Among the flurry of novels set in Nigeria of late is The Nigerwife. It stands out because the author is neither Nigerian nor Caucasian, but is a Black English writer, Vanessa Walter. Based on her own experience living in Lagos, it has the unusual perspective of an Englishwoman with a Black Caribbean heritage who is also an outsider with a Western upbringing.
The novel is framed as part mystery, part social commentary. Nicole, one of the two main characters, is an English girl of part-Jamaican origin who fell in love with Tonye, a Nigerian studying in London. Overwhelmed and exhausted by motherhood, she agrees to move to Lagos where there is family support and plenty of household help.
Tonye’s family is part of the Nigerian elite, with a large house and compound, cars, drivers, gardeners, nannies, cooks and ‘houseboys’. The women wear Prada and Louboutin shoes, or expensive silk Nigerian outfits. Freed of household chores by the bevy of servants, they spend their days shopping and eating out. In this gilded cage, Nicole vanishes one day.
This disappearance brings in the second perspective in the novel: that of Claudine, Nicole’s aunt, who travels from London to get to the bottom of Nicole’s disappearance. She is politely welcomed into the household, but her inquiries are stonewalled.
The mystery, such as it is, failed to hold my interest, even as Nicole’s backstory was revealed. Nicole is a fairly self-centered and unappealing character. Bored and lonely, she had entered into an affair, but perhaps only to spite her husband who was also indulging in his own affairs. Some of the backstory is predictable: The family is ruled by Chief, the patriarch whose every utterance and irritable emotion is awaited with trepidation by his family and the servants. Boys are more important than girls, but the boys are expected to work in the family business with no desires of their own, while the girls are indulged and pampered.
The descriptions of wealthy Nigerian society are intriguing and well described. Other men too are dependent on the bounty of their wealthy patrons. One of those living off patronage is Nicole’s lover:
When all of it — the apartment, the art, the boozy nights out, the boat trips, the proximity to wealth — were stripped away, who would he be?
The ‘Nigerwives’ of the title are the foreign wives of Nigerians who have chosen to move to Lagos with their husbands. (As per this book, there are no ‘Nigerhusbands’). They are a diverse lot — some Caucasian, some African-American, one Taiwanese, some from other parts of Africa and the world, with accents ranging from crisp upper class British to pure Nigerian. They form a club of support, helping each other navigate the unknown Nigerian culture.
The novel alternates chapters between Nicole’s life in Lagos and Claudine’s investigations. The contrast and complexity of Nicole and Claudine’s experiences in Lagos are the most interesting part of the book. Both women are deeply interested and moved by the history of slavery, since their ancestors were likely shipped to the Caribbean via one of the Nigerian ports. Both are of African origin, but considered ‘less African’ by the Nigerians who see these other black people as having lost their African culture. Yet their British accents and lighter skin are valued and admired. Some of them are entrepreneurial in their own right.
On the fringes of upper class society are women like Kemi, an American who has moved to Nigeria and runs her own business. She has affairs with wealthy Nigerian men (some married) and hopes for a marriage herself, but is not viewed as marriage material by the men.
Unfortuntely, the characters lack depth. Claudine, in particular, comes across as rather naive. She is surprised when the family servants, completely dependent on the family for employment, are not willing to speak freely to her about Nicole’s life in Lagos. She is puzzled by why the family does not automatically buy a ticket for the driver when they go to a museum.
This Downton Abbey way of dealing with people might be normal here but it didn’t sit well with Claudine at all.
Nicole wants out of her marriage, but knows that it will be an impossible battle to get custody of her children — the courts and power are in the hands of the family. But it is not clear to the reader why she wants the children so badly: she spends her days and evenings with her lover, or out at restaurants, and leaves the children to be brought up almost entirely by their nanny. She is bitter that Tonye is not a more involved father, but Nicole is not an involved mother either. She has no plans for how she will make a living for herself and the boys if they escape.
Physical appearance is used as a marker for wealth, but also for other things:
both had features similar to their mother’s, but they had very different personalities, evidenced by the fact that Abi was self-contained and slim while Tamara tended to be indulged in every way as the youngest, evident in her ample curves.
I think I can see what the author is trying to get at here, but it’s an awkward sentence, and a lot to deduce from a body type.
it would have been interesting to learn more about Abi, the oldest daughter who runs a restaurant, and apparently flouts all convention by not being married at the age of 40. How is she able to stand up to the family pressure?
An uneven novel, but with some interesting insights into the lives of wealthy Nigerians.
Loved your opening paragraph, laying out the positionality of the author, and then flagging up the many complexities of the hierarchy of colour and origin and accent. BTW, at first when I saw the title, I thought it was a book set in Niger! I had no idea Nigerian wives are called Nigerwives. isn’t this a bit confusing for wives from Niger?
Lisa, based on what I read in the book, it’s the foreign wives of Nigerians who call themselves the ‘Nigerwives’. I don’t know if this is a term the author invented, or if it is used in Nigeria. I looked online, but all the links related to this book.
So right, what about women from Niger who are wives of Nigerians or Nigeriens (note spelling — I just learned this is the word for people from Niger). Or foreign-born women who are wives of Nigerians or Nigeriens? Your guess is as good as mine 🙂