When Nigerian author
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie asked participants at her annual writers’ workshop in Lagos to introduce themselves, one woman was so excited to be close to her idol that she immediately burst into tears.
“She asked someone to get me water and my heart just melted,” says writer and actor Uzoamaka Power. “[That workshop] was one of the best moments of my life.”
That was June 2015 and the 25-year-old Power had read “every single thing” Adichie had written but most deeply connected with
Purple Hibiscus, the 2003 novel partly set in the Nsukka campus of the University of Nigeria where Power had studied.
Now 34 and a Nollywood star, Power is brimming with anticipation ahead of the release of
Dream Count, a long-awaited new novel from Adichie whose last book, Americanah, came out in 2013.
In fiecely patriotic
Nigeria, Adichie, regarded as one of the greatest writers of the 21st century, has reached folk hero status. While her feminist stances have made her a divisive figure among some, her simple to digest style and insistence on writing about everyday experiences have won her fans.
“She made it OK to explore our inner lives, even if we were ‘ordinary’,” says Saratu Abiola, a writer and policy strategist in Abuja. “She really elevated relatability.”
Power agrees. “In many ways, Chimamanda gave me permission to be ordinary and to be comfortable, and to be strong and to be solid in my ordinariness. Even for something like natural hair that people might consider trivial,” she says.
“To be able to live in this world and know that somebody as powerful as Chimamanda is fine with travelling and doing all these great things that she does and still looks gorgeous does something for young girls and women alike.”
The publishing industry was also influenced by Adichie’s style, says Ainehi Edoro, founder of literary blog
Brittle Paper and associate professor of English at University of Wisconsin-Madison.
“Before her, African fiction often came packaged with a kind of ethnographic weight – expected to ‘explain’
Africa to a western audience,” she says. “But Adichie’s work wasn’t performing ‘Africanness’ for an outsider’s gaze; it was literary, intimate, contemporary. She helped shift expectations – both in publishing and among readers – so that the next wave of African writers didn’t have to over-explain, dilute or justify their stories.”
After her first two novels, Adichie became well-known in literary circles but it was a Beyoncé collaboration in 2013, the same year that
Americanah was released, that saw her influence grow exponentially and elevated her to rock star status.
“I’d say she transcended being a literary favourite when she
teamed up with Beyoncé on Flawless and started to occupy more mainstream stages,” says Abiola, who has compared the roll out and anticipation for Dream Count to that of “a big music artist’s upcoming album”. “Nothing we love more than seeing a fellow Nigerian in the lights.”
In 2022, Adichie privately declined a national honour from the government, according to her spokesperson, but her home town conferred on her the chieftaincy title of Odeluwa – Igbo for “the one who writes for the world”.
Diehard fans began substituting their English first names with their Nigerian ones, including Power, who dropped Doris for Uzoamaka after a chat with Adichie at the end of the 2015 workshop.
Young women began following her Instagram for style tips and became cheerleaders for what they called her “rich aunty” style, while playfully leaving comments on her posts like: “What happened to Kainene?”, a reference to the
Half of a Yellow Sun character who does not return home at the end of the Biafran war.
Isioma Onyegikei, author of
the novel Aegis, sees Adichie as a bridge between older and contemporary African literary excellence. She says people have taken to Adichie because she is visible enough for many to feel “like they are able to touch her”.
“I read Flora Nwapa and Buchi Emecheta growing up but somehow they felt like an imagination,” says Onyegikei.
“It’s different with Chimamanda,” she adds. “I watch her videos, see her … share her pain of loss and it feels very relatable because she’s succeeding, she’s in her prime, using the same apps that we use and it almost feels like I can touch her and be the same person one day.”
On X, young feminists banded together after Americanah came out, holding conversations on gender-based violence, traditional gender roles, natural hair and equal opportunities for women – or the lack of – in the workplace, while calling her “my president” and “our leader”. The debates stirred the platform so much that the term Daughters of Chimamanda emerged first as a descriptor, then as a slur, for Nigeria’s feminists.
Perceptions of her began to change on social media after her stance on transgender people
triggered worldwide debate in 2017. Adichie has argued – and continues to do so – that the experiences of people who previously lived as men and were accorded male societal privileges before transitioning to be women, are significantly different from those of people who were born female.
Another comment, in a 2021 video – “I often say to young Nigerian feminists, please do not use feminism to justify your wickedness” – displeased some of her Nigerian fan base, partly because some said it had been weaponised on X.
Nevertheless, her literary icon status holds fast and many of her readers see her as a multidimensional figure, much like a character in one of her books.
“Chimamanda is very interesting,” said Onyegikei. “Many of the people – particularly guys – who hated her guts for her stance on feminism now stan [admire] her for her stance on transwomen. The people who stanned her then for her views on feminism can’t stand her because of transwomen. All in all, love or hate her, you must respect her.”
By Eromo Egbejule,
The Guardian
