Noughts + Crosses: A Review of the 6th episode of the popular BBC drama series

 Before reading, make sure you watch episodes 1-5 of Noughts + Crosses, and read my reviews of them! The below review contains a few spoilers as to what has already happened so far in the series…

Links to previous reviews:

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Rating: 4 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐

There is A LOT of violence in this final episode of Noughts + Crosses. (Well, we don’t know if the drama will be re-commissioned for another series; here’s hoping!)

At times it does feel rather gratuitous. But at the same time, when rage, frustration, injustice and angst are blended together, things can get pretty out of control.

The much-loved grime rapper Stormzy makes an appearance in this episode, as the editor of The Ohene Standard newspaper, Kolawale. Stormzy delivers a pretty convincing performance. The guy can act, who knew?

Barely has the editor given the order: “Let’s party” to celebrate 100 years of The Ohene Standard, than the festivities are turned upside down. Members of the Liberation Militia barge in and smash at everything in sight.

It isn’t long before the police arrive, and though Callum and Jude manage to escape, their accomplice Nicola does not.

It is absolutely no surprise that Jude sees his friend being attacked, and runs away. He seems to be in the habit of creating trouble and then being too cowardly to take the blame for it. Although of course, knowing how brutal the police are to Noughts, we can sympathise with him to some degree.

Speaking of degrees, Sephy doesn’t want one. Her father cannot believe she doesn’t want to go to Okene-Aprica University, despite having been offered a place to study there. Okene-Aprica is depicted as a prestigious university, I suppose akin to Oxbridge. Persephone’s act of defiance signifies a rejection of the establishment, of the status quo. She doesn’t want to study at an institution that has created leaders that go on to continue the cycle of oppression against Noughts – her father being one of them. She doesn’t want to be part of a system that will teach selective history and stoke racial tension. More than this, Sephy’s decision to decline her offer shows the mind of a strong woman at work. Throughout the drama, Sephy takes up her place as an empowering female character – she has her own voice and she uses it even when men are trying to silence her.

Kamal, for once, is silenced by Sephy. He refers to his philandering with a Nought woman years ago – which produced his mixed-race son Yaro – as “outside silliness”. This is the same man who has been speaking of interracial relationships as evidence of an erosion of culture, and the products of them as “mongrels”. The hypocrisy is unreal. Furthermore, what would have happened if Yaro had not turned up at the Hadley house to tell Jasmine and her daughters the concealed truth, as he did in the last episode?

Jasmine and Sephy cannot cope with Kamal’s lies anymore, and decide to leave the home.

I don’t blame them. Kamal really does not seem to have a heart. In reference to the death of Nicola, after excessive restraint and force from police officers, he says “One of the culprits has already been… dealt with.” Who refers to the murder of a human being in such a way?

Kamal cares little about Noughts, and he cares little for his own family. He meets with editor Kolawale to ask him to discredit the (true) story that Yaro is going to tell the press. He will stop at nothing to cover his own tracks.

The word “halfer” is analogous to the offensive word “half-caste”. Kamal’s influence has meant Yaro is now being painted as a deranged attention-seeker.

Kamal isn’t the only one who does a lot of lying in this episode. So does Callum.

That’s not what he said about Sephy in the last episode!

Callum’s resolution to stamp out his feelings for Sephy enables him to take steps he would never otherwise have taken. In a drastic move to take power from Kamal, Jack Dorn authorises the LM to go for Sephy.

Callum is the bait, and Sephy takes it. In this moment, Callum becomes almost a Judas-like character, betraying the one he loves by first lavishing her with kisses – before he leaves room for the eagles to come swooping in.

The fear and betrayal in Sephy’s eyes cuts to the heart.

Callum watches on emotionlessly as another LM member thrusts a sack over Sephy’s head. This is not the Callum we know. What has happened to him?

Jude’s relentless taunting, questioning his brother’s loyalty to the cause, appears to be the push factor.

