Americanah by Chimamanda Ngezi Adichie is a novel that weaves in multiple countries, characters and love stories. It starts when our protagonist Ifemelu heads to a Trenton braiding salon. After thirteen years (she tells the braider it’s fifteen) of building a successful slice of the American Dream, the pull of home is too strong. Ifemelu is returning to Nigeria. Back to where her first love Obinze is now married and a father. And what’s more, she’s returning as a newly single woman.
As Ifemelu swelters for six hours in a hair salon “thick with disregard” we step into her world. Throughout the novel, time and space shift, transporting us between Nigeria, America and England. We also bear witness to key moments in Ifemelu and Obinze’s lives. Our couple fell in love as teenagers, their friends and family expected them to marry. However, military-ruled Nigeria had other ideas and forced the lovers apart. Ifemelu goes to an American university and struggles to find her place.
“In America tribalism is alive and well. There are four kinds—class, ideology, region, and race … There’s a ladder of racial hierarchy in America. White is always on top, … and American Black is always on the bottom, and what’s in the middle depends on time and place … Americans assume that everyone will get their tribalism. But it takes a while to figure it all out.”
Obinze has longed to emigrate to the States but finds the door firmly shut, so he becomes one of the undocumented of London. He strives to keep one step ahead of deportation and wryly observes what makes England tick.
“I think class in this country is in the air that people breathe. Everyone knows their place. Even the people who are angry about class have somehow accepted their place … A white boy and a black girl who grow up in the same working-class town in this country can get together and race will be secondary, but in America, even if the white boy and black girl grow up in the same neighbourhood, race would be primary.”
Above all, Americanah is a love story but it’s also a piercing piece of social commentary on modern life and forces the reader to ask many questions. Who are we, whether it be American, English or Nigerian? How do we view people? How do we treat people? Do we make ourselves feel superior to others? Adichie’s enthralling storytelling embraces the hardships of striving to find a place in a new country and a new culture, while dealing with bittersweet homesickness.
‘The [African Students Association] meetings were held in the basement of Wharton Hall, a harshly lit, windowless room … [they] sat around eating, talking, fuelling spirits, and their different accents formed meshes of solacing sounds. They mimicked what Americans told them … And they themselves mocked Africa, trading stories of absurdity, of stupidity, and they felt safe to mock, because it was mockery born of longing, and of the heartbroken desire to see a place made whole again. Here, Ifemelu felt a gentle, swaying sense of renewal. Here, she did not have to explain herself.’
And when Ifemelu finally returns to a democratic Nigeria we experience her unease at being too comfortable. One of those returnees who happily wishes for the comforts of a departed life.
‘Only her old friend in Lagos, Ranyinudo, had made her return seem normal. “Lagos is now full of American returnees, so you better come back and join them. Every day you see them carrying a bottle of water as if they will die of heat if they are not drinking water every minute.”’
And throughout it all, runs the narrative of Ifemelu and Obinze’s enduring love. What will happen when they meet? Because that is inevitable.
I won’t provide any spoilers but all I’ll say is I thoroughly enjoyed Americanah. Adichie has a wonderful talent for combining good old-fashioned romance, witty human interaction and wider issues that affect everyone. Americanah by Chimamanda Ngezi Adichie comes highly recommended.