The Stories of Africa: a Q & A with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi
Q: What led you to write a book about the Nigeria-Biafra war?
I wrote this novel because I wanted to write about love and war, because I
grew up in the shadow of Biafra, because I lost both grandfathers in the
Nigeria-Biafra war, because I wanted to engage with my history in order to
make sense of my present, because many of the issues that led to the war
remain unresolved in Nigeria today, because my father has tears in his eyes
when he speaks of losing his father, because my mother still cannot speak
at length about losing her father in a refugee camp, because the brutal
bequests of colonialism make me angry, because the thought of the egos and
indifference of men leading to the unnecessary deaths of men and women and
children enrages me, because I don't ever want to forget. I have always
known that I would write a novel about Biafra. At 16, I wrote an awfully
melodramatic play called For Love of Biafra. Years later, I wrote short
stories, That Harmattan Morning, Half of a Yellow Sun and Ghosts, all
dealing with the war. I felt that I had to approach the subject with little
steps, paint on a smaller canvas first, before starting the novel.
Q: Given that at the time of the war you hadn't yet been born, what sort of
research did you do to prepare for writing this book?
I read books. I looked at photos. I talked to people. In the four years
that it took to finish the book, I would often ask older people I met,
`Where were you in 1967?"and then take it from there. It was from stories
of that sort that I found out tiny details that are important for fiction.
My parents" stories formed the backbone of my research. Still, I have a lot
of research notes that I did not end up using because I did not want to be
stifled by fact, did not want the political events to overwhelm the human
story.
Q: Are memories of the Nigeria-Biafra war still alive in Nigeria, talked
about on a regular basis, or do you feel that the conflict is being lost to
history as time passes and that it becomes less important to Igbo culture?
The war is still talked about, still a potent political issue. But I find
that it is mostly talked about in uninformed and unimaginative ways. People
repeat the same things they have been told without having a full grasp of
the complex nature of the war or they hold militant positions lacking in
nuance. It also remains, to my surprise, very ethnically divisive: the
(brave enough) Igbo talk about it and the non-Igbo think the Igbo should
get over it. There is a new movement called MASSOB, the Movement for the
Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra, which in the past few years
has captured the imagination of many Igbo people. MASSOB is controversial;
it is reported to engage in violence and its leaders are routinely arrested
and harassed by the government. Still, despite its inchoate objectives,
MASSOB's grassroots support continues to grow. I think this is because it
gives a voice to many issues that have been officially swept aside by the
country but which continue to resonate for many Igbo people.
Q: The book focuses on the experiences of a small set of people who are
experiencing the conflict from very different points of view. When we step
into their individual worlds, we don't know their every thought - the
narrator who follows them isn't omniscient - but rather we seem to see and
understand them through a film. Can you describe your narrative style and
why you framed these characters the way you did?
I actually don't think of them as being seen through a `film'. I have
always been suspicious of the omniscient narrative. It has never appealed
to me, always seemed a little lazy and a little too easy. In an
introduction to the brilliant Italian writer Giovanni Verga's novel, it is
said about his treatment of his characters that he `never lets them analyze
their impulses but simply lets them be driven by them'. I wanted to write
characters who are driven by impulses that they may not always be
consciously aware of, which I think is true for us human beings. Besides, I
didn't want to bore my reader - and myself - to death, exploring the
characters"every thought.
Q: The character Richard is a British white expatriate who considers
himself Biafran, drawing a certain amount of quiet- and some loud-
criticism for his self-proclaimed identity. Another key narrator, Ugwu, is
a 13-year-old houseboy who reacts rather than acts. Both are interesting
choices for characters for the narrator to `shadow'. Why did you pick
them?
Ugwu was inspired in part by Mellitus, who was my parents" houseboy during
the war; in part by Fide, who was our houseboy when I was growing up. And I
have always been interested in the less obvious narrators. When my mom
spoke about Mellitus, what a blessing he was, how much he helped her, how
she did not know what she would have done without him, I remember being
moved but also thinking that he could not possibly have been the saint my
mother painted, that he must have been flawed and human. I think that Ugwu
does come to act more and react less as we watch him come into his own.
Richard was a more difficult choice. I very much wanted somebody to be the
Biafran `outsider"because I think that outsiders played a major role in
the war but I wanted him, also, to be human and real - and needy!"