Stay With Me

In 1980s Nigeria, a young married woman, Yejide, tries and fails to become pregnant. It’s a time of political upheaval: over the course of the novel, several coups take place. It’s also a time during which modern (Western) medical practice enjoys an ongoing conflict with traditional remedies, as well as pseudo- or quasi-Christian practices in Southern Nigeria, where the novel takes place. The protagonist’s mother-in-law sends her to a “prophet” in an attempt to remedy her apparent infertility; when she eventually conceives and gives birth, only to have the child die in infancy, the mother-in-law openly suspects it of being abiku, an evil spirit.

This is an astonishingly rich, complex novel, especially considering that it’s a debut, and there’s a lot to unpack. For starters, the environment of the novel is apparently one in which polygamy is prevalent (though Wikipedia informs me it is only legally recognised in the northern, Muslim states of Nigeria), and the author examines the destructiveness of the practice on female relationships, with wives jockeying for power in a household. When Yejide fails to conceive, her in-laws effectively force her husband to take a second wife in an effort to obtain grandchildren. There is a heartbreaking consideration of the effect of social and family pressure on the childless couple: it proves too much for Yejide’s useless husband, Akin, who throughout the book is hinted to be infertile, and who, while he “loves” his wife, constantly deceives her, and is apparently incapable of standing up for her until it’s too late. The conflict between old and new manifests in many ways throughout the book, from English being a language in which to have secret conversations, to the shame attached to certain medical conditions. In this vein, I especially loved a section in which Yejide develops a phantom pregnancy: while modern psychology can identify and treat her condition, there is also an element of magic to the way in which her abdomen expands despite the absence of a foetus. Yejide is university-educated, but never pursues a career beyond the traditionally feminine occupation of hairdresser; nevertheless, owning her own business proves to be a solace in difficult times.

The mid-80s to 90s was the right choice for the setting, with the political power grabs mirroring to an extent the familial relationships. Later, when elections are promised but not delivered (and when they take place, ignored), it heightens the atmosphere of deception that has arisen around Yejide’s household. Ultimately, though, where this novel really triumphs is in the way all of its many elements combine to create an environment that is utterly toxic to any woman not content or able to submit to a traditional role in society. Adebayo is an insightful, powerful voice in non-Western feminism, with an instinct for communicating a complex whole that is greater than, but inseparable from, the sum of its parts.

Trigger warnings: domestic violence, infant death, police violence.