Book+21+-+Americanah


 * Book 20 - Americanah**
 * Discussion dates:** Friday 15th May to Friday 29th May



1. What would you rate this book out of 10 and why?

Mel: 6.5/10. This is a hard book for me to judge. I found the fist quarter in Nigeria (and sporadically in the hairdressers in the US) ok, but it was as though I was just waiting for something to happen. It allowed you to get to know Ifem and Obinze but was a bit pedestrian. When Ifem arrived in the US I felt that the novel really took off and I started to care about her and worried about Obinze when she cut him out. I found her migrant struggle and growth as an individual and as a Nigerian really interesting. Even more fascinating to me was the section in the UK with Obinze. It made me reflect on my time in London and how, as an Australian, I felt so comfortable and possibly entitled to be there. I felt as though the city was mine as much as it was any English person. Obinze's experience of having to lurk in the shadows of the city and being constantly terrified of being found out could not have been more different. He had just as much (probably more) to offer the UK by being there and yet his colour and his ethnicity rendered him a second class citizen. However I felt very let down by the ending of the book back in Nigeria. It totally ran out of steam and became a twee and formulaic and kind of boring love story of a guy cheating on his wife with an old flame. Surely after everything they should have both been better than this?

Gen: 9/10: I really loved this book. It was so interesting and beautifully written. I particularly liked the exploration of 'African' people v 'African American' people and how different their struggles were, which I had not really thought about before but which I reflected on in terms of President Obama and the current racial tensions in the US with the police and African Americans. I actually liked the ending- a reflection about how life is messy and hurtful and sometimes timing doesn't always work.

Jane: Greetings bookclubbers! Ooh, I think a 6 out of 10. I found it very readable, but it didn't rock my boat in an "OH MY GOLLY, YOU GOTTA READ THIS," sort of way. I think the main reason for this is because it was just a bit, well, obvious. Sometimes it seemed a little cliched to me. Maybe I am being more critical than I should because I did pick it up every night and read a chapter or two. It made me think (again because I have thought a lot about this) about the migrant struggle, the obstacles that are faced every day by people who up and leave a country for another life for whatever reason. I, as a pakeha New Zealander, will never truly understand the other perspective. I can be as outraged as I am every time I see or hear about racism, but I can never be inside the head of someone who is frequently judged in a certain way just because of the colour of their skin. I also really enjoyed the idea of identity - how you see yourself and how others might see you.

Sharyn: 8.5/10. As a huge fan of Adichie's previous novel, Half a Yellow Sun, I was looking forward to reading this book and it did not disappoint. I loved it. Like Mel, I found the first section of the book set in Nigeria a bit pedestrian but I found it really interesting once Ifem went to America and I couldn't put it down after that. Even though the novel was about the frequently explored topic of migration, I found it presented in a fresh and unique way with Ifem's blog and the contrast between Ifem and Obinze's experience.

Lynne: 9/10. I loved this book. As the child of coloured South Africans that migrated to Australia 2 years before I was born, I have grown up in a very race-conscious environment. I've had my fair share of curry muncher / chocko type comments, but nothing like the discrimination that my parents lived with. It is their experience that makes me sensitive to racist attitudes and my rage simmers quietly. I found so much in this book that I could relate to. Both Ifem & Obinze mention the desire to leave Nigeria due to choicelessness and my parents faced that too. I loved reading about the trajectory of their new lives and their eventual return to a changing Nigeria.

Mel: I am enjoying writing about this book so much and reading all your comments that I feel obliged to move my 6.5 to a 7!

Rachel: Really enjoying reading everyone's comments too Mel. The following I wrote a few days ago so I apologise if they seem out of sync with more recent postings... 8/10 I found this book a challenge to read but I enjoyed the fact that Adichie was challenging me and opening my eyes to a whole question of identity and status within society that I've never had to consider before. In the first part of the book, I wasn't sure I would be able to keep reading it. I just couldn't connect - not with names, the landscape, the experiences of the characters. And I realised, that it was good that I was experiencing this. I was being forced on the outside of this culture, a culture alien to me and that is precisely what this whole book is about. This for me, was a glimmer of what it feels like to be on the outside and to not to have a definite point of recognition. On principle, the book demanded that I read on! Like you Mel, Gen and Jane, I found the characters experiences in America and the UK fascinating and honest. The only characters I could identify with were the ones we were meant to ridicule - the well meaning 'liberals' during their evening dinner parties discussing issues of racism, intellectualising it, but never fully understanding. I felt Adichie was casting light on my own naivety so in that sense, the book kind of humbled me.

