Aiwanose Odafen is the author of two novels: ‘Tomorrow I Become A Woman‘ and ‘We Were Girls Once‘.
Both are intertwined.
Odafen released ‘Tomorrow I Become A Woman‘ first. It leaves one with the takeaway that we must all be feminists. It also screams that violence—whether physical or emotional—has no place in marriage while impressing on us that no partner has the right to harm the other.
Arguments and disagreements are inevitable, it seems to suggest, but they must be resolved through dialogue, not physical or verbal abuse.
Odafen’s first novel is a bold critique of societal norms and a compelling call for equity and respect. Feminism oozes out of almost every page. In some instances, it is subtle and in many cases, it’s in your face, daring the society to reckon with its systemic unfairness towards women.
‘Tomorrow I Become A Woman‘ is pro-women but while not necessarily anti-men, it rails against women being seen as addendum in marriages and as humans who have to continually remold themselves to please the society.
Set against the backdrop of the Alhaji Shehu Shagari, Muhammadu Buhari, Ibrahim Babangida, Sani Abacha and AbdulSalami Abubakar administrations with echoes of the civil war era, it deals with many issues, but we are left in little doubt about its main focus: how the society cheats girls and women in many facets of life.
Through Uju, the narrator and protagonist, we are served dishes of the many injustices against women.
As a girl, Uju must assist her mother in the kitchen, observe strict curfews, and adhere to dress codes her brothers are exempt from—all in the name of culture. Later, as an adult, Uju navigates the many ways societal norms impose on women’s autonomy. Culture, she is constantly told, dictates the ways she must lead her life.
We observe how single ladies are treated as outcasts when Uju is encouraged to either abandon or persuade her friend, Chinelo, to get married because as her husband tells her a married woman shouldn’t have an unmarried friend.
On her own part, Chinelo’s mother tells her to be careful of Chinelo because she can be jealous and “scatter her marriage.”
Uju’s inability to conceive in the first year of marriage becomes a communal concern. Her mother, who expected a grand child immediately, badgers her incessantly but unbeknownst to her, Chinelo is on birth control pills. When she is found out, the heaven nearly comes down. It’s a different kettle of fish when she goes to the hospital for a pregnancy test without a wedding band and nurses look at her as the promiscuous unmarried woman.
And wait for this ridiculous one: eventually when a child is born, an elderly nurse derides her for having a girl as a first child, yet science has proven that a man determines the sex of a child. To add salt to her injury, an old school mate feels the appropriate prayer is to say ” don’t worry, God will give you a boy next”. This is particularly telling because other variants of this prayer are hurled at her regularly.
Interestingly, when it begins to take time for a second child to come, it is on the woman the attention is focused. The absurdities pile up: She is asked questions that are better not dignified with answers. Family and friends bombard her with unsolicited advice—consult see a doctor, visit a pastor, or try these concoctions.
Sadly, when Uju begins to suffer one miscarriage after the other, she is blamed for the situation and subjected to all manner of nonsense. She is left to bear the heavy cross alone and in a ridiculous twist, her mother interprets the situation as God’s punishment for her past use of birth control pills, She is asked to seek penance and when the situation persists, she is accused of having no faith. Her miscarriages are used to pressure her into abandoning her fully-funded postgraduate studies. And Uju’s mother thinks she should be grateful that Chigozie, her husband, hasn’t taken another wife to give him more children.
Eventually, she carries another pregnancy to term butthe result isn’t just one but two babies and instead of joy and relief, Uju faces a deluge of recriminations because she has given birth to twin girls. The advice is a simple one: try again so that she can have a boy to cement her position in Chigozie’s life as if her daughter were a consolation prize.
Odafen’s novel raises critical posers: Is it right for a husband to feel slighted because his father-in-law bought his wife a car without informing him first? Why do some men find it easy to turn their wives into punching bags? Does corporal punishment bring about good behaviour in a woman? Why does a generation of mothers justify the domestic abuse of their daughters? What are a woman’s primary responsibilities? Is it the woman’s responsibility to keep the home whole even when the man of the house has lost touch with reality and is running amok? Must a wife be subject to her husband no matter what happens? Is there sense in asking a wife to hand over her money to her husband to make him feel like the head of the home? Whose role is it to get toddlers to be quiet when they cry in public space? Does a husband only become a man when he has a male child?
This thought-provoking novel is one that will stay with a reader for a long time.
***Olukorede S Yishau is the author of In The Name of Our Father, Vaults of Secrets, United Countries of America and Other Travel Tales and After The End. He writes from Houston, Texas.
