Book Review

Title: Purple Hibiscus
Author: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Reviewed by: Dalton Wanyera
PURPLE HIBISCUS is a vivid, beautifully written novel about a 15-year-old-Kambili growing up in a stifling Catholic household in Nigeria.
It is difficult to describe the oppression that haunts every page of the brilliantly knitted novel. It could be the oppressive heat described so well by the 25-old-author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, brought about by the harsh African harmattan winds. Yet it could also be the force of an unquestioned faith in religion. But in Purple Hibiscus, the worst kind of oppression is the stifling power of abuse; verbal, mental and physical abuse wrought by Kambili’s father, “Papa".
Papa is an interesting character, a person completely immersed into the superiority of the Western manner of thought and action, especially through religion; nothing will stop him to see it (Catholicism) observed by the letter in his house. He is at once consumed by overt extremes of passion—extreme love and, worse, extreme anger. His family, including the protagonist, Kambili (through whom the story is told), live every minute of their life in sheer terror, always looking upon Papa for approval. Adichie’s descriptions of Papa’s stifling presence are extremely well done. The reader’s heart bleeds for the family.
During one particularly telling episode, Kambili has stood second in her class at school and the sheer terror in her voice is scary — one waits with bated breath for the nasty consequences that are sure to follow:
“The Reverend Sisters gave us our cards unsealed. I came second in my class. It was written in figures: “2/25.” My form mistress, Sister Clara, had written, “Kambili is intelligent beyond her years, quiet and responsible.” The principal, Mother Lucy, wrote, “A brilliant, obedient student and a daughter to be proud of.” But I knew Papa would not be proud. He had often told Jaja and me that he did not spend so much money on Daughters of the Immaculate Heart and St. Nicholas to have us let other children come first…I wanted to make Papa proud, to do as well as he had done. I needed him to touch the back of my neck and tell me I was fulfilling God’s purpose. I needed him to hug me close and say that to whom much is given, much is also expected. I needed him to smile at me, in that way that lit up his face, which warmed something inside me. But I had come second. I was stained by failure.”
Eventually Kambili and her brother Jaja get a taste of freedom when their aunt Ifeoma takes them away for a little vacation to her country home. Yet even here, while the two are free from their father’s physical presence, they can understandably never shake off their father’s shadow. Every time the phone rings, Kambili quakes in fear.
All around then, Nigeria is slowly disintegrating just as the family slowly does (the breaking of the Figurines symbolizes this). A violent coup causes Aunt Ifeoma to leave the country for America. Adichie makes some political statements here, “these are the people [Westerners in general] who think that we cannot rule ourselves because the few times that we tried, we failed, as if all the others who rule themselves today got it right the first time. It is like telling a crawling baby who tries to walk, and then falls on his buttocks, to stay there. As if the adults walking past him did not all crawl, once?”
The novel is a sharp retrospection of the turbulent political times in the recent past of Nigeria. Yet go farther to question the sincerity of politicians; is it the military governments or civilian that are more corrupt. These political statements might be lost on the reader only because Kambili’s own personal tragedy seems so much more urgent and dangerous.
Kambili and Jaja along with their long-suffering mother eventually liberate themselves from the tyranny of their father. It is a questionable freedom, though. Like any survivor of abuse, Kambili finds that release without closure is small success. “Silence hangs over us [now],” she says toward the end of Purple Hibiscus. It's only when Kambili is pulled out of this horrific environment that she is able to see how wrong it is and understand that this mode is not normal.
Even though the emotional and physical pains he inflicted are seen only as a gesture of love for her own good, but later she comes to consider his actions as abnormal. Aunty Ifeoma and their cousins have brought joy and laughter to Kambili and Jaja, and that cannot be taken away.
The book prompts a re-examination of cross-sectional audience; politicians, religious and ordinary people on how life and ideology could be upheld with out necessarily suppressing those under their tutelage.
The plot’s tempo is proportionally measured against Nigeria’s fast moving urban life.
It is a harsh story, almost unbearable at first, but beautifully written. The book has earned Chimamanda a comfortable position on the list of Africa’s best writers.