of Male Friendship
