A few years ago, I wrote a blog post on Chimamanda Adichie– as part of my series on Blacks Girls Rock. In all honesty, I wasn’t well versed with her writings. I knew she was a literary genius, that was changing the conversation around feminism and approaching it from a practical rather than theoretical perspective. And I also knew she was revered as an African writer and was coined the Chinua Achebe of our times. But on a personal level I had never really engaged with this phenomenal African feminist, writer and orator. I am ashamed to say that I had not even read any of her internationally renowned books like Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun or even Americanah. But I revered her from a far because of what she represented for the African woman and in the global context of the African feminist movement. She was private, yet strong. Brilliant yet not forceful and she had a way with words. A way of making people listen to what she had to say. I admired her from afar. Little did I know that my impersonal relationship with Chimamanda was about to change in a drastic way. This happened when I listened via SoundCloud to a talk she gave at the Southbank Centre, London min 2017, which was in Conversation with Reni Edo-Lodge (author of Why I no longer talk to white people about race). It was a talk I very eager to listen to. I had heard on social media that the talk was inspirational, timely and thought-proving for lack of a better phrase to describe this glorious occasion. So, I was more than grateful when a friend of mine sent me the link to the interview session. To say that I couldn’t wait to have my own encounter with Chimamanda, would be a gross understatement of epic proportion.
As I settled in to listen to this audio session, I had no idea I was about to be hit by a wave of truths. Both women (Chimamanda and Reni) are acclaimed writers and speakers so it was fascinating to listen to their perspectives on race and feminism. Reni drew from her frustrations with the dialogue about race in the United Kingdom which prompted her to spew her sentiments on the issue in a blog post that later turned into a book. Chimamanda had a different experience. In my mind, Chimamanda seemed to recollect and draw from so many different scenarios, experiences and nuances she had seen, heard off or experienced over the years. Experiences both in her home country of Nigeria and the United States where she had attended university seemed to shape her well-informed views about race, class and privilege in society. As I listened to Chimamanda talk, she unpacked complex concepts and articulated feelings I knew I had about race and feminism but could never quite articulate it. I acknowledge she has a way with words, a way of simplifying and unpacking seemingly complex terminologies and breaking them down into what they were- perspectives. I particularly appreciated her raw honesty, unadulterated by modern pressure to be politically-correct. In a time where people are seemingly hypersensitive, quick to feel uneasy when certain topics are raised and addicted to political-correctness, this talk was a breath of fresh air. It was thought-provoking, precise and brutally honest. What I unpacked from this conversation was that it is perfectly acceptable for black people to talk about race even if it makes others feel uncomfortable. These conversations have to take place. We can no longer act like race is not a determining factor in systems, structures and life as we know it. We can not say we live in a transracial world because we have made significant racial gains since the 1960s civil rights movement, and America has had a black president. Yes, we have made gains, but these successes do not negate the fact that structural inequalities exist, which continues to impede the holistic development of black people.
Writings of an African Bohemian 