“The real tragedy of our postcolonial world is not that the majority of people had no say in whether or not they wanted this new world; rather, it is that the majority have not been given the tools to negotiate this new world.”

 

Facing the waves, Binalong Bay, Tasmania January 2021.

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

The novel's opening is an opaque and intricate introduction to both a large cast of characters and Nigerian social and political complexities. Once the domestic world starts to settle down (in conjunction with the heightening political tensions), the story positively rockets along.
Adichie constructs a rich and vibrant sense of time and place and draws the reader along with horror and excitement at the formation and eventual destruction of the Biafran state. The indifference of the outside world and the wilful culpability of the (former) British colonial masters bristles off the page.

Deftly shifting backwards and forwards in time, this is a beautifully constructed book. There is an adroitness in handling such weighty themes, and the righteous anger forms naturally as only high art manages. While there is a danger that such a topic can drift into a polemic of backstory, events, dates and atrocities, Half of a Yellow Sun never feels like a lecture.

Indeed, the world always feels real and consequential. The fate of the central characters – the crimes done to and by them – will resonate long after you’ve finished. While not flawless, the writing occasionally comes across as pedestrian and drifts into the melodramatic; on the whole, this is a beautiful novel.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2