A look of approval and a pat on the back from Jack Dorn seems to have become Jude’s drug.

It is pitiful to see just how much Jude craves attention from the LM’s ringleader. His character is a prime example of how becoming marginalised and cast aside can lead someone to seek identity and value from the wrong people. Jack Dorn has essentially become his new father.

Speaking of fathers, will the father of Yaro Hadley please stand up – and be a real father? Nope. Nope, he won’t. All Kamal will do is pay off his illegitimate son and order him to go far, far away. Yet, as Yaro reminds him, no matter how many miles separate them, Yaro is not a fictional character. He is a bodily personification of Kamal’s romance with a Nought woman – evidence that he has broken all the rules he claims to stand on so firmly.

As different as they may be, Kamal and Jude are ultimately breaking the same rules. They are aligning themselves with a code which tells them that career opportunities and fame come before family. Their morals are being further flung out of the window, as their statuses rise. 

“This is my side. I brought you in”, Jude retorts, as his brother Callum reminds him that they are on the same side and fighting against the same system. Jude’s desperation to finally be a part of something, has come to trump everything. His relationships with his mother and brother are shrivelling away, all because the Liberation Militia has given him a new identity.

Sephy’s fear is palpable.

“She’s nothing. She’s nothing.” Callum repeats to himself, in an effort to reduce the woman he loves to a disembodied object. It’s a tactic used by many to reason away treating other human beings like animals. The Jews of the Holocaust were referred to as ‘rats’ by the Nazis. Black people were depicted as ‘monkeys’ during the slave trade and colonial era (and sometimes they still are). The Tutsis killed in the tribal genocide in Rwanda were called ‘cockroaches’. The same word was employed by Katie Hopkins to describe the refugees that drowned in the Mediterranean in 2015. The fact of the matter is, when people are stripped of their humanity, it is much easier to justify killing them or treating them with less, or little, dignity. That’s why today, we say 'Black lives matter' – for so long, black people were not even seen as human. In the United States, for a long time, black people were only seen as constituting three-fifths of a human being.

The very thing that the Crosses do to the Noughts – in treating them as naught – Callum is doing to his Cross girlfriend.

But two wrongs don’t make a right.

Callum knows that, deep down. Yet, with everything he has, he tries to fight his conscience. Avoid eye contact. Avoid talking to her. But that doesn’t change anything: Sephy is still there, and she is a still a human. A human being that he still loves.

And the mother and father that love her, too, will do all they can to make sure she stays alive.

I must say, this Police Commissioner is extremely annoying! Always butting in!

This wasn’t how you were going to change the world, Callum”, Sephy reminds Callum, as she sits with her back to the wall of her cell.

“Well, maybe it’s the only way left.” – comes Callum’s wistful response.

“No. It’s a choice you’re making.” Sephy replies, firmly.

This exchange is important. It gives voice to the desperation of a disenfranchised people, with centuries of oppression on their backs.

Desperation doesn’t cause only Callum and the Liberation Militia to go too far. Sephy also goes for desperate tactics in these desperate times. Angst and anger have transformed Callum and Sephy’s relationship from one of mutual love into a dysfunctional dynamic of extreme violence.

“I’m not your enemy”, Sephy tells Callum, as he retreats.

“No, you’re worse. Standing by, watching, doing nothing. All the while claiming that you love me.”

Ooh! That line from Callum! It echoes with the weight of centuries of white passivity, in the real world.

Martin Luther King Jr. talked about reaching ‘the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice’. For ‘in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.’

Callum’s words hurt her, but Sephy doesn’t argue with the validity of them.

She does argue, however, with how Callum is choosing to translate the sentiments of his mind into murderous action.

Of course, so do Callum’s mum and Sephy’s mother. The tension builds in their relationship as they seek to protect and fight for their children.

It is the same parental instinct that fuels Jasmine and Meggie that eventually causes Callum to recognise the deep error of his ways.

