Her increasing band of Nigerian readers showed much love to award winning writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie on Saturday, July 11, when she read from her first collection of short stories, ‘The Thing Around Your Neck,’ at the Silverbird Galleria, in Lagos.
It was a full house as guests who had no seats leaned against the rails at the reading, jointly organised by Farafina and the Silverbird Lifestyle Store. Designer Remi Lagos, writers Jude Dibia, Igoni Barrett and poet Odia Ofeimun were among the literati that came to interact with the author. Intermittent shouts of “I love you Chimamanda!” from the audience and their engagement with her on her craft, may have given the author an insight into how deeply her Nigerian readers love her.
Moderator, Molara Wood recalled her first meeting with Adichie at the Orange Prize ceremony in June 2004, in London. She said the author of ‘Purple Hibiscus’ had expressed a wish then that her books be published in Nigeria and not only abroad. Happily, Lagos based Farafina/Kachifo Limited took up the challenge of publishing the 2007 Orange Prize winner in her country of birth.
The poet, Ikeogu Oke set the tone of the evening with his reading of ‘Lest We Forget,’ a poem inspired by Adichie’s novel, ‘Half of a Yellow Sun’.
Adichie revealed her fondness for Nigerians in her opening remarks. “It’s really nice to have a readership around the world but the readership that is most important to me is the Nigerian readership.” She then read the ‘Cell One’, the first story in ‘The Thing Around Your Neck’ about a privileged young man who goes wayward and lands himself in a prison cell.
Adichie said that she used the story to show how society makes excuses for the less privileged who turn to crime but acts surprised when a privileged young man commits theft. “It raises the question, how did we get here?”
Of her book tours abroad, Adichie said, “It is very exhausting, mostly mentally exhausting. Before I started doing book tours, I longed for it. But now, I find it so tiring. But I am very glad that I have a readership.” During her tour of the UK, journalists there suggested that from the tone of the stories in the latest book (Adichie’s third) that she does not like the US very much.
But the author, who divides her time between Nigeria and the US, insisted that this was not so.
Asked why it took her so long to publish a collection of short stories, Adichie said, “I just wasn’t ready till now, I only wanted the stories I felt strongly about. I wanted only stories that I could defend in, say, 30 years after.” The writer whose works contain an appreciable amount of cultural reflections also expressed happiness that Nigerian pop music is being done in indigenous languages.
On the unapologetically ‘African’ aesthetic of her physical presentation, Adichie said: “My identity is not a costume. That I wear my hair natural is not because I wanted to please some people, it’s just that I can’t stand putting relaxer in my hair.”
One audience member mentioned that she loves writing but is not much of a reader, eliciting a response from Adichie thus: “My heart lurched when I heard that. You have to be a good reader to be a good writer; if you’re not reading then you can’t possibly be a good writer.”
She further told the aspiring writers in the crowd that the literary world feeds itself and a natural writing gift should be polished as it doesn’t fall perfect from the sky. “It’s hard work,” she declared.
A teenage student from Grange School provided one of the most touching moments of the reading. She told Adichie that her teachers had said the author’s works do not relate to the title given to them. Amidst audience chuckles, the student admitted she had read the books and did not agree with her teachers’ assessment. Adichie urged her to point this out to the teachers on return to school.
After Adichie’s reading of the title story from the book, Wood asked the author, “What next?” Adichie replied that she is superstitious and believes that if she talks about an intending work, it might never come to light. “So, I can’t talk about what I am going to do next.”
With a laugh, Adichie told a fan who accused her of writing gratifyingly and exasperatingly at the same time, that she sometimes gives away the ending of a story from the beginning; and that she does this to annoy the reader.
Seriously, she added, “Structure is really important to me because it is not the end of the journey that is important but the journey itself.” Wood corroborated this with a quote from ‘The God of Small Things’, the book by Arundhati Roy: “The secret of great stories is that there are no secrets.”
