​LIFELESS STORYTELLERS

This is a piece of writing in response to Poetra Asantewa’s “Coroner”

(A Response to Poetra Asantewa’s “Coroner”)

Death beckons on us all at the climax of purposely arranged circumstances

Whiles Life sits idly by and mocks our struggle against fate

I have investigated by inquest hundreds of deaths not due to natural causes

Some sad. Some pitiful

Some occurring with a bang –

and some of them so pitiful, you can’t help but give in to laughter

I spend all my days hiding from the commotions of the living

I prefer to hang around the silent corpses and dead essences of once promising humans

The stories these lifeless bodies tell are so full of life, its poetry.

Yesterday, the body lying on my table told so good a story, I broke out in tears

The seeming delicacy had within its splitted hollows an artistically woven autobiography of a life lived in solitude, love and music. 

The dimensions of her story branched out in colorful embers of vicious membranes laced with tunes from a flute of African descent

Others have told tales of heartbreaks and migraines and depression smothered by injustice and tribulation that the mind can’t begin to imagine

They told stories of young humans getting caught in a web of pointless affairs and insignificant hurts of yore.

They spoke of modern butterflies plagued with curses of ancient moths and whispers of the dead.

These lifeless storytellers all have their stories spiraling in an abyss of guilt, regret, torture, shame and a lot of unanswered questions; except my dearest Afreh 

My favorite storyteller – Afreh nuamah – narrated her tale in acoustic tunes of contentment

She had a steady stream of happiness in her life story

This, she acquired through defying society and chasing after her own happiness

She sung tales of gigglish love affairs and tickling streams of pleasure ……
Dear voice seeking answers, you define your own storyline in your own handwriting

And even I, your coroner, cannot tell you your story

I can only read them within the splitted catacombs of your lifeless body.
Image source: https://goo.gl/images/Qh7sa5

PURPLE HIBISCUS

Editphoto source: mybookaffair.net

BOOK REVIEW

TITLE: PURPLE HIBISCUS
AUTHOR: CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHIE
PUBLISHER: ALGONQUIN BOOKS
PLACE OF PUBLICATION: CHAPEL HILL, US
YEAR OF PUBLICATION: OCTOBER 2003
NUMBER OF PAGES: 307
ISBN: 978-1-56512-387-8
NAME OF REVIEWER: KOFI DZOGBEWU

Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is an exceptional piece of literature that evokes unexpected emotions as the reader travels with a Nigerian family from a stable life to a very unsettling one. The novel talks about how Kambili’s father, Papa, uses verbal, mental and physical abuse on his family in the name of being a devout Catholic.

The story made me feel oppressed when I was reading, but then I realized that was Adichie’s genius. She did not mention the word ‘oppression’, nor did she describe ‘pain’ in the beginning of the story, yet  all the details she outlined made me feel like something was terribly wrong, not just in Kambili’s family, but in the country too.
The title of the novel ‘Purple Hibiscus’ is very significant and relevant to the story. The purple hibiscus in Aunty Ifeoma’s garden represents not only the clash of cultures experienced by the characters in the novel, but likewise a hope for a better future. In contrast to the startling red hibiscuses in Enugu which symbolizes a violent past, the purple hibiscuses in Nsukka represent the future. Nigeria has gained independence from the British Empire but is challenged by new conflicts in the post-colonial era. The colour red is often associated with Achike and their home in Enugu. There we find the red hibiscuses, ‘the blood on the stairs’, and Father Benedict’s robes- all red. Red often suggests anger and passion and so is perfect in keeping with the plot. In contrast, the colour purple, as in the purple hibiscuses found in Aunty Ifeoma’s house, is often associated with feelings of calmness and solitude, which is repeatedly connected to the characters of Father Amadi, Aunty Ifeoma and other positive figures in the novel.

The framework of the novel keeps the story fresh and compelling all the way through. Purple Hibiscus for me in some ways is better than Adichie’s other novel Half of a Yellow Sun in terms of personal enjoyment and the narrative style. However, some of the themes may be too strong or heavy for young children, about twelve years old and under, depending on their social maturity and reading experience. The novel is therefore recommended for adults and young adults.

I realized that in some parts of the story, Adichie’s personal ideology influenced her writing. She made some political statements in the lines ‘these are all the people (westerners in general) who think that we cannot rule ourselves because the few times we tried, we failed, as if all the others who rule themselves today got it right the first time.’ The political statements might be lost on the reader, only because Kambili’s own personal tragedy seems much more serious, urgent and dangerous.

One problem I found with the story is that even though it is about Kambili’s account on her family’s experiences, Adichie to me made it seem like the central character was Achike, Kambili’s father; whose presence loomed menacingly over almost every page even when he wasn’t featured in the scene.

Another problem I found with the novel is the absence of a glossary. Adichie failed to include a glossary for the Igbo expressions in the story. She did a good job of placing most Igbo expressions in a comprehensive context, but the reader would be frustrated when he or she wants to find the meaning of a term; the meaning of which at best is ambiguous in the context of the expression. Take for instance, the line ‘this girl is a ripe agbogho!’ on page ninety-one of the novel.

In the unfolding of her story, she introduced the reader to the customs, foods and many aspects of Nigerian life without deviating from the subject matter. This is a unique skill in creative writing which many writers fail to achieve. Adichie creates a perfect balance of being sufficiently descriptive while never allowing the descriptions to become tedious. She describes the downfall of the family both in Enugu and in Nsukka, drawing the reader gradually towards an extraordinary tragic ending.

Purple Hibiscus is a constructively judged account of the private and intimate stirrings of a young girl faced with the challenges of tyrannical power, and Adichie voices out the subject matter creatively.