Callum extends his hand to Sephy, symbolising a ceasefire.

Though Callum and Sephy call a truce, that isn’t the way of Jack Dorn. Despite Kamal having stepped down from his position as Prime Minister as the LM demanded, Jack Dorn still wants further revenge.

The money for Sephy’s ransom isn’t enough for Jack Dorn.

The leader of the Liberation Militia wants power – and he cares not a jot about he gets it. Dorn relishes being the one in control when he meets with Kamal; being at the head of a hierarchy where he is usually at the bottom. He knows that where Sephy is involved, Kamal will do whatever he is instructed in order to keep her safe – Dorn knows he has Kamal right under his thumb.

It takes Jude a while to realise that his newly adopted father isn’t the man he thought he was. Jude’s panicked words to Callum show how wracked with guilt he is for not realising sooner – instead getting swept away with the tide onto the wrong shore.

The penny drops in a big way when the horrifying event that concluded Episode One, is brought into the light. Jude realises that it was, in fact, Jack Dorn, that killed their friend Danny – as he lay fighting for his life in the hospital.

Dorn feels no remorse for he did. He unashamedly states: “Danny’s death was a game-changer.”

What kind of racial justice activist kills his own people in order to bring about change? Dorn is a malignant opportunist who will go to unimaginable lengths to further his own ends.

Just how far will he go?

How does the episode end?

The series?

I’m not going to tell you. You have to watch it for yourself! Literally today, because it expires on BBC iPlayer tonight at 10pm, on the day I write this! But I will say, this a phenomenal final episode to end a phenomenal series.

Thank you for reading my reviews - I hope you have enjoyed them and enjoyed the show!

All six episodes of Noughts + Crosses are available to watch on BBC iPlayer and various other streaming services outside of the UK. Go and watch it! I've tried not to give away any key spoilers!

Noughts + Crosses: A Review of the 3rd episode of the popular BBC drama series

Rating: 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐

Before reading, make sure you watch the first and second episodes of Noughts + Crosses, and read my reviews of them (here and here)! The below review contains a few spoilers as to what has already happened so far in the series…

The third episode of Noughts + Crosses is my least favourite so far, although the show is most certainly a class act.

Perhaps one of the reasons I am less raving about this episode is that it makes fewer salient points about the dichotomy of the “superior” and subjugated. That is not to say that they are not present – but in this episode, it is interpersonal relationships that come to the fore, and less so structural relationships.

With that said, the very first few words we hear in this episode are uttered by a university lecturer, who boldly proclaims before his class that:

“When the Aprican settlers first came to Albion, they were faced with a country in chaos.”

Does that type of rhetoric seem in any way familiar to you?

“Settlers”. Settlers, or invaders? Plunderers? Looters? 

When we talk about Americans in the modern-day, we rarely speak of Native Americans. The standard of Americanness we most typically see represented is Caucasian. We do not speak of “European Americans”, but “Asian-American” and “African-American” are staple terms. Why is this? Because white Americans are seen to be the standard. Those with a greater right to be there than anyone else. Settlers. The reality is that Christopher Columbus did not “discover” America, the indigenous peoples were already there. They were slaughtered and displaced from their land - and then the invaders called themselves “Americans”.

In the dystopian world of Noughts + Crosses, Apricans behave in much the same way. The Crosses determine themselves to be those with the right to be there. The Noughts are worse than an inconvenience to them.

The Crosses legitimise their dehumanisation of the Noughts by convincing themselves that they saved the Noughts from “their own worst tendencies”. They tell themselves that Albion was “a country in chaos” before the wonderful saviours arrived.

This mirrors the notion of the white saviour complex, visible in our world today. This complex can be found in literary writings: some of those I had to study at university would refer to “the civilised world” – by which they mean the white world. You can also spot the white saviour complex in short-term missionary trips where white Westerners clamour to take photos with little black children – excited to post them on their social media feeds once they return.

