Having been given a fairly detailed description of the plot of The Fishermen, I arrived at the North Wall feeling well prepared for this powerful drama, but there was so much more to this play than the initial synopsis (which I will attempt to convey without giving away too much!).

One of the greatest achievements of this show - and there were many - was the way in which it built up and maintained tension, which stayed with me long after I left the theatre. A slight downside to this was that, after the twists and turns of the main story, the conclusion felt lacking in a final cathartic moment - although this was probably very deliberate, and indeed probably responsible for the fact my heart was still thudding noticeably an hour later.

The set was minimalist and very effective: removable poles formed a fence, which acted as a boundary over which the actors crossed multiple times, representing the switching between the characters as well as transcending other, graver boundaries. The versatility of the poles (they were also used as fishing rods at points) was overwhelmingly surpassed by the corresponding versatility of the play's stars, Michael Ajao and Valentine Olukoga. Their skill in evoking a whole cast of diverse personalities was nothing short of awesome: I liked Ajao less when he was Ikenna than when he was Ben - despite the transitions between the two being so quick and frequent. Ajao and Olukoga's ability to bring to life so many characters was complemented by their deft ease with physicality, variously using dancing and gesturing to bring even more energy to their performances.

Towards the beginning, the pacing of these many transitions were as confusing as they were enjoyable, but gradually it became easier to keep abreast of what was going on - so the audience went through a transformative loss of innocence in correspondence with the characters. The Biblical loss of innocence was one of the central themes of the story, although the river the boys decide to fish in is no Eden: they remark on corpses floating past, foreshadowing what is to come on several symbolic levels. Symbolism and clues of this kind enrich the story throughout, in a way that ensures that the play would reward watching a second or even a third time, like all the best-told stories. Like many losses of innocence, there is an interplay between what happens to the children, and what they play an active role in causing: each successive mistake is a response to the last. Reflecting on the story towards the end, Ben and Obembe find different reasons to blame themselves for various links in the chain, emphasising a fatalistic inevitability reminiscent of Greek tragedies.

And much like a Greek tragedy, this piece has a timeless appeal. It doesn't matter that most members of the North Oxford audience may never have been to Nigeria, or witnessed violence of the sort explored in the play: the script's humour, psychology and exploration of family dynamics make it relatable and recognisable for many different contexts. Perhaps that is why it is so easy to compare The Fishermen to other stories: Macbeth, the Garden of Eden, Lord of the Flies - the themes of loss of innocence and the corrupting influence of others, the devastating effects of paranoia and an unhealthy relationship with 'authority' are ones which resonate across different contexts and cultures. This is a huge credit to the aims of the New Perspectives Theatre company. Bringing unfamiliar concepts to audiences in a way that is nevertheless relatable proves that such boundaries of time and geography are meaningless: we as humans aren't all so different.

Overall, this is a triumph of storytelling, skilfully employing every aspect of theatre - the dialogue, the clever set and lighting design, and the sparing use of music - to maximum effect, thanks to the direction of Jack McNamara and the adaptation of the novel by Gbolahan Obisesan (whom we will see more of in Oxford as he is one of the North Wall's new Associate Artists). I could go on for pages and pages about the different themes, which I hope is enough of a testament to how much is packed into the short running time, conveyed both in what is said and shown, and what is left to our imagination.