Foluso Agbaje Writes About the Cracks Beneath Perfect Families

“You know when people say, e shock me o? That was me when I realized the kind of book I was writing.”

Foluso Agbaje did not set out to write a crime novel. At least not consciously. But somewhere in the process of writing The Talk of the Party, her second novel, the story began to tilt. What started as a family drama developed sharper edges, brushing up against something darker and more unsettling.

Set in the long shadow of protagonist-matriarch Bukola Obanile’s 60th birthday, the novel is structured around anticipation. Agbaje first attempted the story years earlier during her maternity leave, but that version stalled. It wasn’t until after publishing her debut novel, The Parlour Wife, that she returned to it with more clarity.

Part of what animates the book is a familiar curiosity: the desire to look behind polished surfaces. Why do stories like Big Little Lies and The White Lotus, about wealth, power, and seemingly perfect families, keep pulling audiences in? Agbaje’s answer is direct: “We assume people have what they have because they deserve it. That their wealth means moral correctness. That assumption is very human. But we are also curious about what happens behind the curtain, all the skeletons in the closet. It dispels that myth for us, and it just makes them more interesting as characters. That’s what makes this particular genre so fascinating.”

In The Talk of the Party, that curiosity is spread across a wide ensemble, from the Obanile children to the staff who orbit their world. The latter, she insists, are not peripheral. “You cannot tell the story of a wealthy family without the people who make that life possible. They are part of the system, even though they may appear invisible within it. I worked in corporate for a really long time, until last year, and I always tell people I couldn’t have done that job as a mom without the amazing nannies that I employed. These people deserve recognition and appreciation. I was also inspired by my favourite show Downton Abbey in balancing that dichotomy of the different lives the rich and poor can live in the same household.”

What compelled her most to write the story, she says, was the illusion of parental perfection.

“One of the themes I really wanted to explore is how, growing up, you have this perfect image of your parents, and then as you get older, you realize they are also figuring it out, just like you. They’re flawed. Being a parent myself, I now know what’s happening behind the scenes, what I am struggling with.”

Bukola’s identity as a mother buckles under the weight of expectation, fear, and legacy.

“Every mother is flawed,” Agbaje says. “The only perfect one, if you go by religion, is the Virgin Mary. Every other person is figuring it out. Children need to learn grace for their parents, and parents also need to give their children grace. Nobody is getting it perfectly right.” This tension is exemplified in Koko, Bukola’s daughter, who is often hard on her mother but begins to understand the complexities of motherhood as her own children come of age. When she is called into her son David’s school over his involvement in sharing explicit content, she is forced into unfamiliar territory, even joining a forum for parents navigating similar issues. “I wanted to show that you can do everything right and your children will still make mistakes, just like your parents did, and just like you do. Koko is a perfectionist. She’s very hard on herself. She wants to do everything perfectly, but nobody can do that.”

If the novel returns to any idea repeatedly, it is grace, not as an abstract virtue but as something to be constantly practiced. “We are quick to ask God for grace, but very slow to extend it to people,” she says. She points out how easily small disappointments harden into assumptions. “When a friend doesn’t call you on your birthday, you think of the worst-case scenario. We rarely pause to consider what they may be struggling with in their own lives.”

The book closes on a quieter note, with Anjola, one of its most burdened characters, reciting the Serenity Prayer for comfort. “She is the one who has been affected the most by her family’s secrets. She has the most forgiving to do. She is living out the consequences of her parents’ actions in real time. It’s important that she moves on and forgives, or she will never have peace of mind”.

She hopes readers take something specific from that arc. “Forgiveness is often more for you than for the people who wronged you. It’s what you need for your own well-being.” When asked what she thinks her work reveals about her mindset, Agbaje pauses to reflect. “I’ve realized that life is not mathematics. Things do not always resolve cleanly or make sense. We can’t force people or situations into neat boxes. Things won’t always go according to plan, and we need to be okay with that.”

An adaptation of The Talk of the Party, she adds, would be welcome. “I would love it. I think it would work better as a limited series than a movie because of the multiple characters and points of view. I just want the best actors to do it justice.” She indulges herself in just one dream casting:

“Sharon Ooja for Lala,” she says, laughing. “She’s so beautiful, she has the chops, and I think she would be a perfect fit. I always imagined her as the character while writing.”

She is already at work on her third book. “There are so many stories I want to write, and I know it’s a privilege to do this. I don’t want to lose momentum, so I’ve gotten right to it. It’s looking like another thriller. Very different, but very exciting!”