While one reader thanked Adichie for focusing on the ‘civilised problems’ in Nigeria and not the barbaric portrayal the West seems to prefer, another accused her of writing only about her hometown. “Nsukka is a town I love. If you want me to write about your hometown, then write me a formal letter,” was the author’s humorous reply.
This led to another question on how much influence the author’s upbringing has on her career and how much of her writing is influenced by her parents support.
“My parents know the difference between respect and fear. They built this confidence in me and also bought me books to read so I do owe a lot to my parents. And yes, I am here because of them,” replied Adichie, who also feels her being linked to the renowned Chinua Achebe is an honour.
“He is a writer I admire greatly and I go back to his works all the time,” she said. “But I think our writing styles are different and those who say I write like him are not able to read.” Wood asked if the comparison to Achebe was a burden. “I don’t take it that seriously so it’s not a burden,” replied Adichie.
The author of ‘Half of A Yellow Sun’ feels the tendency of mothers in sub-Saharan Africa - not just Igbo mothers - to value sons over daughters is a problem.
During the lively session where questions flew from all angles at Adichie, another person accused her of concentrating too much on Igbo culture. Unruffled, the writer replied that she writes about people and things that are true to her.
She added that using local expressions is a normal phenomenon in the writing world. “I love telling people: I wanted to confuse you by throwing in words in my language.” The author, whose works have been published in over 30 languages, was asked if she ever thought she’d have this level of success. “I never thought it was possible but now that it has happened, it is not bad,” she said with a smile.
Adichie related how her parents supported her transition to writing after studying medicine for a year and a half because they put her choice and happiness first. She also declared her belief in gender equality. “I’m a very happy feminist and believe that women should be, and are, and should continue to be heard. But even feminists should not live in denial.”
A student at the University of Nigeria who was a part of the gathering confessed that she walks past the house in Nsukka where Adichie grew up trying to relive the descriptive power of Adichie’s ‘Purple Hibiscus’. But Onyeka Nwelue, author of ‘The Abyssinian Boy’, observed that fiction writers tend to ‘fictionalise out of proportion.’ He suggested that the Nsukka he knows now is far from the university town romanticised in Adichie’s debut novel, ‘Purple Hibiscus’.
Adichie, who displayed her skill at managing a crowd, calmly replied, “The many, many joys of Nsukka has somehow bypassed you. I deeply apologise.” She, however, acknowledged that the town had declined from the time her novel was set, but added that Nwelue might appreciate Nsukka more after he leaves the town.
A question from Lolade Adewuyi about the author’s expectations of Nigeria’s youth prompted this reply: “I have hope sometimes that it’ll get better but sometimes I don’t have that hope. Nigeria is a country I find immensely irritating but I’m emotionally involved in it.” In a no-nonsense tone, Adichie said she expected young Nigerians to: stop throwing litter out from the window, to queue up properly and not cheat at exams.
An especially tender scene occurred when teenaged Josiah, clad in his school uniform, took the microphone and told Adichie: “I have been waiting for this day from the day I read the last sentence in ‘Half of a Yellow Sun’. I just want to tell you that I love you so much.”
He then requested to shake hands with the author. She obliged him, to whoops from the crowd. Asked about how if feels to be a role model later, she said, “A man once walked up to me and told me that now that I am a role model, I have to watch what I say. And I said if that is what being a role model is all about, I don’t want to be one.”
Ofeimun apologised to Adichie’s Nigerian publishers, Farafina, for purchasing the foreign edition of ‘The Thing Around Your Neck’ because he was in a hurry to read the book. He then said of Adichie, “Thank God she doesn’t write like Chinua Achebe.” He added that: her writing “is less culturally restrained and is more forward looking than anything written before about Biafra.”
Ofeimun ended the lively event. But Guy Murray Bruce of the Silverbird Lifestyle Store hit the right note earlier when he confessed to not having read any Adichie’s works. He said he was ashamed to hear the books being discussed so vibrantly when he had no clue what they were about.
He promised to go and read every single one of them. The audience rewarded Murray Bruce with a round of applause for his newfound love for Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s books.
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