A Story that Speaks Loud: A Review of Abi Daré’s The Girl with the Louding Voice
By Ilerioluwa Olatunde
Your schooling is your voice, child. It will be speaking for you even if you didn’t open your mouth to talk. (page 29)
Recently, I had a conversation with a friend inspired by the book The Girl with the Louding Voice. The discussion revolved around underage marriage and the prevailing patriarchal culture that perceives a male child to be more valuable than a girl child, which are prominent themes in the book. I remember the shock on my friend’s face when I said that such narratives, though challenging, are a reflection of the world we live in, mainly because he couldn’t understand why child marriage should still be happening in this century. At that moment, I was reminded of literature's profound impact on our awareness of social issues. The Girl with the Louding Voice is a compelling example of literature's ability to narrate important stories and ignite conversations that raise awareness and drive social change.
Set in Nigeria, the debut novel written by Abi Daré tells the story of Adunni, a fourteen-year-old girl who longs to be educated and aspires to become a teacher. This, her mother has told her, is the only way to get a “louding voice”—the ability to make her voice heard. However, in her village, societal expectations confine a girl child to a predetermined role, where she is primarily seen as valuable for marriage, childbirth (preferably male children), and tending to the needs of men. Hence, it’s hardly surprising how her father responded when she expressed her willingness to support the family if allowed to continue schooling. His dismissal of her aspirations mirrors the prevalent beliefs in their village, which diminish the importance of educating girls and relegate them to traditional gender roles.
God forbid. My sons will care for me. Born-boy is learning mechanic work at Kassim Motors. Very soon, Kayus will follow him. What will I do with you? Nothing. Fourteen years going fifteen is a very good age to marry. (page 31)
Following the loss of her supportive mother, who also served as the family's primary provider, Adunni's hopes of pursuing an education are shattered when she is forced into marriage as the third wife to a 60-year-old man, Moruf, who is eager for her to bear him a son. This marriage, arranged by Adunni's father, serves as a desperate means to settle his debts and meet his wants, like a new radio.
I am marrying Morufu because Papa is needing moneys for food and community rent and nonsense. (page 17)
At this moment, I questioned what Adunni’s father does for a living. Why didn’t he make any effort to provide for his family? The hypocrisy of Adunni's father struck me as particularly puzzling. While he seemed content with his wife being the family’s primary provider, he vehemently opposed his daughter's request to get educated and contribute to the family's well-being in the future. The author also sheds light on the disturbing perception of the girl-child as a means to an end. In such cases, girls are married off in exchange for necessities - money, food, and allowance, reflecting a distressing view of the low value placed on the girl-child. This sentiment becomes apparent through Morufu's description of his daughter:
Girls are only good for marriage, cooking food, and bedroom work. I have already find Kike a husband. I will use her bride-price to repair my car window, maybe buy more chickens for my farm, because I use too much plenty money to marry my sweet Adunni. (page 45)
The book further explores gender discrimination, highlighting the bias that deems a boy child more valuable than a girl child. It also highlights how access to opportunities is dependent on your gender. This distinction becomes evident in Morufu’s desire for a new wife solely because his existing children are girls. He goes further to threaten his pregnant second wife, warning that if she gives birth to another girl, she will be sent back to her father's house. It is also seen in the conversation between Adunni and Kike, Morufu’s daughter.
Khadija is carrying a new baby. I have warned her that if it is not a boy-child inside that stomach, her family will not collect food from me again. I swear I will kick her back to her hungry father’s house…” (page 45)
She sigh. “I wish I am a man.” I stop my hand. “Why you wish that?” “Because think it, Adunni,” she say. “All the mens in our village, they are allowing them learn school and work, but us the girls, they are marrying us from fourteen years of age. (page 72)
Adunni's resilience shines through in the face of adversity as she navigates the hostility and tension common in most polygamous homes – the maltreatment from the first wife, brutal nights with Morufu, and the terror of getting pregnant. Amidst all these, the only source of solace was her friendship with the second wife, Khadija. The bond between Adunni and Khadija exemplifies the love and support between two women navigating the complexities of their shared circumstances. Khadija, having been married off to Moruf at just 15 years old, could empathize with Adunni's situation and offer her guidance. I found Khadija's character particularly engaging, and I believe that one of the novel's greatest strengths lies in its portrayal of female relationships. However, when tragedy strikes, Adunni has to flee Ikati because village justice is jungle justice.
Adunni's journey takes a distressing turn as she finds herself in Lagos as a domestic servant, often referred to as a "househelp," within the lavish mansion of Big Madam, a wealthy businesswoman. Here, the harsh realities of domestic slavery take center stage in the plot. The author, with keen attention, addresses the prevalent issues of mistreatment, sexual harassment and abuse, physical and psychological abuse, and low or nonexistent pay that form the working conditions for many in such circumstances. It's worth noting that the use of young girls as domestic helpers is so prevalent in Nigeria that it is quietly and socially accepted, more like a norm in our society. Let's not forget about the prevalent cases of house help brutality and abuse at the hands of their employers. While Adunni’s experience as a househelp was emotionally disturbing, I appreciate how the author engaged with an issue that has unfortunately become normalized and prevalent in our society.