In an effort to make Crosses the heroes of the story, Sephy’s professor states, with no shame: 

“An ongoing, brutal civil war had left many of its [Albion’s] barbaric inhabitants dying of plague or starvation.”

“Barbaric”. No doubt we are used to seeing that word used in racist rhetoric, just to describe a different racial group.

Sephy has transformed the naïve, privileged Cross girl she was when we first met her. Now, she challenges her professor with no shame.

She does get in trouble for it, though. But with the Home Secretary as her father, she doesn’t pay too hefty a price.

Not that Kamal Hadley, Sephy’s father, appreciates her moral commitment to equality for Noughts. He gets a bee in his bonnet when it is announced that Noughts will for the first time ever, be allowed to publicly celebrate their traditional festival, Midsummer. He’s a bit pathetic.

Kamal has the same idea in his head that the inventors of classical racism had: that one race is intrinsically superior, and other races are inherently inferior – and thus equality is not the modus operandi.

In this world of systemic oppression, it is difficult for Noughts to occupy much space.

When Ryan, Callum’s father, struggles to find a new job, his son Jude asks:

Though only afforded a few lines in the script, this point is striking. In the reality of our world, in white-majority countries such as the UK, “foreign-sounding” names have been proven to make the lives of those who carry them more difficult. It is more difficult for someone with a “non-English-sounding name” to get an interview or sometimes a place on an educational course. In this dystopian world, the Noughts are the group who are systematically denied a place at the table.

The Complexity of Interpersonal Relationships

The love story between Callum and Sephy continues to be spun in this episode.

Relationships take centre stage in this episode. Not just the romance between Sephy and Callum – we see a number of interpersonal relationships fractured by friction in episode three.

The friendship between Jasmine (Sephy’s mother) and Meggie (Callum’s mother) is one of them. We see Jasmine descend into alcohol addiction and deep depression. In her hurt, she pushes her long-time employee and friend, Meggie, away – and into the shadows. 

Jasmine develops a dependency on the bottle

A stunned Meggie stands in shock after Jasmine deals her an unexpected blow

As conflict divides their mothers, Sephy and Callum too, are faced with a divide. A divide of a different nature. Notwithstanding their love for each other, the state-imposed separation of Noughts and Crosses continues to complicate the young couple’s relationship.

Callum is questioned by an officer simply for standing by Sephy in front of Danny’s memorial.

 Just as many black people are racially profiled as “suspicious”, Callum is interrogated by an officer simply because he is standing with a Cross woman – and in a district different to the one in which he lives. Reminds me of the video that surfaced a few weeks back of a white police officer stopping a black man, here in the UK, using the words “No offence to you, but you’re a black male” and “I haven’t seen you before” – thereby arriving at the conclusion that the driver must be a drug dealer.

Mirroring the racial profiling Callum is subjected to, the presumption that Noughts = trouble is the driving force for the tank that shows up at the Midsummer festival. 

The Noughts’ version of a Caribbean carnival! They look pretty harmless to me…

… But unbelievably, a military tank is deployed to police the crowds.

Racial stereotyping is evident in Jasmine’s rhetoric, too. In her attempt to urge Sephy not to attend the Midsummer festival, she lets slip some shocking hypocrisy.

Jasmine isn't exactly teetotal herself...

Expectations for women are the same in this world.

As the rift widens between Jasmine and Sephy, we see another interpersonal relationship further disintegrate: Callum and Jude’s. What happens to Callum’s brother is what often happens to a group of marginalised, disenfranchised people. Jude feels a desperate need to belong – and goes searching for his identity in the wrong place. I don’t know about you, but I actually feel pity for him.  

Jude seems to seek approval from Jack Dorn in the way one might seek approval from a father.

This episode sees Jude and Callum pitted against each other in a way we have never seen before.

Lekan, Sephy’s now ex-boyfriend, has a part to play in that. He pulls a ruse that nearly costs Jude his life. Realising that Mercy Point will never truly be for him and his people, Callum decides to walk away.

