I decided to read The Hundred Wells Of Salaga on a friend’s recommendation. He wouldn’t shut up about Wurche, one of the characters in the book (you will know why later in my review or when you read the book).
More so, he was stunned by how historically infused the book was. I had read from Harruna. Particularly Harmattan Rain, and I knew my friend could be right about the history part. I remember obsessing about how accurate and vivid the whole Kwame Nkrumah and the independence declaration scene in that book felt. I remember I had to ask her during Pagya 2020 how she [Harruna] achieved that just to satisfy the burning curiosity in me. “I researched and read a lot” was her answer (among others). I nodded, thinking this hard work paid off.
One thing you can trust Harruna with is history and weaving it into a beautiful tale that feels like you are there in the moment, watching it all happen. She’s so good with it! When I made it a point to read The Hundred Wells Of Salaga, I had high expectations. Besides, I was reading because, first, I am working on a project that needed a lot of history infusion, and I thought, why not learn from the best, and second, I just wanted to read and be swept off my feet once again by the author.
Now, were any of these desires fulfilled? I would say yes!
Well, to be fair, my answer wasn’t this bold and certain when I started the book. The first few chapters, to me, weren’t really what I expected them to be. I am not sure what was really wrong, but I knew I wanted to give up. However, I let the trust I had in the author guide me forward. I was later proved wrong. I had underestimated the book. The story improved after the first few pages, continued well through the middle, and concluded strongly. There, I feel, you would see more of Harruna in those parts.
It is as if, at that point, she got comfortable; she owned the story. The story reeled forward to knit a very intriguing tale of power struggles, love, forgiveness, hope, and, of course, a blend of culture and history!
You can read more about the book HERE
I have decided to focus my review [this time] from a different lens. I loved this story in the end that I binged read through. I would love to talk about the subject matter, themes, what worked, and what didn’t as I do with most reviews, but throughout my reading, I couldn’t help but take notes of the elements that accompanied the storytelling—Nature, slavery, etc.
And so here I am trying to do a bit of ecocriticism as I have been obsessed with the subject lately. This is not a research paper on the theory or the book. Here, I try to talk about the book only by looking at how nature—the environment and its in-betweens—has been presented in the book and why this book makes for an ecocritical reading.
Ecocriticism is the study of literature and the environment from an interdisciplinary point of view, where literature scholars analyze texts that illustrate environmental concerns and examine the various ways literature treats the subject of nature. (Wikipedia)
As Cheryll Glotfelty puts it in the introduction to The Ecocriticism Reader,
Just as feminist criticism examines language and literature from a gender-conscious perspective, and Marxist criticism brings an awareness of modes of production and economic class to its reading of texts, environmental critics explore how nature and the natural world are imagined through literary texts.
[You will benefit more from this type of criticism if you research more on it. ]
Now, as I mentioned early on, since this is more of a review than a paper, I will focus on some instances that the author uses nature in the book, how it was portrayed, and treated, look at some of the underlying meaning of these instances from an ecocritical angle and then conclude on the importance of giving nature relevance in literature today especially when conversations are still being had on global warming.
Nature is important to us. The natural world is an unbelievable mystery that strengthens all of us. It supports our economy, our environment, and our very lives.
Because nature is free, we often take it for granted and overexploit it. We clear forests, overfish oceans, pollute rivers, and build over wetlands without taking into account the impact this will have. By not taking into account the benefits we get from nature, we create huge social and economic costs for ourselves.(WWF)
Where is the lie? We live in an age where very few people care for or about the natural world and the environment. Cooperations, movements, etc, have been set up to fight this before nature fights back. The fight is still on, and authors in their works can help in the fight for the protection and preservation of the environment.
How does Harruna achieve that?
The first mention of nature is in the first chapter.
The caravans could come at dawn. The caravans could come when the sun was highest in the sky. The caravans could come when midnight had cloaked everything in velvety blue. The only sure thing was that the Sokoto caravans would come well before the end of the dry season. But now, that had changed. For weeks, Aminah and the rest of Botu were not even sure the caravans would come at all. Even though rain clouds had not yet emptied, lightning lit up the sky in the distance, and thunder boomed. The grass had already started to grow tall.
Here, the reader is immediately thrust into the beauty that is nature, and even more importantly, how important the environment is to us. In the above scene, aside from the beautiful, yet frightful, portrait the author creates with her words, we can also see how nature, the seasons to be specific, was used as a tool for telling the time in Botu.
They used nature to mark the arrival of the Sokoto caravans (that they came before the end of the dry season), and they knew something was amiss when it was the rainy season and they hadn’t come. More about nature being a “time-teller”, we would find Aminah on page 125 in Wofa Sarpong’s house telling time with the number of dry seasons she had witnessed.