Carissa: 7/10 As with Rachel, I struggled in the early part of the book with the names and, therefore, with remembering who was who. The student lives and preoccupations in Nigeria were vividly portrayed, though, and gave an impression of the aspiration to get out of Nigeria to US or UK, where it was believed that life would be full of opportunities and positive experiences. This was an excellent backdrop to the later experiences of those students, who made the move. Ginika's assured position as the most beautiful girl in the school contrasted sadly with her subsequent loss of self-confidence and the pains to which she went to fit in with the group she lived with in America - the way she became so thin, "relaxed" her hair, with all the suffering that that entailed, spoke in meaningless cliches, about shallow subjects, the way the others did. It was ironic that, although she had been ear-marked at school to be Obinze's girlfriend, she was, in the end, the one who tried to help Obinze to keep track of his beloved Ifem. At school, the students had scorned the boy, who invented a well-to-do identity, in the vain hope of fitting in. The rest of the book deals with the struggles to fit in of those who went overseas. The picture of all this was extremely interesting, including the reaction to each other of American blacks and non-American blacks. The hair salon, where Ifemelu did her thinking, analyzing and reminiscing, was beautifully described, with its stifling heat, broken air-conditioning, constantly playing television, showing Nigerian films, assorted personnel and clients and its insight into different non-American blacks and their prejudices, ignorance and illusions about each other.

2. Ifemelu writes in her blog that “black people are not supposed to be angry about racism” because their anger makes whites uncomfortable (223). Do you agree?

Mel: Yes, I think that I do agree with this. In general terms I think that white people do feel that while they can be outraged on behalf of minority groups that it delegitimizes the point that is being made if the minorities themselves speak out/ act out for themselves. Obviously this is a generalization but I do think that it is the case. And it is just so patriarchal and ridiculous.

Gen: yes I think this is definitely true. I also liked the exploration in the book about how 'black' people are not all the same and don't all necessarily identify with each other about the same struggles or even see themselves as 'black'.

Jane: I don't agree that black people are not supposed to be angry about racism... I think they have every right to be angry, and it darn well //should// make whites uncomfortable. But maybe I have misunderstood the question.

Sharyn: I agree with this. I feel that there is an expectation that back people will be gracious about their experience of racial oppression and not remind people of it all the time, even though they are justified in being angry because there is still a long way to go to achieve true racial equality. I reminds me of something I read in a biography of Michelle Obama: before her husband became president they tested Michelle's approval rating and found that there was a significant perception amongst voters that she was an 'angry black woman'. As a result they tried to soften her image by downplaying her professional achievements, dressing her in 1950's style clothing and focusing on 'softer' issues such as childhood obesity.

Lynne: I agree too. I think the general (white) population avoid uncomfortable talk about racism/inequality, because honestly, how could they ever understand what it is like to be judged by the colour of your skin. I also agree that black people are entitled to be angry about racism. I'd be angry too if I was told that I should straighten my hair for a job interview to make myself look less like a black person!

Mel: Sharyn this (your words below) is exactly what I was trying to say but was far more clumsy than you!! I feel that there is an expectation that back people will be gracious about their experience of racial oppression and not remind people of it all the time, even though they are justified in being angry because there is still a long way to go to achieve true racial equality.

Carissa: I think that the statement is a misleading generalization. Not.all white people expect black people not to be angry about racism and many white people feel uncomfortable about racism, whether or not black people display anger. Prejudices of many forms exist and cause anger among the victims of them (such as the attitude of American blacks towards non-American blacks, as shown by Blaine's sister and friends towards Ifemelu). This anger will seem misplaced to some, while others will sympathize with it. Women's anger at gender inequality is deemed unacceptable to some men, while others understand it.

3. Ifemelu feels that Aunty Uju is too eager to capitulate to the demands of fitting in. Uju says, “You are in a country that is not your own. You do what you have to do if you want to succeed” (120). Is Uju right in compromising her own identity to a certain extent? How is Dike affected by his mother’s struggles?