In the chaos of their divided world, Callum and Sephy find comfort and solace in each other.

A bit too much comfort and solace, if you know what I mean.

As they are doing the deed (not shown, thankfully), Meggie bumps into someone on her way home who personifies the ghosts of Kamal’s past. Yaro. Yaro is played by Luke Bailey. Sorry to say, but Bailey is the worst actor in an otherwise pretty stellar cast. I don’t know what accent he is supposed to be speaking in, but if it is meant to be a Nigerian accent, it isn’t a very good one. 

Yaro and Meggie’s exchange doesn’t last long. Then comes the awkward and laughable moment in which Meggie finds her son and Sephy upstairs. The contrast between this moment and the one shown in the still below, is striking.

Jasmine’s hospitalisation brings into focus the importance of family. It causes Sephy, her sister Minerva and their father Kamal, to reassess their priorities.

Meanwhile, trouble begins to set on Jude and Callum’s relationship. Jude is less than impressed when he learns that Callum and Sephy are seeing each other.

Some might say the same about Callum! ;)

Callum’s reaction to a drastic decision that Jude has made, on the other hand, provokes a much more volatile response. The directions the two have decided to take in response to racial injustice are diametrically opposed.

Let’s just say, this episode is full of drama.

Watch it.

All six episodes of Noughts + Crosses are available to watch on BBC iPlayer and various other streaming services outside of the UK. Go and watch it! I've tried not to give away any key spoilers!

Noughts + Crosses: A Review of the 2nd episode of the popular BBC drama series

Rating: 4.5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (I can't find a half-star!)

Before reading, make sure you watch the first episode of Noughts + Crosses, and read my review of it! The below review contains a few spoilers as to what happened in episode 1…

Noughts + Crosses pulls no punches. Right from the beginning of this episode, just as in the pilot, we are uncomfortably dragged into a world where the tides of anger never ebb. In this episode, we see Callum take his place at Mercy Point, the military school into which he has been accepted. He is very much in the minority: this is the first year that Mercy Point has desegregated and allowed both Crosses and Noughts to enrol. The commanding officers there won’t let Callum and the other Noughts forget that their presence is unwelcome.

This is the type of aggression that Callum regularly has to deal with.

Let’s just take a minute to appreciate the title sequence which appears in every episode of Noughts + Crosses. Accompanied by impressive music, black and white skin melds together, a visual demonstration that opposites can attract and beautifully harmonise together, just as both the black and white keys on a piano produce scintillating chords.

The title sequence depicts the idealistic version of relationships between Noughts and Crosses. In the dystopian reality of Albion, Sephy and Callum – and any others that represent a fusion between these two dichotomic worlds, are forever at war with the system. Peace can never be theirs.

Once the title sequence is over, the charged voice of Jack Dorn, leader of the Liberation Militia, carries over to us. In stark contrast to the fury in his voice, we are presented with the stunning landscape of Albion. The dominant figure of a black woman with her head swathed in a headtie reminds us that we are in a world in which Aprican (inspired by ‘African’) culture reigns. It is worth noting that traditionally, many Sub-Saharan African traditions celebrate the mother figure. This attention to detail is impressive. Set designer Karl du Preez does a marvellous job, if you ask me! (Interesting fact: the show was actually filmed in South Africa.)

This is London as you’ve never seen it before.

The words of Jack Dorn are potent and pertinent to the reality we find ourselves facing today:

“The establishment and its Aprican masters showing more distress over the destruction of Cross property than the death of a young Nought man.”

Sound familiar?

Superb Social Commentary

Sephy is less naïve in this episode than she was in the first. She takes the courageous step of pointing out to her father, the Home Secretary, that one set of rules apply to Noughts, and another to Crosses. When Noughts gather together peacefully and “try to exercise [their] right [to speak freely], the riot police show up.” The same is not so for the ruling race.

