A good education can never be good enough when you have a bad name.
Adunni
The above quote is the sole reason this sequel to Abi Dare's The Girl with the Louding Voice exists. Adunni is back, and this time, she's returning to Ikati village to clear her name. But this time, Abi Dare explores other stories – Tia, Idowu (Adunni's mother), Labake, and a host of other girls Adunni meets; even Akala, Adunni's father, gets a bit of storytime, too.
I'll get right to the point. I didn't enjoy reading this book, which is disappointing because I liked the prequel. I know reading preferences are subjective, but if you want a heads-up, here are my reasons for giving this a 2 out of 5 rating. No spoilers included.
In my review of The Girl with the Louding Voice, I explained that while the story had been retold several times, Adunni's character was built up so well that she made an otherwise predictable plot come alive.
Adunni was strong, hopeful, and driven by her dream of education. In this sequel, however, Adunni's story pivots in an unexpected direction. The once resolute girl now returns to her village, not to advance her education but to clear her name in a murder investigation from a year ago. This felt like a step back from the character I had come to admire.
The shift in narrative, which alternates between Adunni and Tia's points of view, also weakens the character development. And Tia is an unbelievable character. Most of the characters are anyway, but because I spend a lot more time with Tia, I found myself frustrated with her role in this story.
Tia, in particular, feels scattered—she's many things, but it's hard to pinpoint her true essence. There is Tia: the resentful daughter, the hopelessly-in-love teenager, the well-meaning but ineffective champion of Adunni, the lukewarm wife, and the educated, well-to-do but hopelessly naive Nigerian.
Remember how I said Tia is a lot of things? Well, And So I Roar has a lot going, actually. As I write this, I figure the point of this story is the girl child and every sort of horror they can experience.
Abi Dare attempts to tackle a wide array of important themes: patriarchy, child marriage, rape (including an attempted child rape scene), female genital mutilation, and baby factories.
While these are significant issues, they're somewhat over-emphasized, with the story feeling overcrowded as a result. None of the themes are explored with the depth they deserve, which contrasts with the prequel's focused narrative on the education of the girl child.
It feels like every woman's struggle is crammed into this book, and instead of creating a profound, cohesive message, it ends up feeling disjointed. The story would have benefited from honing in on fewer issues and giving them the weight they deserve.
Also, climate change is another theme here. Why?
I found Abi Dare's style of writing tiring. Perhaps I didn't notice it because I listened to the audiobook version of The Girl with the Louding Voice. Here's a sample of what she writes like:
I stand, grabbing our stuff and jogging across the expense – the air so arid it cracks my lips – and stop on the path that leads into the cluster of mudbrick houses. There is a reddish brown stump on its edge, of an acacia tree, felled long ago. I stare at the intricate line of black zigzagging its ringed brown surface. Beside it, an umbrella-shaped acacia, as ancient as the village itself with gnarled roots and contorted branches snaking out of it, the tentacles of an octopus encased in a leaf pattern cloth.
Reading intense, flowery prose like this every couple of pages just made me want to put down this book.
One of my pet peeves about Nigerian authors in the diaspora is how often their writing seems tailored for a non-Nigerian audience. It is their prerogative but it just makes it harder for a Nigerian to enjoy their stories because the Nigeria in their stories might be unfamiliar to a Nigerian.
in this instance, It’s hard to make sense of how some of the characters from different parts of Nigeria—Northern, Southern, and Eastern regions—would all end up in a remote, rural village in Western Nigeria. The narrative doesn’t provide a believable explanation for this, making the setting feel disconnected from the characters' backgrounds.
And So I Roar is an ambitious book with a noble aim: to shine a light on the struggles of young Nigerian girls and the societal issues they face. However, the execution is flawed.
The story tries to do too much at once, resulting in underdeveloped characters and scattered themes. While I still respect Abi Dare's intention, I found this sequel lacking the spark and cohesion that made The Girl with the Louding Voice such a captivating read.
If the narrative had stayed more focused on character development and streamlined its themes, it might have delivered a stronger, more resonant story.
