Tomorrow I Become a Woman

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SHAME is a big thing. It’s a premise all on its own when a woman feels ashamed that her children are seeing her being beaten. Uju tries to show her daughters that despite what they have lived thru as women they can expect more. “It’s never too early to talk about marriage they are women after all.” He laughed long and hard, and I smiled because I liked his laugh – it made me want to laugh too. ‘Obianuju, people will always talk,’ he said finally. ‘It’s your choice whether to listen or not. I don’t listen because I don’t care. We enjoy spending time together and that’s what matters.’ On a Sunday in 1978, Obianuju meets Chigozie at church – the perfect place for an upstanding girl to find a husband. Uju is in her last months studying economics at the University of Lagos; Gozie is a journalist ten years her senior. Crucially, he is Igbo and meets her mother’s approval. Months later, they are married, and Uju’s life is set on a new course.

Mama is one of those orthodox women who see marriage as the apex of a woman’s life. Uju’s life shows that such rigid orthodoxy is not always the best, with the denigrating belief in a wife’s mute docility and unquestioning subservience. Mama’s domineering presence in Uju’s life can be very difficult to read at tmes. When Uju begins to date Gozie, her mother says to her: “ Nne, please behave yourself with him; don’t drive him away. Don’t talk too much, and don’t be doing i-too-know. Even if he is wrong, just smile, at least until he pays your bride price.” What about you? Tell me about yourself,’ Gozie said some minutes later, another dazzling smile on his lips, after we’d taken enough bites of the cold food served by the waiter. When Gozie and Obianuju meet in August 1978, it is nothing short of fate. He is the perfect man: charismatic, handsome, Christian and—most importantly—Igbo. He reminds her of her beloved Uncle Ikenna, her mother’s brother who disappeared fighting in the Civil War that devastated Nigeria less than a decade before. It is why, when Gozie asks her to marry him within months of meeting, she says yes, despite her lingering and uncertain feelings for Akin—a man her mother would never accept, as his tribe fought on the other side of the war. Akin makes her feel heard, understood, intelligent; Gozie makes her heart flutter. The epigraph of Tomorrow I Became a Woman introduces how attention-catching and affectionate the book will be. The epigraph, “’She’s a woman now, a true mother,’ I heard them say as they scattered the dust on my grave. ‘She’ll watch over us from the other side,’” welcomes us to the exciting experiences in the book that will captivate the reader and make it difficult for them to put it down.We all laughed; it was such a Lagosian statement to make – the city was a melting pot for several tribes, from Igbo to Yoruba to Igala, and so we threw words around that weren’t indigenously ours and forgot that kudi was Hausa for money and ode, another word we often used, was Yoruba for a daft person. First, I think it important for every female to read this book, I strongly believe this should be a book introduced to students in senior secondary. It is important to educate girls while they are still young that marriage might be important but chasing your dreams and career as a woman is also very important. While the book is fiction, if you are a Nigerian woman or even a woman from any part of the world, you probably know at least one Uju. Uju, the lead character in this book marries a seemingly sweet man with a sonorous voice who she met in church. She had her reservations but wanted to please her mother who never seemed to see any good in her. What can I do?’ she asked. You can fight , I thought , you can fight for your daughters . But then again, who was I to speak of such things Akintunde Ajayi,’ he said, flashing another charismatic smile as we strolled out of the library, books in hand, and waited for me to introduce myself.

Sister Chinasa giggled nervously. ‘Of course, of course,’ she said pushing at my shoulder a bit too forcefully. Chinelo winked at me as I slowly got to my feet, stunned. Ada pulled me forward. ‘Have you met my friend? She’s new to our church. She really enjoyed your ministration too.’ Then he said the words I’d imagined but never thought possible. ‘Sister Uju would you be free on Tuesday after mid-week service? I’d like to take you out.’ Thank you,’ I mumbled with a shy smile as the bespectacled woman looked between us before grudgingly penning down the book titles on a card.The early-morning Sundays and loitering around the church premises long after sermons became a ritual, until even my friends, having reached their limit, abandoned me to my endeavours. ‘If you wake me up early again, I’ll break your head. I’ll see you in church!’ Ada said to me in a voice that told me she meant every word. I imagine a situation where Uju’s mother was a soft, a listener, a friend to Uju. I imagine that she would never end up with Gozie. Uju would have never been reassured to bring a boy home or even accept his proposal. She won’t be told to be grateful to Gozie for marrying her and maybe she would have had the courage to bring Akin home. In her debut novel, Aiwanose Odafen weaves a story from her personal life into different experiences and stories of three women, stories so strong and emotionally disheartening. We see themes of financial abuse, shame and growth conflicting between two generations of motherhood. In mama’s time, she is an enabler of the patriarchal system while Uju vows that her daughters would have their own voices. When you have read Buchi Emecheta’s books, Olisakwe’s Ogadinma you would clearly understand why reading Aiwonse today only brings tears to my eyes. Similar plot lines with similar struggles only tells you one thing; over the years the stories of women have not gotten better and we need to do more for our daughters. The title of each chapter highlights different expectations and requirements expected to be a woman: the harsh treatment towards being unmarried or giving birth to just female children; giving birth to two children of mixed genders and still expected to bear more against your preference; being the sole provider of your family as the wife and still getting abused physically by your spouse.