Callum can’t even sleep on his own mattress at the military academy: the Crosses there soak it in wee. This type of overt and nasty racism exists alongside regular micro-aggressions, such as the one that Callum’s friend Elaine receives from the idiot (excuse my language) that is Lekan:

“So Elaine… is it true? Nought women in bed? People say you’re pretty crazy.”

Noughts + Crosses doesn’t just tackle racism. It makes room for other complex societal ills in its storytelling. The above quote is an example of how the show recognises and addresses intersectionality: when racism and sexism intersect, the discrimination factor is squared.

Racism is evident in almost every shot in this show. In the scene where Sephy Hadley and her family travel to Mercy Point’s passing-in parade, several Crosses surround their car with placards emblazoned with the words “NOUGHTS OUT”. Sephy and Callum’s father Ryan are forced to halt their pleasant catch-up as they arrive at the entrance: there is one entryway for Crosses and another for Noughts. Ryan is forced to undergo a security check, as are all the other Noughts, and Sephy is left to walk freely. Remind you of anything? Disproportionate stop-and-search rates, anyone?

Once the parade begins, we hear the rhythmic beat of the talking drum echo through the air. The talking drum originates from West Africa and comes in many various forms.

What a stunning plethora of colourful traditional outfits!

The call and response of the commanding officer to his soldiers sounds a lot like Yoruba.

Let’s talk about hair.

Noughts + Crosses does not leave any stone unturned! Black hair is a topic in itself. Historically and in the present day, the tightly-curled tresses of people of African descent has been shamed, called 'ugly', 'untameable', 'unprofessional'… Meanwhile, silky European hair has been overvalued and presented as the standard of beauty to follow. As a result, many businesses have profited off creating products which claim to 'subdue'natural Afro hair so that women in particular, may better assimilate into society and better meet the prescribed beauty standard. Of course, in Noughts + Crosses, our present-day reality is turned upside down! See how both the Nought men and women wear traditionally African braided styles? Not a coincidence!

“We must be careful not to become too homogenised”, says Kamal Hadley, Sephy’s father, as he delivers the address. “Protect your identity”, he utters, painstakingly enunciating each word so we clearly understand his meaning: Do not mix with these Noughts too much, Crosses.

The words “E se gan” – ‘Thank you very much’ in Yoruba, ring out from the stage. Once again, I must say that it would be nice to have other African languages depicted in this show. Nigeria is one country in Africa’s vast landscape, and Yoruba is just one of many languages native to Nigeria. Perhaps the bias is owing to the writer of the show, Lydia Adetunji, who has Nigerian – and specifically Yoruba – heritage.

It is around this time that the triangle between Lekan (Sephy’s boyfriend), Sephy and Callum begins to trace its lines. 

There is no doubt that in this triangle, it is Callum that has the most to lose. Despite her position, Sephy is bold (though surreptitious) with her attentions to Callum. Callum is much more cautious.

Lekan detests Callum and all Noughts, and he is not afraid to show it.

The racial stereotypes that he holds are evident: “Must be nice to get two whole days for getting drunk on street corners, playing with wild Nought women”, he tauntingly shouts at Callum, before being told that Callum’s weekend off is due to his friend’s funeral…

Interestingly enough, although Home Secretary Kamal Hadley (played by Paterson Joseph) is vitriolically racist, the Prime Minister, Opal Folami is reasonable. She calls for an independent enquiry into police brutality. Independent. The police are not called on to investigate its own misconduct, but instead are to be assessed by an outside body. Remind you of anything that should be happening in real life right now?

Although the Prime Minister of the nation, as a female, Opal Folami, too, is subjected to sexism. The men that work under her rarely heed her.

The dysfunction of male-female relationships is most evident between Lekan and Sephy, however. Lekan truly shows all the signs of a future domestic abuser. He is controlling, manipulative and paranoid. His behaviour in this episode is alarming.

