She carried the burden of guilt, thinking about all the things she could have done to avoid her brother's dying, blaming herself for even starting the chain of events that led to his death.
She carried the burden of guilt, thinking about all the things she could have done to avoid her brother's dying, blaming herself for even starting the chain of events that led to his death.
They had a tradition of earning armchairs in the house. This meant that no wife had a comfortable seat. You were not entitled to one unless you were pregnant, breastfeeding, or watching over toddlers.
Though the book is set in Lagos and London, it's a reality most of us can relate to from anywhere in Africa. There is something in there, an experience or anything for everybody.
Unfortunately for Kemi, her worst fears were confirmed. She was only a redundant body in a ceremonial role. Jonny poached Kemi for her skin color to represent diversity in a predominantly white company. It wasn't for her brilliance; neither was it for her experience. It was for her skin color.
I haven't lived in London before, but I'm not sure that Africans in London who are almost working-class or working-class by association can afford to eat from the buka every week and also afford takeouts as huge as what Ronke always did.
A man sleeps with the maid and impregnates her, deceives the wife he claims to love, and this same wife, Ezi, is required to apologize to the husband because she has only a daughter for him while the maid has a son.
Why did I have to carry this shame like a second skin? And every day for a month after the incident, I would usually find myself whispering to myself, "I am ruined."
As an African woman, I have lived in shame, and shame has lived in me. I told myself I was keeping my virginity for my husband. I needed to be a virtuous woman to be appreciated, I did not know what virtue meant, and honestly, I still don't.
Niru is gay and cannot freely explore his queerness. Although he is in a country like America, the Africanness and religiosity in his parents would not let them support him. Rather they take him to pastors to pray the gay out of him.
We assume that people are either gay or lesbians, forgetting that the queer spectrum is broad and there are so many intersections. The rainbow has so many different colors, not just red and yellow.
It reminds me of a young man who once promised forever. He had been so consistent and intense in his promises of forever that I believed it, latched onto it, breathed it, and looked forward to it.