Big Madam subjects Adunni to punishingly long working hours and beatings over trivial matters or at the slightest provocation. She doesn’t pay, feed her properly, or enroll her in school. Adding to Adunni's plight is the mysterious disappearance of the previous housemaid and Big Daddy, Big Madam’s husband, who persistently harasses Adunni and relentlessly pursues his desire to sleep with her. Despite facing numerous adversities, Adunni nurtures her dream of pursuing an education and becoming a teacher by sneaking into her employer’s library to read, particularly The Book of Nigerian Facts and Collins English Dictionary. She also sought the help of Ms. Tia, a wealthy environmental consultant and doctor’s wife residing nearby, to coach her for a scholarship application. I found the dynamic friendship between Adunni and Ms. Tia particularly enriching, showcasing the power of knowledge sharing between individuals with different backgrounds and life experiences.
The novel not only sheds light on the daily struggles encountered by girls in Nigeria, particularly those marginalized by their socioeconomic background, but also reveals the broader challenges confronting women in our society. The author deftly navigates themes of domestic violence and how, in most cases, women are at the receiving end. Perhaps most strikingly, the story unveils this dynamic within Big Madam's household, where, despite her status as the sole breadwinner, she endures physical abuse, insults, and infidelity from her husband.
Ms. Tia's character reveals that being affluent and educated does not necessarily shield women from societal prejudices and degrading treatment. This truth is illustrated when her mother-in-law accuses her of infertility and subjects her to a harrowing cleansing involving brutal whipping by a prophet. The irony is glaring, as it's later revealed that Ms. Tia's husband, Ken, is the one struggling with infertility. This narrative exposes the pervasive tendency to blame women for marital woes, even in cases where they are not at fault. The author's exploration of spiritual abuse is particularly noteworthy, shedding light on the distressing practices endured by many women under the guise of religious practices.
But there are words in my head, many things I want to say. I want to tell Ms. Tia I am sorry I made her come here. I want to ask why the doctor didn’t come too. Why didn’t he come and get a beating like his wife? If it takes two people to make a baby, why only one person, the woman, is suffering when the baby is not coming? Is it because she is the one with breast and the stomach for being pregnant? Or because of what? I want to ask, to scream, why are the women in Nigeria seem to be suffering for everything more than the men? (page 276)
Written in first-person pronouns and narrated by the protagonist, The Girl with the Louding Voice is a deeply moving and intense novel. It is almost impossible not to be triggered by some of the events in this book. Despite her challenges, Adunni's strong-willed nature and wisdom beyond her age make her an endearing and inspiring character, such that you’re rooting for her from the beginning. Adunni’s character is one character in a book I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Furthermore, the author's masterful storytelling and rich character development make this book a masterpiece. The prose flows effortlessly, with short, suspenseful chapters that keep readers engaged; combined with a vivid cast of characters, the narration creates an unforgettable reading experience.
One of the strongest elements of the novel is Adunni’s narrative voice. Written in non-standard English to display the protagonist’s naivety and incomplete education, it adds a distinctive and authentic layer to the narrative. This unique writing style not only immerses the reader into the protagonist’s world but also offers insights into her thoughts, perspectives, and responses, fostering a deeper connection with her character. I also enjoyed Adunni’s description of things, which was often humorous.
The author’s mastery of words and literary devices is outstanding, evident in the clear and perceptive dialogue that brings each character to life. For Adunni, the dialogue easily shows how clever she is despite her background and inability to speak English well. As Adunni educates herself, her language evolves, reflecting her growth and adding depth to her character. Despite the book’s exploration of various themes—including womanhood, gender inequality, modern slavery, class inequality, and grief—the narrative remains cohesive and engaging, a testament to Daré's adept storytelling.
However, while the novel captivates with its character-driven plot and profound themes, I found myself left with unanswered questions by its conclusion. What was Bamidele’s fate? How did the village judge Adunni's father for failing to produce her? What was Morufu’s reaction when he discovered what had happened? Notwithstanding, Daré’s intention to shine a light on prevalent issues, particularly faced by young girls and women in society, was exceptionally executed. I realized that, like Adunni, we all have a “louding voice,” and we cannot afford to keep quiet about the issues facing our communities.
The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré is a powerful and poignant narrative that follows the inspiring journey of Adunni, who is determined to find her voice amidst societal constraints. The story told in this novel resonates deeply as it mirrors the struggles of countless young girls whose lives are dominated by poverty, lack of education, and modern slavery – issues all too familiar in our society today. But it is also a story of hope, offering us a glimpse of a brighter tomorrow. Through Adunni's courageous voice, the author emphasizes the importance of education and the relentless pursuit of dreams. The book reminds us that every child, regardless of gender, deserves a chance at education.
I look forward to reading about Adunni’s new exploits in the sequel, And So I Roar.
A day will come when my voice will sound so loud all over Nigeria and the world of it, when I will be able to make a way for other girls to have their own louding voice, because I know that when I finish my education, I will find a way to help them to go to school. A day will come when I will become a teacher, send money to buy Papa a car, or build a new house for him, or maybe I can even build a school in Ikati in the memory of my mama and of Khadija, and who knows what else tomorrow will bring? So, I nod my head yes, because it is true, the future is always working, always busy unfolding better things, and even if it doesn’t seem so sometimes, we have hope of it. (page 322)
Writer’s Biography
Ilerioluwa Olatunde is a creative writer and book reviewer interested in fiction, creative nonfiction, and performance poetry. She recently tried her hands at business writing, and she finds it amusing. She is a fellow of SprinNG and Speakin' Fingers Academy. Her work, which focuses on book reviews, lifestyle, and the human condition, has been published on platforms such as SprinNG and Shuzia. She draws inspiration from the books she reads, societal and economic issues, her personal life, and her relationship with God.
She is also an Economic Research Analyst and enjoys volunteering. When she is not writing, she reads, listens to music, has fun in her head, or does research.
