The desire to have children is a complex mix of biological urges, emotional drivers and cultural attitudes. In Nigeria where the dominant culture places parenthood on a pedestal, childlessness is often treated as a tragic flaw. Such an experience can be fraught, often leading to desperation.
In Our Own Ways is the third novel from Yejide Kilanko. In it, we are introduced to Senami and Fadaka Mausi, a childless couple trying to conceive. Having overcome a penurious upbringing in a Badagry fishing village and now married, but not quite settled into Lagos high society, Senami has a perennial chip on his shoulder. When fatherhood, the next logical step on his path to evincing his self-worth, proves challenging, he acquiesces to a diabolical scheme suggested by his foster mother, Aunty Kike.
Steeped in deceit, that decision sets off a chain of unfortunate events and the eventual emergence of the truth ruptures the Mausis’ marriage. In the aftermath, Senami escapes to Kaduna, a city that offers him a fresh start. He reinvents himself, undergoing a religious conversion and ever the social climber, marries a wealthy, well-connected widow.
Fadaka on the other hand, is the more aggrieved and devastated party. Unfortunately, judgmental attitudes mean that she shoulders a blame that is not hers, and the quality of comfort her family offers her only deepens her wound. Her plight shows that even in the 21st century, the world is still a difficult terrain for women to navigate. Neither wealth nor privilege, Kilanko appears to be arguing, can sufficiently insulate women against misogyny.
Fadaka’s saving grace comes by way of her female friendships. With the help of her best friend Eyimofe, and a host of other women whom she meets as the story progresses, she regains her balance and purpose. The women’s quiet but impactful acts of love support the stance taken by the feminist theorist and cultural critic, bell hooks in Communion: The Female Search for Love, where she writes, “Deep, abiding friendships are the place where many women know lasting love. The work of healing is shared, the pain and the joy.”
That is not to say “woman good, man bad”, to co-opt one of the propagandist slogans in George Orwell’s Animal Farm. The less-than-stellar behaviour of Aunty Kike and Fadaka’s mother demonstrate that the shared experience of womanhood does not automatically translate into solidarity. Besides, Kilanko is more interested in the psychological complexities of her characters than in fuelling the ongoing battle of the sexes.
I suspect that readers with a strong sense of justice will be dissatisfied with the way Senami’s storyline is resolved. His moral failings, however, will provoke a lot of discussion about character and whether true repentance is possible without restitution. Other questions the novel raises concern the thin line between secrecy and confidentiality, and the disproportionate trust religious Nigerians place in people purporting to be God’s representatives.
If there is a major flaw in this novel, it is that the plotting is overly dependent on coincidence. Fiction, by its very nature, is contrived but too many twists of fate, even when fortuitous, only test the reader’s suspension of disbelief.
Spanning three settings — Yovoyan, urban Lagos, and Kaduna, the story is at its most poignant when covering Senami’s formative years in Yovoyan. The unique way of life there, as well as his mother’s worldview, grounded in folk wisdom and faith in Obatala, offer perspectives underrepresented in contemporary Nigerian fiction, and I would love to see the author revisit that world in a future literary production.
For now, what matters is that with In Our Own Ways, Kilanko has given us a book that celebrates the beauty of friendship and the triumph of resilience over life’s calamities.
***Akumbu Uche is a writer and storyteller from Nigeria. Her works have been published by thelagosreview.ng, Aké Review, Brittle Paper, Canthius, The Cincinnati Review and elsewhere
