CHAPTER ONE

1.1 Background to the study

In a study of this kind, it is imperative to attempt a survey of trends, since the writer emphasizes

on the evolution and development of African novel, a kind of leap backwards to see what

obtained. Lindfors (2002), while writing on early Nigerian literature, which is also applicable to

sub-Sahara African fiction generally, argues that “WHEN EXAMINING ANYTHING THAT

HAS CHANGED over time, usually it is a good thing to begin at the beginning. The past can

teach us much about the present […]”

(1). Lindfors‟ contention calls for a re-examination of developments in African novel since its

evolution in the 1950s. Doing so will help us a great deal to understand the present development.

The African writer at the evolution of African fiction in the 1950s has engaged the African

society as he mirrors a world-view that demonstrates culture conflict, cultural assertions, as a

way of re-establishing a debased African culture, consequent upon colonial contact. Palmer

(1982) writing on the emergence of African novel remarks that: The emergence of very large

corpus of African novels in both English and French has been one of the most interesting literary

developments of the last twenty-five years (between 1950s and late 1970s). It was perhaps

inevitable that the movement towards self-determination and the emergence into prominence of a

powerful, well educated, and articulate elite, would result in a number of works of art designed

to express the strength, validity, and beauty of African life and culture.

(viii) In the main, literary expressions in Africa have tried to fictionalise the happenings around

and within Africa, from pre-colonial times to the post-colonial era. From each region of sub-

1
Sahara Africa, one observes that fictional creations represent the peoples socio-economic and

political experiences.

[…] the literature [novel genre inclusive] of Southern Africa is wholly concerned with

the theme of struggle and conflict – conflict between the white conquerors and the

conquered blacks, between white masters and black servitors, between the village and the

city. (76)

However Nkosi (1981) tells us that: Nkosi in this statement above draws attention to the literary

expressions of his people (Southern Africans) during the apartheid years, when the white

minority political overlords lorded it over the black majority. In fact, Nkosi concludes that

“Southern African literature has always been a literature of protest and social commitment…”

76), consequent upon the oppressive and exploitative and racially discriminatory society they

find themselves born into. Notable writers who have emerged from this region include Peter

Abrahams, Richard Rive, Alex La Guma to mention a few.

East and Central African literary writings, one observes, reflect mainly colonial and post-colonial

cultural dilemmas. These gave rise to the kind of conflict and resistance fictional creations of

writers like Ngugi wa Thiong‟o from East Africa. Msiska (1997) comments that: “The dominant

pre-occupation throughout the history of the literature of the region has been with the place of

African culture in the new cultural dispensation” (62).

Williams (1997) comments that in West Africa, Chinua Achebe for instance presents us with a

cosmos where characters dramatise cultural and post-independence disillusionment (33-36). It is

worth mentioning that novel writing in Africa has in no small measure occurred from the West

African sub-region where notable writers like Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka (Nigeria), Ayi

2
Kwei Armah (Ghana), Mongo Beti, Sembene Ousmane (Senegal), to mention a few happened to

at the forefront of African Novel writing. Consequently, all these sub-Sahara African literary

artists created in their world, a society that mirrors the prevailing cultural, socio-economic,

political and moral or philosophical realities of their times. Early writers invented a “…

lachrymal” world, a kind of “weeping literature, a literature of lamentation, following Africa‟s

unhappy experience with slavery and colonialism[…]” (1), according to Nnolim (2006). Indeed,

Nnolim further argues that “[m]odern African literature[…] arose after the psychic trauma of

slavery and colonialism had made her literature one with a running sore, a stigmata that forced

her writers to dissipate their energies in a dogged fight to reestablish the African personality” (2).

No wonder Ezenwa-Ohaeto (2003) in Chinua Achebe: Straight from the Heart quotes Chinua

Achebe thus:

“Colonialism was the most important event in our history […], it is the most important single

thing that has happened to us after the slave trade” (4-5). Palmer (1979) corroborates these

conclusions when he says that:

Broadly speaking, the African novel is a response to and a record of the traumatic

consequences of the impact of wester capitalist colonialism on the traditional

values and institutions of the African people. This largely explains the African

writers‟ initial preoccupation with the past. (63)

Besides, many other writers focused their critical searchlight on sub-Sahara Africa‟s post-

independence problems such as political upheavals, military dictatorship and tyranny, corruption,

wars, social injustice and religious hypocrisy, among others. In this regard, Larson (1978)

reminds us that “The African writer himself has almost always been a microcosm of the

3
accumulated experiences of his society” (279-280). These accumulated experiences include post-

independence problems in sub-Sahara Africa as mentioned above.

