MishaI have to say, this break from self-help books has been very refreshing. The List by Yomi Adegoke is a kind of fictional novel that had me giggling but also sitting at the edge of my seat during my commute. I got that adrenaline rush to flick through to the next page at 100mph, a feeling I have very much missed from being nose-deep in a book like this.
The List would give anyone a glimpse into the culture of being first-generation Black British, navigating career paths, and the dramas of being a public figure on social media. I enjoyed relating to the fusion of cultures, when West Africa meets South London. My aunt had gifted everyone a book for her birthday, and this was one she picked for me. Her choice was perfect. I am also an aspiring journalist, and I definitely got some Carrie Bradshaw vibes from the main character, Ola, who writes for a feminist magazine. Reading her worst nightmare unravel had me questioning what I would do in the same situation.
Setting the scene, picture an engaged couple, Instagram clout, at the peak of their love life, ready to make it down the aisle. Both their worlds turn upside down with the release of a sexual predator list on Twitter, and Michael, the groom, is named. Both perspectives are shared, showing how an accusation of this magnitude is only the beginning of a downward spiral that unlocks new lows.
Not a fan of spoilers, so consider this your warning: give it a read and come back later to compare thoughts. Cancel culture might be fun for some to watch during a routine doom scroll, but the real-life implications are another story. It is typical for people on the internet to find new intel about a public figure, open Instagram or TikTok, check their socials, and have a laugh at the commentary or even join in. I am not going to lie, I don’t get involved in all of that, but I will have a look, of course I’ll have a look, and laugh. You know you are guilty of it too!
Not knowing for sure if Michael was guilty of the accusations made me hold back from sympathising with his character. I do not think I will ever fully understand the mind of a man, and honestly, I do not think I want to. But how can one truly not be sure if they’re responsible for sexual assault? I questioned the various opinions people have on the thin line between consent and assault.
Then there is Ola, who quickly goes from the peak of her prime time to the peak of her dilemmas. Being a feminist myself, it was mind-boggling to uncover her thought processes, torn between every element of what makes her who she is. Her morals, career, social life, and love life are all left on a cliffhanger at once. Under that much pressure, I am confident I would collapse and pray I wake up from such a bad dream. The lose-lose situation of staying with someone whose reputation dismantles everything you stand against or letting go of your love life without any evidence of whether the accusation is true is horrifying.
Beyond the Tea app data breach and Diddy’s acquittal, I completely understand the urgency of protecting women from violence by men. With less than 3% of reported rape cases resulting in a charge in the UK, which mind you, does not account for voices that never make a police report, it is no wonder people take matters into their own hands. This experience is showcased in the novel, detailing the emotional trauma and life changes when an abuser gets away with it.
My concerns for the future of such a heavy discussion are about how these spaces will be filtered. It is unfair for people to take advantage of a platform and accuse innocent people of serious crimes, but it is also mandatory to keep people safe from abusers. Cancel culture is real. It can erase people from the internet and leave little room for a comeback unless creators force their way back. It works sometimes, given the shortening attention spans of those chronically online and how quickly people take sides when they like a public figure or are equally culpable. Every time drama emerges and someone I know takes the side of the accused, engaging in victim blaming even with evidence, I must admit, I look at them sideways or never again.
I have never considered how abusers, guilty of hurting others, make a comeback. My immediate thought is that they simply do not. But it becomes very complicated if the accused is innocent. No return online, no job opportunities, reputation shattered, does someone’s life literally have to end, or is there a chance for rehabilitation for the guilty and resurrection for the innocent?
The List forces readers to confront uncomfortable questions about morality, justice, and the human tendency to judge based on limited information. It blends humor, suspense, and social commentary in a way that makes the book both entertaining and thought-provoking. I found myself laughing one moment, questioning my own opinions the next, and reflecting deeply on society’s mechanisms for accountability.
This was really food for thought. If you were Ola or Michael, is there anything you would have done differently?
