‘I have something to say about ‘Americanah’ too!’

The weather is cool, the same way it was when I was about to pick up ‘Americanah’ to read. ‘Americanah’ starts as a brilliant piece. I fell in love with the characters of Ifemelu and Obinze together. Individually, I felt that for some reason they were untrue to themselves. They didn’t strike me as believable by themselves. But together, they were explosive. They were alive. Their conversations were true; their actions even truer.

They were the sole reason I wanted to finish the book after I had started. That explains volumes.

‘Americanah’ talks predominantly about these four issues: race, hair, love, immigration. For this reason, if you happen to be passionate about any of these themes you would want to finish the novel for it. The book drags them to the end.

Starting with hair. Later, love. Then, culture. Race appears. Immigration too. Then, love finishes it up.

‘Americanah’ became boring in a little while. I enjoyed the relationship with the black academic but of all her relationships (Ifemelu) excluding Obinze of course. I liked Curt.

Chimamanda wrote too intellectual. This statement makes me sound a little too immature as a reader but I’ve decided to say it anyway. The read is complex, full of analysis upon analysis. There were certain parts that she should have left the analysis for us. I expected her to give us the power to think, to have an opinion for ourselves. I wished she gave us that privilege.

I cannot continue this review without mentioning/comparing this fine work with her previous. I remember her in an interview talking about a woman that had said to her that she would never be able to match the novel ‘Half of a Yellow Sun’. I never believed that statement. I waited patiently for seven years for this book. And regrettably, at a corner of my heart, I silently nurse the conclusion that it just might be true.

Chimamanda is my queen of African literature. This is as true to me as saying that the sky is blue. As always, her narrative is beautiful, her storytelling always engaging; her mind always provoking. She lectures you in a way that makes you ask yourself ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ She brings out the child in you. She brings it out in a motherly way. As you read this novel, you marvel at her prose work.

Read Americanah. Buy Americanah. You might not love it. It’s fine. But surely, you’ll enjoy it.

 

 

The Wonder

christmas 2007 (Photo credit: paparutzi)

This Christmas I learnt something wonderful from my little cousin. It is simply called the wonder of a kiss. When your heart is troubled and you are frail with the anticipation of the next second a kiss is what you need.

I was so unhappy this Christmas not because I didn’t want to felicitate with the presumed birth of my Lord Jesus Christ on the contrary. Surprisingly, I enjoyed this Christmas when I was away from my immediate family. I felt the wonder of this celebration when I kissed another extended member of my family. In doing so, I was able to pass a myriad of emotions through my kiss on her cheek. Affection! Appreciation! Gratitude and love! Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said, ‘this is love; a string of coincidences that gathered much significance and became miracles.’ So, the kiss became a miracle. It became a wonder.

My little cousin walked up to me in unintended movements which led to her planting a kiss subtly on my cheeks