Purple Hibiscus

I recently finished this novel by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie set in a turbulent time in the history of Nigeria as a dictator rises to power. I had mixed feelings as I was reading this book, especially at the start, not because I don't think it's a fabulous novel, which it is, but because I didn't really like the storyline at first. This dislike of the storyline, however, wasn't because of anything that was wrong with it, just due to the fact that what was happening to the protagonist, Kambili, at the hands of her father was so horrible that I didn't want it to happen. So what this shows us, perhaps, is that sometimes, even if you don't like the storyline, the author still manages to capture your imagination and craft a novel that is intriguing and inspires you to finish it.

Certainly, as I read on, the developments that ensued made me more interested in the story as Kambili and her brother Jaja begin to realise their abuse at the hands of their father after meeting and forging relationships with their aunt and cousins. It is through this that they are enlightened about how family life could, or rather should be; they learn about laughter and freedom; about letting themselves relax and defy their father's strict schedules for them. It was this that really changed my mind about the novel, I think because Aunty Ifeoma and her children, notably her daughter Amaka, are stronger, more confident characters than Kambili and Jaja, and so I started to feel that they would start to stand up for themselves upon realising the immorality of their father's treatment of them, something of which the reader is aware from the start.

A theme that I really enjoyed exploring throughout the novel was that of speech and silence. In social situations, Kambili is largely rendered unable to speak, mostly due to the fear that what she says could cause her father to become angry with her and, as the story is narrated through her eyes, the reader understands her frustration and being unable to express herself and have the confidence and inquisitiveness of her cousins. However, as she stays with her aunt and cousins more often and for longer periods of time, their nurturing and caring environment that inspires confidence and self-expression, she starts to learn how to convey her thoughts and feelings, and this incremental increase in her confidence becomes evident as she slowly but surely starts to become more involved in family life and convey her decisions with more assertion and authority. This is representative of her coming of age and realisation that she is allowed to be free to explore her emotions without the overbearing gaze of her father who haunts her mind. I think I like this theme so much because it is quite an emotional one at times as she learns how to overcome her self-degradation and social anxiety, allowing herself to become closer with her cousin, Amaka, who has big dreams and aspirations. There are some very touching moments between the two of them littered throughout the novel as Amaka acts as Kambili's role-model, bestowing upon her the art of curiosity and self-assertion, making this theme all the more emotive.

When I reached the end of the novel, I was once again struck by a sense of sadness; with the sense that it needs completion because there is so much of the story left. Adichie cleverly leaves the novel in the position for a sequel - something which I hope she does write as I would love to further explore how Kambili and Amaka end up living their lives! So overall, I do recommend this novel; I personally had to persevere at the beginning, but once the story opens up, it truly is very emotive and, in some respects, empowering.