Mel: I don't think that it is 'right' to compromise your own identity but I do think that it is 'understandable'. Uju's life was very stressful in Nigeria and remains very stressful in the US, just in different ways. Like any child Dike is entirely effected by his mother and her struggles. This is probably even more magnified without other family and close friends around. His relationship with Ifem must have been so important to him - to have someone to laugh with and who cares about him without the stress of having to provide for him

gen: I can understand this happening especially if you are quite powerless

Jane: Yes, Mel, I agree. I don't think it is right, but I also think that it is understandable and one does what one needs to do in order to 'fit'. However, I also wonder if a person can have an incredibly strong identity and still manage to fit in. In fact, I think being able to maintain a strong sense of self while being a migrant is incredibly important to maintain good mental health. But does a strong identity = belonging? That is a big question.

Sharyn: When I was reflecting on Uju compromising her own identity to fit it, it made me think of my own experience as an expatriate in Hong Kong. I don't think I have compromised my own identity at all to fit in here, and my husband feels the same way. By contrast, my husband feels that he and his family probably compromised some of their identity when they immigrated to Australia from Malaysia in the 1980's. Why the difference? I think moving to another country where you feel economically and socially disadvantaged makes you more inclined to compromise your own identity to a certain extent. My husband thinks that if you see the move as permanent (as opposed to temporary) it is really difficult not to compromise your own identity at all. Either way, I agree with Jane that a strong sense of self is key to good mental health. I found Dike's suicide attempt confusing in that regard because he seemed to have a very strong sense of himself.

Mel: As well as socio-economic status, don't you think it is also based on colour and race? Dan's (Sharyn's husband) family were Asian immigrating to Australia. Ifem was African migrating to the US, in HK (and Singapore) we are white people in an Asian country. We are born to feel accepted and think that Asia is lucky to have us. As for Australian's in London, as I said before we feel totally entitled. More than once while living in London I was called a convict or a colonial - in a serious, sneering way. But I never saw this as racism - just as a person being ignorant and stupid. By the way - I'm not saying that any of this is right, just that it is the way that it is.

sharyn: Yes, I also think it is based on race and colour or, more generally, about perceived superiority. I would include an English person's superiority over an Australian 'convict' in that as well ! Mel, you clearly had a strong sense of yourself and did not suffer from an inferiority complex so that stood you in good stead!

Lynne: I totally understand Uju trying to fit in and she does it mostly for Dike's sake, so he does not feel like a foreigner in the USA. This seemed to backfire in the end when he attempted suicide from the stress that his mother brought to their household and his confused sense of self. My parents left their old selves behind (happily) and tried to reinvent themselves in Australia. They were educated (mum) and trade qualified (dad), so when they arrived here they felt like they could contribute. They could go about their business without being harassed about being on the right bus, lining up in the correct queue and always carrying the papers which advertised their racial grouping. They grabbed the opportunity to assimilate with both hands because, like Uju, they thought that fitting in would make them more likely to succeed.

Rachel: Well put Jane - it is a big question. One I know is troubling Europe greatly at the moment. So much talk at the moment of migrants taking lessons on what it means to be 'British' for example (like there's some kind of checklist) and avoiding ghettoization within cities. I'm not sure either extreme works. If anything, I empathise with Uju's standpoint. Isn't that what we all want to do - fit in, be accepted, be part of a collective identity? To what cost though, is a whole other 'big' question. Dike, unsurprisingly as a child, is even more intent on fitting in and adopting a traditional and accepted American identity. I think this would have happened even if his mother had worked hard to maintain her cultural roots - what child doesn't want to fit in with his peers. I really felt for his character - the whole sunscreen experience nearly had me in tears because it was just so horribly believable. However, Sharyn I share your confusion over Dike's attempted suicide. As a teenager he is presented to us as popular and well adjusted, and not enough time is spent on his 'hidden' issues to make this an effective event to occur. Could have been explored in much more detail, so I wonder if there was an editing issue behind this.

Carissa: Uju's identity seems to be that of somebody who wants to please and to make herself acceptable to whoever she is with. She goes through all sorts of hoops to look and to be pleasing to the General. Dike sees her change to be right for Bartholomew. She also tries to make Dike wear the sorts of clothes that would please Bartholomew and to call Bartholomew "Dad". It is wonderful when she does eventually rebel and leave Bartholomew. Her sensitivity about some patients' reactions to her is totally understandable and one feels her pain and outrage. Part of her identity is to reach the end of her tether and, at last, to make things work better for her. Her comment about being acceptable in the environment that she is in makes sense to me. I live in a Muslim area of Kenya and feel obliged to cover my shoulders and upper arms when I go to our nearby village. Being left-handed, I have to work hard to remember that the left hand is to be used for unclean jobs only and so I must never hand anybody anything with my left hand, or reach to accept anything with that hand. Dike becomes silent and watchful when at home with his mother, no doubt uneasy about her struggles to fit in, while he has his own, too, in this predominantly white community, but his identity problems arise partly, also, because she does not tell him who his father is.