In this episode, for the first time we learn something about other races in Albion, although I would contend, not enough. There is not much clarity as to the position and treatment of races that are neither Noughts nor Crosses. Callum’s father Ryan has a boss who appears to be mixed-race. Okonjo is such a totalitarian manager that he refuses Danny’s father the day off for his own son’s funeral. When Ryan confronts Okonjo, he says in disbelief to his boss: “…You’re one of us!”

This is interesting. This one line is comparable to the way in which often, when someone is of both black and white heritage, they are typically considered 'black', even though they also have 50% white heritage. (America has never had a 'black' President, they have had a 'mixed-race' one.) They are typically more accepted by the black community than the white community.

Thus, perhaps Ryan is suggesting that it is Noughts who will truly accept Okonjo, as he is of mixed heritage? Okonjo’s response indicates that he has become accepted by the Crosses only because of his financial status, and that if he associates on more friendly terms with Noughts, he will lose his position. Indeed, it seems he has come to a place of denying part of his own identity in order to fit in and be respected. Many people of colour can relate to this. The culture of assimilation. Assimilation often comes with self-denigration.

Conversely, Callum and Sephy refuse to comply with social expectations, even knowing what it could cost them. Tired of having to hide their affection for each other, they decide to go to a clandestine club for interracial couples. [You need to watch the episode; I’m not telling you everything that happens.]

The chemistry between Sephy and Callum is masterful. Both Masali Baduza and Jack Rowan do an amazing job. The pauses, the intensity of their eyes, the shyness of two young people in love… The director Julian Holmes creates a heart-warming story that becomes all the more heart-warming precisely because the two parties are prepared to risk everything just so they can be together. Reminds me of the story of Mr. and Mrs. Loving, a real-life interracial couple who decided to be together, despite interracial romances being illegal at that time in America.

Sephy and Callum, finally free to dance to their own tune

However, we soon learn that Shakespeare’s words ring true here, too: “the course of true love never did run smooth”.

I told you Lekan was paranoid…

The wrath of Lekan is truly a frightening thing.

You need to watch this episode.

Let’s just say the triangle gets a little more complicated as the minutes pass. Sephy begins to realise that this love thing isn’t going to be as easy as she thought.

The drama that takes place in that club is contrasted by the stillness of Danny’s funeral, a few minutes later. The ritual of Danny’s interment is much like Egyptian mummification, which of course is jarring to us today. The startling reminder that even burial customs are different for Noughts, forces us to consider how many customs we take for granted today are actually products of the West, yet have been taken on by colonised people globally.

In this episode, we see just how power-hungry Kamal Hadley is. The Home Secretary decides to strike a deal with Liberation Militia leader Jack Dorn, in an effort to both appease the Noughts and dismantle the Prime Minister’s leadership. Dorn is wary though. He knows that the plan is to give the Noughts:

“just enough rights to keep us docile. Just enough liberty to take away our rage.”

This line is unforgettable: “Would you be happy being ‘almost’ completely equal to me?” Dorn asks the Home Secretary. Hadley’s silence reminds me of the scene in which white anti-racism activist Jane Elliott says to a crowd of white people, “If you as a white person would be happy to receive the same treatment that our black citizens do in our society, please stand.” No-one stands.

Sephy: a woman with a mind of her own

Believe it or not, in this episode, Sephy finally sees the light. She cuts ties with Lekan.

The guy is so narcissistic, he tells her that she can’t break up with him, for apparently: “We don’t do this.” Reminds me of Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice: he just doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word “no”. 

Well, that's what I call a clapback.

It seems one set of rules apply to men, and another to women. Oh, wait, that isn’t just a Noughts + Crosses thing...

This episode is an intriguing follow-up to the pilot episode, and excels in its character development, storytelling, set design and social commentary. Watch it.

All six episodes of Noughts + Crosses are available to watch on BBC iPlayer and various other streaming services outside of the UK. What are you waiting for?