I haven’t had the privilege, or indeed misfortune, of living in a block of flats managed (or, as this play would have it, mismanaged) by a housing association. At the surface level, this play feels a bit lazy, or as the dialogue itself admits within the first minute, “simplistic” – three people, who tell the audience they are all actors, then begin to tell a story. If ‘show, don’t tell’ is your preferred narrative technique in plays, this is, frankly, one to avoid. It does work, however, as a multi-character and multi-layered story, and I would imagine one might get quite lost in trying to remember who is related to whom, given they all live in the same block of flats, without being practically spoon-fed details. Or maybe it’s just that I find it difficult to take umbrage with a show that is easy to follow.
Perhaps predictably, it is only when the occupier in Flat 61 stops paying rent that the housing association bats an eyelid – until that point, if they bother to show up at all in response to the numerous phone calls (well into three figures by the time all is said and done), they obfuscate, procrastinate, use weasel words and come up with almost any excuse imaginable not to take action against a deeply unpleasant odour coming from Flat 61, whose occupier hasn’t been seen for some time.
What is surprising is not the denouement itself, the salient point becoming apparent long before the front door to Flat 61 is finally forced open, but rather how it was that it appears no friends or family enquired as to the whereabouts or wellbeing of Shirley, the deceased lady. Or perhaps they did contact the housing association, who fobbed them off as well. Either way, it was left to her neighbours, in particular Linda Barnes of Flat 60, who had exchanged pleasantries with Shirley but not much else, to raise the alarm.
Very much a city story for city dwellers and city theatregoers, the play asks, without being didactic about it, how many Shirleys there could be amongst us. The story is truer than the dialogue lets on – “most things are completely made up”, we were assured in the prologue. What the cast don’t tell the audience is that there actually was a lady called Sheila Seleoane, believed to have died in late summer 2019, but whose skeletal remains were only discovered on 18 February 2022. Her downstairs neighbour really did have flies coming through her windows, and maggots on the windowsill – which explains this show’s title. Others in the block of flats were concerned because Miss Seleoane hadn’t picked up any of her letters in months, and they were piling up.
When my own neighbour went into hospital, never to return, well within twenty-four hours, her family members explained to me what had happened, and that there was, already, a plan in place to make sure her dogs were fed, watered and walked in the short-term and rehomed in the long-term. It wasn’t long before her landlord showed up, and not long after that, an extensive refurbishment began (I even took my laptop to the local library on one occasion for all the hammering and drilling next door). The contrast couldn’t have been starker. As far as this show goes, there are so many unknowns that, on balance, the idea that this is mostly a work of fiction holds water.
This might be more than a little strange, and perhaps to some, a tad inappropriate, but there is some humour that creeps into the dialogue. Life, after all, must carry on, and there is indeed some absurdity in the bureaucratic hoops the neighbours find themselves navigating. The story proceeds at a moderate pace: not the breakneck pace that London sometimes goes at, but the kind of pace commensurate with people who have come back to their homes after a day at work and are ready to relax. An intense and thoughtful experience that will stick in the memory for some time.
Review by Chris Omaweng
‘She scrubs desperately. Fervently. Furiously. The filth is in the walls and she can feel it in her bones and under her skin.’
As the stench in their building intensifies and infestations spread, a lonely group of tenants starts to ask questions.
But when the housing association barely lifts a finger in support and pest control “don’t deal with maggots”, the neighbours are left to grapple with their suspicions and fears alone – blurring the boundaries of their usually private lives in the process.
Cast: Sam Baker Jones, Marcia Lecky, Safiyya Ingar
Writer – Farah Najib
Director – Jess Barton
Set and Costume Designer – Caitlin Mawhinney
Lighting Designer – Peter Small
Composer and Sound Designer – Duramaney Kamara
Casting Director – Fran Cattaneo
Producer – Jessie Anand
Production Manager – Adam Jefferys
Stage Manager – Rose Hockaday
MAGGOTS
Bush Theatre
27 January to 28 February 2026