4. Why does she avoid being in touch with Obinze afterward (157–58)? Why doesn’t she read his letters? How do you interpret her behavior?

Mel: What went down between Ifem and the tennis coach was just so horrible. Made me think of a whole shady world out there where there types of interactions would be happening all the time. Obviously Ifem avoided Obinze afterwards as she felt so humiliated to have capitulated in this way and that she had been tarnished by the experienced and was no linger good enough for him. She doesn't read his letters as they will fill her with even more remorse and guilt than she is already feeling. And then too much time has passed and she can't find a way to get back to him.

Lynne: True Mel, and I feel so sorry for people that sink to these depths due to economic desperation. She must have been so disconnected that she was not feeling herself, so sleeping with a stranger for $100 seems like something that this small, new self could do, but then contact with Obinze reminds her of who she really is and the shame was crushing.

Rachel: Agree Mel and Lynne. Just so depressing. It was everything that happened prior to this point, that culminated in this point that spoke volumes to me. Ifem is just so vulnerable - intelligent, well educated but struggling to survive financially. Knock back after knock back, having no other choice but to go down that dark road. It reduces her, degrades her in her own eyes and Obinze represents her true self. She has to cut him out, she can’t bear to see herself through his eyes. Her behaviour was a form of survival, trying to detach herself from the reality of what should have been her 'shiny' new life in America., f

Carissa: Adichie portrays perfectly the self-disgust that leads to depression. I could picture so well her curled up in a ball in her darkened room with the door locked. This incident with the tennis coach is when she is at rock bottom and desperate, with no means of paying the rent, feeding herself (the dog eating her bacon is a striking and poignant detail) and yet, with too much pride to ask Obinze to send her money, when she, in what is perceived to be the country of golden opportunities, should be sending money home to Nigeria. She won't read his letters, which are likely to be full of love, trust, and admiration for her, unknowing of the depth of filth that she feels she has reached - hence constantly washing her hands and not wanting to wash or touch her body - because the letters will be too painful a reminder of how horribly different she feels she now is from what he believes her to be and, perhaps, they will remind her of her carefree, happy life in Nigeria and of the dream that they both had once had of America.. Her behaviour is that of somebody, who is horrified and disgusted at how she has corrupted her own standards of decency and, therefore feels too debased and ashamed to face anybody else. Again, the description of her despair and disgust is intensely vivid.

5. Ifemelu’s blog is a venue for expressing her experience as an African immigrant and for provoking a conversation about race and migration. She says, “I discovered race in America and it fascinated me” (406). She asks, “How many other people had become black in America?” (298). Why is the blog so successful? Are there any real-life examples that you know of similar to this?

Gen: the world of blogs is very fascinating- a forum that bypasses the traditional gatekeepers of information and opinion and which can be hugely influential in both good and bad ways. I have some friends who are bloggers and it is very interesting to hear of the connections they have made through it and the extent to which they write the 'truth'.

Jane: I thought the blog posts were excellent. I can think of a recent blog post I read that relates... it is worth a read, ladies! [|http://www.katherineisawesome.com/2015/04/02/classic-katherine-stream-of-consciousness-style-post/#more-21289]

Mel: And of course we have a blogger in our midst. http://thatsquitenice.com What has your blogging experience been like Michelle?

Jane: Michelle, life through your blog looks exquisite!

Mel: I know! I don't know what I want more - to be Michelle's daughter or her friend who gets to come around and drink wine in her house!

Sharyn: Like Gen, I found Ifem's blogs on the difference between African Americans and American Africans fascinating and enlightening. And I also learnt a lot about hair that I didn't know before!

Lynne: The blogosphere...still a bit of a mystery to me. I loved Ifem's posts, because I did not have to read all of them, just the best of them. That's the problem, I feel, with blogs is that they seem a bit repetitive. Except Michelle's - the staggering variety on Thats Quite Nice just served to make me feel like my house sucks, my crafting abilities are non-existent, I should give up on photography and get back to my desk job.

