About 12 weeks ago, after watching the first two episodes of Shuga Mashariki Season 2, I promised to follow up with a complete review. This is a show, the first season, that I still consider to be one of the best young adult dramas in Africa.
Yet those early episodes of Season 2 left me uneasy. Some decisions felt shaky, even illogical. Now, having seen all eight episodes, I can finally weigh in on what worked, what confirmed my fears, and why this season feels so different from the first.
Season 1 was almost perfect in balancing purpose and entertainment. It carried the weight of social and sexual health themes while still being engaging enough to binge in one sitting.
Season 2 slows everything down. It’s built on the fallout of the events of Season 1, forcing characters to confront consequences rather than chase new thrills. That shift changes the rhythm of the show entirely.
Performances
The strongest element of Season 2 is the cast. Matthew Ngugi, Serah Wanjiru, Basil Mungai, Juliebrenda Nyambura, Fridah Mumbe, Wilson Muchemi, and many others return, and their performances and direction carry the season. The writing is weak, often oversimplified, sometimes clumsy, but these actors elevate the material. They bring emotional weight to scenes that could have collapsed under poor scripting.
Fridah Mumbe’s arc is especially important. Her character drives much of the season’s emotional core, and Episode 8 opens with a moment that should have been the season’s opening scene. New additions like Vanessa Okeyo Aika, Marima Wanjiru, Natalia Kyalo, and Jenny Muigai expand the universe with fresh energy. Their presence adds a different feel to the story, especially with the high school angle. The high school storyline, thankfully, is only a fraction of the season. Though I still don’t understand why it exists in the established universe.
Visuals and production
Visually, Shuga Mashariki remains one of the best‑shot series on the continent. The cinematography is vibrant, colourful, and glossy. Lighting and framing remain consistent with what we had in Season 1, with some very creative camera angles during certain scenes that reflect characters’ states of mind. Some transitions use panels, adding flair to scene changes. Location cards and neon title designs keep the aesthetic sharp and youthful.
Costume design is equally deliberate. Characters, for example, Juliebrenda Nyambura’s, are instantly recognisable through their wardrobe choices, which reflect personality and sometimes state of mind. While they remain eccentric, they are intentional, helping differentiate characters and support the visual storytelling.
Props and set design also remain largely consistent from Season 1, making the world feel lived‑in and believable. Language use feels authentic, with characters switching naturally between mother tongue, Sheng, and English.
I thought while Season 1 had a standout sound, Season 2 relies on various songs. The youthful energy in terms of sound is there, but nothing lingers after the credits roll. Each episode opens with a “truth or dare” sequence, which stitches the narrative together.
It’s an interesting device that helps tap into each character’s psyche, though the sequence doesn’t lead to anything substantial. In fact, I thought the idea of the team having a killer amongst them had more weight than the truth and dare sequence.
Season 2’s slower pace allows for deeper exploration of emotional consequences and development. Characters wrestle with fallout from past decisions, and the show occasionally captures the weight of those struggles.
Family dynamics, especially around the Dean’s household, add layers of drama. The direction, production values, cinematography, costumes, props, remain top‑tier.
Performances are consistently strong, with actors like Fridah Mumbe, Juliebrenda Nyambura, and Basil Mungai having more to bite on this time.
There is a love story here that I actually enjoyed. Technology plays a big part in this season than the previous one which makes for some of the most interesting moments in the show.
But…
What doesn't work
Season 2 is a downgrade from Season 1 in almost every narrative sense. The balance between message, purpose, and entertainment is lost. Where Season 1 hooked viewers with the use of the “mystery box,” Season 2 is much more conventional, formulaic, safe. Episodes lack urgency. I binged Season 1 in one sitting; I struggled with Season 2, taking almost two weeks to complete it even when I switched off my brain and looked at it for what it was, which is a sexual health material for young adults.
The writing feels artificial. Characters often speak like mouthpieces for sexual health messaging rather than real people. Instead of presenting situations and letting audiences wrestle with moral ambiguity, the show spoon‑feeds conclusions.
It leans heavily into ideology, glorifying certain situations and choices while villainising others. The guys, in particular, are painted broadly as antagonists, with little to no depth.
A lot of it feels like a progressive woman’s fantasy trip rather than an authentic look at Kenyan young people. This gender imbalance makes the show feel exclusionary, as if it’s speaking only to one side of the audience.
Drama often feels manufactured. Instead of organic conflict, we get scenarios designed to push a message, for example, there is a breakup that makes absolutely no sense. That approach strips away entertainment value.
At times, it feels less like a story and more like a lecture, a conditioning tool. The moral high ground is imposed rather than explored. That lack of challenge makes the writing lazy and creatively bankrupt.
This is just me, Mariam Bishar’s character. I thought there was a missed opportunity there, especially in religion‑based lifestyle diversification.
The ending is the weakest point. Built on the foundations of Season 1, it should have delivered a powerful and satisfying payoff for Dada. Instead, we get an incoherent finish drowned by the need to send a message rather than to complete an arc.
The resolution is illogical, underwhelming, and disrespectful to the audience’s investment. Compared to the layered ambiguity of Season 1, Season 2’s conclusion is flat and disappointing. It’s one of the worst endings I’ve seen in a show, possibly up there with Game of Thrones.
Lastly, still no Kenya Executive Producers.
Overall
Production‑wise and direction wise, Shuga Mashariki Season 2 is fantastic. Cinematography, costume design, props, and performances are all excellent. The show looks really good and the actors deliver. But writing is the backbone of any production, and here it fails. Without engaging storytelling, the season feels hollow. It forgets that entertainment is the hook that keeps viewers invested. Instead, it prioritises messaging at the expense of narrative.
Season 1 was the best young adult show I’ve seen in Africa. Season 2, despite its strengths, is one of the most frustrating follow‑ups.
It slows down to explore consequences, which is admirable and makes sense on paper, but it loses the spark that made the first season so compelling. The result is a season that looks great, is well‑acted, but ultimately feels synthetic, pretentious, and uninspired.
