Yejide and Akin have been struggling to have a child for years, shouldering overwhelming pressure from their in-laws to conceive, trying every possible solution, from herbal medicines and questionable rituals (including breastfeeding a goat) to no avail. When Yejide’s in-laws decide it’s time to bring in a second wife for Akin so he has a better chance of conceiving a child, she spirals.
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I’m loving all of the motherhood-related books I’ve been reading recently, even if this one was multiple punches in the gut. Here Adébáyọ̀ explores what it means to be a married woman and childless in Nigeria, as Yejide is driven to experiencing phantom pregnancies due to the societal pressures on her and her womb.
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Adébáyọ̀ handles the topic with incredible sensitivity, while deftly weaving in the background of political upheaval in 1980s Nigeria. But I’d say the politics takes a back seat to the personal story, which is my preferred ratio of politics to personal to be honest!
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It didn’t surprise me to learn that the author has studied writing under greats such as Atwood and Adichie, as her writing has that absorbing, lyrical quality that entices you to devour the whole lot in a day (which I did in fact do). Yet to do so is to put yourself through an awful lot of emotion in one go, as behind the beautiful writing lies a pervasive bleakness, as Yejide struggles throughout the novel.
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My one ‘complaint’ is that I preferred Yejide’s chapters, finding Akin’s to be a bit too blunt. Even so, more of the chapters of Yejide’s anyway, and towards the end I did warm to Akin’s as he opened up about his own issues, exacerbated by the intense pressure felt from his family and society as a whole to be seen as fertile.
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Overall, an emotional rollercoaster of a novel!