Carissa: Like Lynne, I enjoyed reading her blogs and the responses they prompted. I am very interested in Lynne's warning about blogs in general. Where we are, we do not have sufficient internet connection for me to include blogs in my life, without being driven mad with frustration. The internet has cut out five times already, in the course of my answering these questions.

6. Obinze goes to London, and when his visa expires he is reduced to cleaning toilets (238); eventually he is deported. How did you find this section of the book? Did it provide a counterpoint to Ifemelu’s experiences in the US?

Gen: I found this this section very humiliating for someone of Obinze's talent and ambition. Ifemelu had a better time in the US, where she eventually had more choices and freedom.

Sharyn: My recollection of the book is now getting a bit hazy, but (controversially and at the risk of sounding sexist) I am wondering if Ifem's experience as an attractive woman played a part in her relative 'success' in America (compared to Obinze). Her relationships with Curt and the University lecturer introduced her to a different way of life/thinking and to a diverse, affluent and intelligent range of people who enhanced and complimented her career. That social structure gave her confidence. Obinze didn't have the same kind of springboard.

Lynne: Ifem went to the USA to study and Obinze stayed in the UK illegally, so they were always going to have opposing experiences. I felt terribly sorry for Obinze and the situation he found himself in, being exploited by blacks and whites. He was such a proud man and he must have had to fight hard to ensure this was not eroded

Carissa: The section about surviving on illegal papers in UK fascinated me, given the publicity currently given to this subject. Obinze's calm, intelligent, resourceful personality enabled him to rise above the misery and humiliation that he experienced. He was clearly liked very much by his colleagues in the factory and I like the discovery that, later, when Obinze had made a success of his life back in Nigeria, one of his colleagues came to work for him. I think it was a good counterpoint to Ifem's experience, although, as Lynne says, their experiences were almost incomparable.

7. While she is involved with Curt, Ifemelu sleeps with a younger man in her building, out of curiosity. “There was something wrong with her. She did not know what it was but there was something wrong with her. A hunger, a restlessness. An incomplete knowledge of herself. The sense of something farther away, beyond her reach” (291–92). Is this a common feeling among young women in a universal sense, or is there something more significant in Ifemelu’s restlessness? What makes hers particular, if you feel it is?

Mel: I can identify with some of this. At Ifem's age I occasionally allowed myself to act in ways that were morally wrong and I knew were morally wrong even before I did them. I think that I still have a restless spirit, like I want to reach out for something unidentifiable, but I squash it down deep under layers of mothering, wanting to be a 'good' wife, busyness, tiredness! Maybe it is partly why is continue to choose to live outside Australia - to satisfy my restlessness. Maybe (hopefully) I will one day, like Ifem wake up and know it is time to go home!

Lynne: I'm with you Mel. I think we all suffer from this restlessness during out 20s', while we are trying to figure out who we are. Am I the kind of girl that can sleep with a relative stranger and then get my rich (pathologically devoted) boyfriend to overlook my infidelity? I reckon I would have done the same if I was in another country without my family/friends around me to remind me of where my morals truly lie. A 'What happens overseas stays overseas' attitude prevails here. It's nothing special and not isolated to the migrant experience.

Carissa: Again, I think Adichie describes perfectly the restlessness and rootlessness that can overwhelm a young girl far from home, family and culture. The fear Ifemelu has that there is something wrong with her for behaving in a way that she never would at home, is also deeply understandable.

8. When reading Obinze’s conversations with Ojiugo, his now-wealthy friend who has married an EU citizen, did you get the sense that those who emigrate lose something of themselves when they enter the competitive struggle in their new culture (Chapter 24), or is it more of a struggle to maintain that former self? Does Adichie suggest that this is a necessary sacrifice? Are all of the characters who leave Nigeria (such as Emenike, Aunty Uju, Bartholomew, and Ginika) similarly compromised?

Gen: not sure- but I liked the passages about Ifemelu's return to Nigeria and the alienation and yet familiarity she felt.

Carissa: I am not sure that people who emigrate necessarily lose parts of themselves in the struggles and challenges they confront. I think it is more likely that they gain useful attributes, specifically to cope with their situations. I think people are very pragmatic. I know women, whose marriages have been arranged and who say, without any reservations, that they have grown to love their husbands.