Since the late 1980s, there emerged a crop of artistically adventurous writers who gave an

impetus to sub-Sahara African fiction. These writers include males and females in good number

who in their various ways narrate their travails, a kind of autobiographical voice in some cases,

to showcase and dramatise national tragedies and traumas. Indeed, these writers narrate their

homelands in an attempt to interrogate the current happenings in Africa. This recent development

in African fiction fulfils Nnolim‟s (2010) prediction while writing on trends in Nigerian novel,

which is also applicable to the sub-Sahara African novel, that “[…]if diversity has marked the

Nigerian [sub-Sahara African] novel so far, greater diversity is to be expected in the future”

(204). That greater and future diversity is the current experience in sub-Sahara African narratives

in the late 20th century to date. This vision gains fulfillment in the emergence of these writers

who imaginatively capture the sub-Sahara African society, in order to expose the pains, struggles

and sorrows of a people who find themselves in helpless post-colonial situations, arising from

power relations.

Indeed, abuse of power on the part of the rulers and heads of domestic homes against their

subordinates has become a major socio-political challenge in the society. In the sub-Sahara

African society, the lopsided relationship between the rulers and the ruled at the civic level, and

between heads of family and members of the family at the home space, has attracted African

novelists who imaginatively dwell on this issue as a way of demonstrating its prevalence and the

need to address the ugly trend.

1.2 Statement of problem

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Existing studies on sub-Sahara African novels written from the late 1980s have focused critical

attention on thematic issues such as gender relations, disillusionments and exploitations, without

giving adequate attention to the issue of abuse of power and resistance. This study thus examined

the forms of abuse of power at the public and domestic spaces and forms of resistance to the

abuses in the selected novels, with a view to establishing the features of the abuse of power and

resistance.

1.3.Aim of the study

To critically examine the portrayal of abuse of power and resistance in selected post-colonial sub-Saharan African
novels, exploring the complexities of post-colonial societies and the ways in which literature reflects and challenges
dominant power structures.

The specific objectives

1. To analyze the representation of abuse of power in selected post-colonial sub-Saharan African novels.

2. To examine the forms and strategies of resistance depicted in the novels.

3. To investigate the relationship between power dynamics, cultural identity, and resistance in post-colonial
societies.

1.4 .Research Questions

1. How do selected post-colonial sub-Saharan African novels portray the abuse of power and its impact on
individuals and communities?

2. What forms of resistance are depicted in the novels, and how effective are they in challenging dominant power
structures?

3. How do the novels represent the intersection of power dynamics, cultural identity, and resistance in post-colonial
societies?

1.5.Significance of the study

- Contributes to understanding the complexities of post-colonial societies.

- Provides insights into the ways in which literature reflects and challenges dominant power structures.

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- Informs strategies for social change and resistance.

- Enhances understanding of the intersection of power dynamics, cultural identity, and resistance.

- Fosters critical thinking and analysis of literary representations of power and resistance.

1.6 Scope of the study

The study focuses on sub-Sahara African novels. It deals with novelists who started

publishing from the late 1980s. It will be observed that some of the authors to be examined

include females. This does not in any way make or turn the study into that of African female

novelists. This is not our intention, but to give a representation to women in the study as they

have become prominent among these writers, unlike during the time of Nwapa, when they were a

few voices.

This study therefore examines abuse of power and resistance in the selected postcolonial

sub-Sahara African novels. Attention will be focused on abuse of power in public and domestic

spaces, and the strategies of resistance against such power abuses.

CHAPTER TWO

Review of Related literature

In African literature, one notes three phases namely, pre-colonial, colonial and post-

colonial. Pre-colonial Africa was one rich cultural and socially cohesive society where

individuals were culturally and socially threaded and bound with one religious philosophy.

