Ayòbámi Adébáyò's debut novel, Stay with Me, was shortlisted for the Women’s Prize and the Wellcome Book Prize and it left an imprint on the hearts of many people, including myself. In her highly anticipated new book, A Spell of Good Things, she focuses on themes of family, social class and politics.
The book centres on the lives of two main characters and is set in Nigeria during election season. Eniolá is a young boy whose life is characterised by poverty. His father’s redundancy leaves a financial dent on his family. Education is seen as his “only chance in life” but his parents can no longer afford his school fees. Eniolá is forced to run errands for the local tailor and beg for money on the streets. We soon see that he isn’t just emptied of his aspirations but also of choices.
Wúraolá's life is different. She comes from a wealthy family where she is hailed as the golden child. The 28-year-old doctor is in her first year of practice. Her partner, Kunle, is a family friend who also comes from an affluent background. Adebayo uses their relationship as a canvas to explore the theme of intimate violence. Wúraolá is unsure about a lot of things in her life, particularly her relationship and career. Her sister, Mọ́tárá, is the opposite; she is “spoilt”, carefree and not afraid to express herself amid traditions and structures.
Adébáyò perfectly encapsulates what poverty entails in a Nigerian context – the harassment from landlords and the humiliation by classmates; the psychological effects and the shame embodied. I was particularly interested in the effect it has on familial relationships. Poverty brings a subtle and almost inevitable resentment that separates Eniola’s family unit.
The lives of Eniolá and Wúraolá collide by fate as corruption and violence weave their stories together. Adébáyò paints a realistic picture of modern-day Nigeria and its inequalities between social classes but also the shared misfortunes of seemingly different categories of people. The book is divided into four parts, introduced with quotations from Nigerian writers: Sefi Atta, Chika Unigwe, Helon Habila and Teju Cole.
Adébáyò's storytelling is gripping, tender and timely. Her writing is captivating and detailed. The book’s Nigerian English vernacular and the careful inclusion of diacritics on the Yorúbá words are important linguistic features that bring an authenticity that allows the prose to stick.
