March Education Series: Americanah
For YWIâs March Education series, I hosted a book club on Chimamanda Ngozi Adichieâs Americanah. In this masterful novel we follow the stories of Ifemulu, a young Nigerian woman, and Obinze, her first love, from their childhood in military-ruled Nigeria to adulthood in America (for Ifemulu) and London (for Obinze), only to see them reunite under difficult circumstances in Nigeria. But, truthfully, their love story is only part of the full picture (and for some of our ladies participating in the book club, the least interesting aspect to the novel). Through every relationship, each new character, and every strange experience, the story confronts race, identity, gender, power, class, sexuality, immigration, and the American Dream.
Arriving in the U.S. for college, Ifemulu is first introduced to Blackness in America, and, through her quick-witted observations, holds an irreverent lens up to the absurdity of race relations in our society. Upon first reuniting with Ginika, a friend from Nigeria who moved to the U.S years before Ifemulu, Ginika lays out some new terms for Ifemulu: âbiracialâ takes the place of âhalf-caste,â âthinâ replaces âslim,â itâs a compliment for someone to notice when you have lost weight, and, even more confusing, white Americans avoid saying the world âblack.â A hilarious example of this ensues in a scene when a character describes a black store attendant: âWhy didnât she just ask âWas it the black girl or the white girl?ââ Ginika laughed. âBecause this is America. Youâre supposed to pretend that you donât notice certain things.â
Gender, class, and power struggles collide when Ifemulu is unable to find a job to support herself while she studies in America, and this desperation leads her to accepting an offer to âde-stressâ a tennis coach in the Philadelphia suburbs in exchange for cash. This dynamic plays out even more in the character Aunty Uju, Ifemuluâs aunt, who twice wraps herself into relationships with men (first, the General in Nigeria, then Bartholomew in America) because she lacks economic power to stand on her own. Ultimately, she finds her way, but not before succumbing to a drab life in the Massachusetts suburbs, where her son is picked out for being the only black student in a sea of white, and unfairly labeled âaggressiveâ by his teachers.
While we slip from the present day (Ifemulu having her hair braided at an African hair salon outside of Princeton) to the recent past, we follow Ifemulu as she finds a job as a nanny to a white, wealthy family in the Philadelphia suburbs, continues her studies in Philadelphia, gets her first ârealâ job, watches with a mixture of fear and excitement as Barack Obama wins the U.S. Presidential Election, and falls in and out of relationships with wealthy Curt and intellectual Blain. When we meet Obinze again, heâs floundering in London, the city he landed in after many failed attempts to leave Nigeria for the U.S. At his lowest, heâs cleaning a pile of feces off of the lid of a toilet (yes, on top of the toilet).Â
The backdrop of the novel is Ifemuluâs blog, Raceteenth or Various Observations on American Blacks (Those Formally Known as Negroes) From a Non-American Black, which she begins after college, and which, at its end, has received much fame (though Ifem herself remains its anonymous author) in the blogosphere. Some of my favorite blog titles include: Not All Dreadlocked White American Guys Are Down, Badly-Dressed White Middle Managers from Ohio Are Not Always What You Think, Understanding America for the Non-American Black: American Tribalism, and a wonderful post on the approved dark brown skin of Michelle Obama.Â
When Ifem quits her blog and returns to Nigeria, she is headed there with Obinze in mind. The final pages either make or break the story, depending on your definition of a storybook ending.
Adichieâs Americanah produced rich discussion, lively debate, and curious discourse. If you havenât yet, add it to your reading list. You wonât be disappointed!