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Literature at this time was oral. This was performed in the form of folktales, legends, proverbs,

songs, chants usually performed during moonlight plays, festivals and some special occasions in

communities. These oral performances function as sources of entertainment, education and

information. This is where oral and written literature have a convergence – entertainment,

education and information. Writing about the history of Africa south of the Sahara, Awoonor

(2005) comments that:

The institution of chieftaincy, the divine concept of the role of chiefs, the cult of

ancestors, initiation of the various rites of passage from birth to death, the nature and

power of kinship groups based on blood, ideas about the Supreme Creator, and the role

and assignments of minor gods and deities, the metaphorical conception of the world –

these are all generally shared in a united culture and origin in the very dim past. (4):

Besides, while orality characterises pre-colonial literature, colonial literature is characterised by

written form. This is as a result of formal education which gave reading and writing skills to the

colonised. This helped the colonised to champion the course of nationalism which culminated in

the granting of independence to colonised States. Therefore, one can conclude that colonial

literature was an offshoot of colonialism in colonially dominated sub-Sahara African States.

Through the literature, writers protested against colonialism, and as such deconstructed the

colonial engagement. Writers whose works dramatise this encounter and tensions caused by

foreign culture include Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart and Arrow of God), Ngugi wa

Thiong‟o (Weep Not Child, The River Between and A Grain of Wheat) Alex La Guma (The

Stone Country and A Walk in the Night), Camara Laye (The African Child) and Amadou

Hampâté Bâ (The Fortunes of Wangrin), to mention a few. Onwuekwusi (2005) argues that

literature was one of the ways Africans deconstructed the colonial engagement (76).

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 Writing on the post-colonial condition of African literature, Gover, Gonteh- Morgan and

Bryce (2000) argue that:

For many of the critics and scholars who work in the field of African literature, the

phrase/postcolonial has a straight forward historical meaning, as a term for

contemporaryAfrican writing during the last thirty to forty years after many nations on

the continent attained political independence from European colonialism.

During this past generation, African writers have grappled with the colonial legacy and

other disillusioning realities of postcolonial politics. In many cases, the hopes and

expectations born in the 1960s with political independence have developed into bitter

fruit. African writers have often served as the leading social critics of their own societies

[…]. (2).

In this editorial comment, Gover et al argue that post-independence Africa has been a society

where the hopes and aspirations of the masses turned into cold ash as they get confronted with

myriads of political, social and economic problems. Thus disillusionment sets in.

However, colonial struggles from colonial contact and tensions gave rise to political

freedoms in many parts of colonised Africa from 1957 with Ghana, to Nigeria in 1960. And this

political freedom to these States and others gave high hopes of post-independence well-being.

Every African looked forward to a life full of freedom, social and economic wealth. No sooner

had African States gained political independence than frustrations and disillusionments arising

from failure of African independence and, bureaucratic inefficiency set in. Thus, post-colonial

Africa began to degenerate and wallow in one socio-economic and political crises and another.

At this juncture, post-colonial issues began to attract the critical lens of fiction writers who used

their art to mirror sub-Sahara Africa as a failed society. Shohat (2009) argues that “the „post-

8
colonial‟ did not emerge to fill an empty space in the language of political-cultural analysis”

(100). He adds that the post-colonial is “[…] a new designation for critical discourses which

thematise issues emerging from colonial relations and their aftermath, covering a long historical

span (including the present)” (101).

It is sad to observe that post-colonial Africa is a disappointment to the hopes and

aspirations of anti-colonial struggles. The aftermath of colonialism is a total failure in the post-

colonial present; the expected good life for all citizens did not materialise.

“What is the post-colonial?” (13), Young (2009) asks. After much argument that some

see the term “post-colonial” as coming after colonial, resistance to the colonial at any time,

Young concludes that the term might simply be referred to:

as the aftermath of the colonial. The situations and problems that have followed

decolonisation – whether in the formerly colonising or colonised country – are then

encompassed in the term post-coloniality. (13)

Continuing in his argument, Young asks again:

What then would the term post-colonialism mean? Whereas

postcoloniality describes the condition of the post-colonial, post-colonialism describes its

politics – a radical tricontinental politics of transformation […] the postcolonial is

simply the product of human experience, but human experience of the kind that has to

typically been registered or represented at any institutional level. (13)

Young’s position above reveals “the post-colonial” to be a product of human experience

emerging from colonial relations and the consequences of such relationship. It is temporal and

spatial as it deals with the politics of power transformation at a time when colonialists held sway,

spanning into the present in Africa‟s once colonised space, in this era of decolonization.

