Abandon God restored my faith in comedy as a remedy for despair

Responding to Ayo Adenekan and Alvin Bang: Abandon God

Ayo Adenekan

Something about Alvin Bang and Ayo Adenekan’s Fringe stand-up set, Abandon God, intrigued me immediately. From the show’s title, I imagined an hour of comedy exploring what it means to be at odds with faith and familial expectations. I found comfort in the idea that I might have something in common with the comedians, having been raised in a dual-faith household; my dad a devout Muslim and my mum a practising Christian. As the only one of their children to reject both religions, I often feel like an outcast amongst my siblings, who make no secret of their confusion around what I believe, or whether I believe in anything at all. 

With Adenekan being Black and bisexual in the overwhelmingly white city of Edinburgh, I thought his set in particular might echo my feelings about growing up in York, where my best chance of seeing a group of Black people (who I’m not related to) was at my mum’s church. Preparing to form this Response, I was excited to write about the parallels between his experiences and mine, hoping he might joke about the delicate dance we unbelievers must do to avoid disrespecting the people we love, while still honouring our queerness. 

The actual show, performed for a small audience in a cosy first floor function room at the Beehive Inn, completely defied those expectations. The comedians abandoned God, in the sense that they barely mentioned faith or religion at all, and I left feeling slightly perplexed, but more so relieved.

During the opening week of the Fringe, race and religion were dominating British headlines and my headspace, while racists and Islamophobes rioted across the country. Muslims and ethnic minorities were antagonised with impunity, leaving many people afraid to leave their homes. Instead of taking the opportunity to confront the wider issues of racism, xenophobia and religious intolerance fuelled by right wing rhetoric, the media and political establishment treated the violence as though it was happening in a vacuum.

Show poster for Ayo ad Alvin Abandon God

It is hard to imagine that Bang and Adenekan weren’t affected by this, or at least that they weren’t aware of how it might have weighed on their audience. Reflecting after the show, I wondered if they deliberately skirted the topic of religion to give us all some reprieve. 

There are few art forms as intimate and vulnerable as stand-up comedy. Taking to the mic and inviting an audience of strangers to see the world as you do, turning anecdotes of struggle into witty social commentary, taking pain and making punchlines isn’t an easy thing to master. A good comedian can tread the line between sincerity and satire without over-indulging in self-pity or patronising their audience. The best comedians can read a room or a cultural moment and adapt accordingly. I could understand why either comedian might not want to joke about “how to escape your religion”, as the show’s description claims, while Muslims all over Britain were being targeted because of their religion. 

Even at the best of times, I am careful about how I talk about my family’s faith, because I never want to give the impression that I am ashamed of them, or their belief systems. At times like these, I become almost defensive about my religious upbringing, which is a weird paradox considering how unaccommodating both Islam and Christianity are to my queerness. I can’t say exactly how I would have reacted, had Abandon God been the show I was expecting to see, but I do know it would have brought up many conflicting feelings that I was too overwhelmed to process in that moment. 

Rebelling against religion strengthened my sense of self and my sense of humour, but it was through religion that I first learned the power in congregation and collective spaces of solace. As Adenekan and Bang performed, I was able to set aside my anxiety and escape in the catharsis of communal laughter. Buoyed by the whimsical storytelling, I was no longer consumed by the chaos that was going on around the country, my sense of hopelessness began to fade. 



Ayo Adenekan and Alvin Bang: Abandon God, Scottish Comedy Festival @ The Beehive Inn - Beehive 1 (The Lounge), until 25 Aug, 18:30

Memuna Konteh

Memuna Konteh is a London-based Freelance writer, Journalism graduate and former data analyst. She enjoys writing everything from cultural commentary and literary reviews to political think-pieces and explainers. Areas of special interest include, race and representation, women's sport and urban music.

Twitter: @MemandMs | Instagram: @memkonteh

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