“When the dry, dusty winds blew in from north of Botu, they sapped the earth of moisture, cracked lips, wrung the skin of sweat, and left behind a cold that chilled the bones. The dry winds had arrived in Wofa Sarpong’s land, but here they met the wet heaviness of the forest and fought a strange battle in which neither won. It was the girls who suffered. Especially Aminah. This was the second dry season since Wofa Sarpong had brought her to his farm, which meant she had lived there for almost two years.”
From the opening chapter, we are thrown into a more contrasting scene, a brief mention of what is to come, and how human actions would soon become an enemy to the environment.
And there was talk of horsemen getting closer. Horsemen who razed everything to the ground.
This was where the problem of actions that hurt the environment was presented. Before this line, the author had successfully introduced us to how beautiful nature can be, the power it wielded—from the sun, to the velvety blue of the midnight, to the rains, to the booming sounds of the thunder, to the greenness of the growing grass. But that would be short-lived because the Horsemen would come to raze all that to the ground.
This dreadful action materialized when the horsemen raided Aminah’s village, Botu, leaving it behind at the mercy of a huge fire that was sure to destroy the environment while it worked.
The captives trooped single file, and when Aminah looked back, the whole village was engulfed in flames. Above them, the sky was cool and blue and indifferent, the moon haloed by wisps of white cloud. (pg. 56)
A huge piece of char flew into the sky. The bright red fire ate everything, the smoke choked them, burned their eyes…(pg. 56)
“The village was burning up. They felt the heat even after the tallest tree appeared to be the size of a small branch. Nothing would survive a fire like that.” (pg. 57)
Given the employment of pathetic fallacy, adding to the dreadful and sorrow-filled moment, you find comfort in the fact that nature is something sympathetic with us. Another power nature has.
The crickets sang their same song: Kreee-kreee-kreee” (pg. 57)
Even before this incident, we are taken on a journey to Wurche’s life and how she and the family ended up on Etuto’s farm, the farm described as “unfruitful”. Yet, the importance of this “unfruitful” land is realized.
A small forest marked the lower boundary of Etuto’s farm, and next to it was a waterhole. At the upper end, the soil grew drier and stonier. The sparse land of the farm stretched on forever, and yet, the feeling one got there was not unlike being cornered in a small, dark room.
Back to Aminah’s journey as a slave, we are exposed to more of nature’s gifts. There was this ethereal feeling that engulfed Aminah when she saw this place, although brief. She forgot all the pain she was in just to enjoy the sight nature presented her. She found comfort in them. That is another power of nature.
After walking for what must have been a week, like they were never going to stop, they arrived at a place unlike any other they had crossed. Rocks jutted up from the ground, and trees grew everywhere. Okra-green grass carpeted the land, and even in her despair, Aminah found the green fresh and beautiful, the rocks mesmerizing. Not far off, vultures flew in circles. (pg 74)
The author’s description of nature presented more than just a visual description; it felt like an ode to nature.
They arrived at a forest of trees with trunks like paths to a sky covered by thick leaves. They heard rustles, whistles, chirps, ribbits, trills, clucks, and barks. The noises grew louder, as if the forest’s animals were closing in on them.” (pg 78)
The sky darkened and trees that had seemed sturdy swung from left to right. After about two hours of traveling, the land grew familiar. The forest was now behind them, the grass grew tall, and baobab and dawadawa trees popped up in bursts. Dawadawa. It was a divisive spice at home. Na’s and Eeyah’s favourite. Hers, too. She missed pounding the caked locust beans into dust, as they unleashed their fermented smell into the air, one that Baba and the twins despised. She found that here her memories were less tinged with sadness. She even smiled at the gnarled baobab branches, now bare of leaves and fruit.
There was also the promotion of afforestation, where Wurche recalled when Mma told her they planted trees when they were young.
She got down first, helped Aminah off, and tied Baki to a tree. The trees, taller now, were arranged in straight lines—Mma said she and her friends had planted them as girls. She looked up at the canopy of the trees and remembered Fatima’s enthusiastic claps whenever Wurche finished a speech.
After the second war in Salaga, we were once again faced with nature in its vulnerable state.
Patches of black and brown had replaced the beautiful green that had once covered the forest’s floor. Trees that had once seemed grand were now dry, charred at the roots.
Throughout the book, nature was given a fair representation by the author. More of Nature’s secrets were unravelled. We found that nature could give us the needed solace we craved in times of hardship. We realize our being is dependent on nature, and so protecting it is a call of mankind.
Until next time, I hop onto the next book.
However, I look forward to reading The Deep Blue Between by Ayesha Harruna Attah. After reading the blurb of the book, I ask, is The Deep Blue Between a sequel to Hundred Wells Of Salaga? Is Hassana [more so the twins] the very ones we know from The Hundred Wells Of Salaga? Do they share any similarities? How are they different?