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Zeleza (2006) in his essay on post-colonialism quotes Loomba thus:

It indicates a new way of thinking in which cultural, intellectual, economic or political

processes are seen to work together in the formation, perpetration and dismantling of

colonialism. (Loomba). (94)

This new way of thinking, according to Loomba, quoted in Zeleza, is as a result of the messed up

politics of post-independence Africa. Those who took over the reins of power from the

colonialists, it is observed, have failed woefully as the post-colonial society got plunged into

socio-economic and political imbroglios. This is against the high hopes of good life which served

as impetus to the nationalist struggles for independence. In an introduction to postcolonial

theory, Childs and Williams (1982) say that:

The obvious implication of the term post-colonial is that it refers to a period coming after

the end of colonialism[…] that sense of an ending of the completion of one period of

history and the emergence of another,[…]. That so many millions now live in the world

formed by decolonisation is one justification for the use of the term post-colonial. Post-

colonialism may then refer in part to the period after colonialism,[…]. (1

Childs and Williams. conclusion on what post-colonialism stands for, is quite impressive as it

gives a simple and meaningful insight into the term.

Schraeder (2004) in his book on African politics and society says that ¡°During the

1950s, African novelists continued to glorify the African past and added a new twist:

The intrusion of colonial cultures on traditional African cultures¡± (159). But it must be noted

that African leaders appear to, and immediately after independence in the late 1950s and in the

1960s, enjoy what we could call relative peace and well-being as they bask in the euphoria of

independence from colonial overlords. However, Schraeder, to quote him again comments that:

10
 After the initial honeymoon period African leaders enjoyed in the first decades of

independence, a variety of negative trends . socio-economic decline, the rise of single-

party rule, the increase in military rule, and the general authoritarianism inherent in

numerous African states . led African novelists of the 1960s to begin articulating themes

of disenchantment with national elites and disillusionment with previously held ideas of

progress. (161)

In sub-Sahara African society, independence struggles were to make life better. But after

independence, civil life came to be disrupted by single-party, sit-tight rulers and military

administrators who turned dictators and tyrants. Consequently, this ill-wind of highhandedness

and oppression engendered by bad leadership, also found its way into the domestic life of many

Africans. Hence we find people imitate the toughness of the military, in an attempt to make a

point or superimpose themselves on others, either as fathers or husbands. This tough attitude

towards a subordinate is also a demonstration of present reality in Nigeria. In the present day

Nigeria political administration, the ruled (the subordinates) see the ruler (the president) as a

weakling. This assessment is because he does not seem to have the expected strong-arm tactics

or tough bearing like that of a military tyrant or an erstwhile-military-officer-turned civilian-

president which they had become accustomed. Consequently, the masses seem to have

unwittingly accepted military toughness or high handedness in governance and the home as a

necessity. Even then, people have a natural urge to resist injustice and reject situations that are

thought to be detrimental to their well being. Thus, one can safely conclude at this point that

there is abuse of power- in politics and in homes . in contemporary sub-Sahara African society. It

is observed in the society that citizens and family members no longer sit complacently and watch

11
oppressive use of power in governance or in the family. Victims thus evolve strategies to resist

this. And this indeed attracts the creative energies of the novelists selected for this study.

African literature, prose fiction in particular, dwells more on African experiences after

colonialism, the post-colonial period. Most writers find myriads of issues confronting African

society, which compelled them to zoom their artistic lens on these problems. Ugwanyi (2011) in

his abstract on an essay on Ngugi wa Thiong‟o‟s Wizard of the Crow, reminds us that:

The colonial experiences of most African countries have refused to go after many

decades since the colonial masters left. This is as a result of the myriad of social,

political and economic problems still facing the continent. Independence promised a lot

of good things for the masses and this brought about their active participation in the

struggle for independence alongside the nationalist fighters in some African countries. It

is pertinent to note also that some countries got their independence with fewer struggles

though with equal promise of good life for the masses. Many factors have contributed to

the plaguing of African development, with the major factor being bad leadership[…].

Why has leadership styles of most African countries refused to change for the better in

spite of the rapid development trends all over the world today? (218)

This observation Ugwanyi makes above captures post-colonial African experience. It is sad to

note that despite the high promise during independence struggles, post-colonial Africa embraced

a deluge of socio-economic and political, and even cultural problems.

Recent African novelists have been observed to concern themselves with the African

landscape. In doing this, they focus their artistic lens on post-colonial issues. It is noted that their

writings reveal issues such as economic, social, political and moral problems in contemporary

African society. These indeed are significant ideas in respect of the prevailing social conditions

12
of post-independence Africa. Okuyade (2010) confirms this when he tells us that “African

literature at large […] has been thematically bifocal. It is either geared towards the issue of

democratisation or the appraisal of post-independence malaise” (20). Part of the malaise is the

politics of abuse of power which has forced victims to resist its abuse.