9. Is the United States presented in generally positive or generally negative ways in //Americanah//?

Gen: more positively than Britain

Mel: It's so interesting the status that the US and the UK to the lesser extent are still afforded by people in the developing world. Aunty Uju is a good example of why this is the case. In Nigeria the best that she could hope for was to be someone's mistress while in the US through hard work and grit and struggle she was able to make an independent life for herself as a doctor.

Lynne: I thought the USA was depicted in a really balanced way, which I hope reflects the truth. The poor college students, the hair braiders struggling to make ends meet, the intelligent academics that she spent time with, rooting for Obama. Ifemelu's world/experience was largely positive, however I was particularly struck by Aunty Uju saying (on pg 217) "These people, they make you aggressive just to keep your dignity". Her experience in America was more negative than positive.

Carissa: America is presented in a generally positive way. I particularly agree with the point Mel makes about Aunty Uju's prospects in the two countries.

10. How does Adichie sustain the suspense about whether Ifemelu and Obinze will be together until the very last page? What, other than narrative suspense, might be the reason for Adichie’s choice in doing so? Would you consider their union the true homecoming, for both of them?

Mel: As I mentioned above I found them getting back together disappointing. I totally understand them still having feelings for each other, but was disappointed with them running around behind Obinze's wife's back.

Lynne: I didn't need a fairytale ending so was not concerned that the 'reveal' was on the last page. I just wanted to see what the new Nigeria was like and I feel like the time she spent with her old friends and in her new job at the magazine certainly gave me a good sense of that. If Adichie was stringing me along to maintain suspense, it was lost on me. Their union was probably inevitable and perhaps I had that in the back of my mind, and that would nicely tie into the concept of 'homecoming'....a little too nicely perhaps (Mel, your cynicism is rubbing off on me).

Rachel: Not convinced by the ending one bit. Our strong, feminist blogger suddenly turns schmaltzy and blinded by love? I don’t think it has anything to do with narrative suspense, I think Adichie just needed a better editor at that point!! (Don't know why I am attacking the editor so vehemently tonight!!!)

Carissa: I agree with Lynne. Ifemelu's return to Nigeria was what interested me - the extent to which she saw it as changed or unchanged, the employment chances, the attitude of those who have never left towards returnees.I was pretty certain that they would come together and felt sad, from the moment I read about Obinze's child and marriage. I thought that the encounters between Ifemelu and Obinze after she returned were worthy of a trashy, shallow romantic novel. Having said that, I am not sure what would have made a suitable ending, given that the book was particularly about those two characters.

11. Is there anything else that you would like to ask or say about the book?

Gen: I recently watched a funny segment of The Daily Show about the new rules for how women in the US army must wear their hair which unfairly targets black women by banning 'natural' hair styles and requiring relaxers or wigs be worn instead- a warning for the curly haired amongst us....

Mel: You might be interested in this Ted Talk on feminism by Chimamanda. I love it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hg3umXU_qWcI have read all her books and generally love the way she writes. If you enjoy short stories I highly recommend "The Thing Around Your Neck" - a lovely collection

Lynne: I thought this was a cracking good book and I am not sure if the questions above (and more particularly my answers!) have shone a light on the best bits. I thought Blaine was a symbol of the perfect African American man, the ideal to which all others should aspire too. But it is such a big stretch for the millions of black Americans that live in poverty, receive sub-standard education and have the odds stacked against them. My god, if you have ever watched the TV series The Wire you get a window into a world that none of us could ever imagine.

Rachel: Interesting one Gen. I too became fascinated by this notion of hair and the time and effort and damage caused by relaxants. I loved the war Ifem wages on hair relaxants and her embracing of her natural Afro. It actually made me think a lot about my current TV role model 'Olivia Pope' from Scandal (some great feminist one liners in the latest series) - having read this book I now question her 'straight perfect hair' being represented as synonymous with control and power. On reflection, it now feels like it's sending out a negative message. But I digress...glad I read this book, enjoyed being challenged, enjoyed reflecting on my own naivety and feel I am all the more aware for it.

Carissa: Here in Kenya, many women have been straightening their hair and I had no idea of the pain that it entailed. However, there is a prominent Kenyan business woman, who has written vehemently against the practice of changing from natural hair. Thank you very much, Mel, for the link to the Ted talk by Chimamanda Adichie. I found it very interesting and was deeply impressed by her poise and delivery. I kept forgetting, as I watched, that she was not Ifemelu!