Writing on power as a political science concept, Grigsby (2005) asks: “What is power?” (37),

and responds thus: “[…] power is an ability to influence an event or outcome that allows the

agent to achieve an objective and/or to influence another agent to act in a manner in which the

second agent, on its own would not choose to act” (37). Boonstra and Gravenhorst (1998) argue

that power is “[…] a dynamical social process affecting opinions, emotions, and behaviour of

interest groups in which inequalities are involved with respect to the realisation of wishes and

interests” (99).

Uwasomba (2006) thus adds that “Power is also the ability to influence those who could

determine outcomes, and the ability to influence others in one‟s interest. Power is therefore, a

component of politics the ruling class uses effectively to maintain and sustain their hegemony”

(96).

Looking at these views on power, one agrees that it is a social and political referent. One

uses it to influence the other to one‟s own interest, or advantage. An abuse of such exercise of

power becomes operative when one who wields it employs it high-handedly or excessively to

force another to submission. This happens in politics or governance where rulers abuse power in

their attempt to maintain the status quo with the ruled. In such an environment, resistance

becomes the only liberation tool in the hands of the oppressed. Uwasomba argues that

“[l]iberation is an arm or product of resistance […]” (96). This lopsided relationship between the

13
rulers and the ruled, super-ordinate and subordinate is the focus of this study of the selected

novels.

In terms of critical attention, the selected novels, to the best of the knowledge of this

writer, have not attracted much critical comments. During the research for the study, getting

critical materials was a herculean task, as in most cases, nothing meaningful exists, except a few

reviews.

However, Chimamada Ngozi Adichie‟s Purple Hibiscus appears to be the most critiqued.

One of the many critics who have examined the novel include Okuyade (2009) who argues that:

The book begins with silence and ends with silence. However, the silence at the

concluding phase of the book, which also marks the wholeness of Kambili’s

metamorphosis, is distinct. At the beginning of the book, the children and their mother

rely heavily on silence and live on assumptions. This silence is dopey and empty[…].

(257)

Reading the novel, one tends to agree with Okuyade who concludes that the novel is built on

silence, as the watchword in Eugene Achike‟s household is silence. Children, mother and even

house-help, all have to live in silence as the head of the home, Eugene Achike, Kambili‟s father,

appears unfriendly. One does not agree totally with Okuyade that the novel ends with silence. A

critical study reveals that towards the end of the novel, the funless and silent atmosphere give

way as Kambili and Jaja laugh, and mother smiles in the closing part of the narrative. This

loosening of the tension-filled atmosphere in the Achike household is as a result of the death of

the fanatical tyrant, Eugene Achike who takes delight in his dictatorial attitude towards his

family. Okuyade (2010) comments that:

14
Adichie‟s Purple Hibiscus begins at(sic) in medias res, realised through flashback. The novel

charts the physical and psychological development of the protagonist, Kambili and her brother

Jaja. A development which designates their struggle to define themselves beyond the stiffened

and funless world, their Calvinistic father has designed for them […]. (10)

In this excerpt, Okuyade’s critical examination reveals Adichie as a writer whose Purple

Hibiscus dramatises her protagonist’s development. In fact, he concludes that Purple Hibiscus

fits into the category of the female bildungsroman (a novel of growing up). He further argues

that Kambili’s physical and psychological development is exposed. Inasmuch as this appears to

be the case, one notes that Adichie does not open her tale on Kambili in the latter’s infancy but at

age sixteen (16) while she is already in school. Writing about a child’s development, physically

and psychologically and, even emotionally, one would need to take up the child from infancy in

order to be objective in the evaluation and conclusion reached on the child. While Okuyade’s

effort is quite commendable, one disagrees with him from the foregoing arguments being put

forward.

In her review of Adichie‟s Purple Hibiscus, Nyairo (2006) comments that the novel:

[…] focused on the emotional flowering of its young heroine, and on the psychological

effects of her father‟s religious fanaticism had on his wife and children. The

disintegration of family the novel portrays with its challenge of patriarchy, symbolises

the fragility engendered by political dictatorship and the anxieties and uncertainties

generated by military rulers. (16)

Nyairo from the above, no doubt, focuses on the development of Kambili, Adichie’s chief

character in the novel being examined, as Okuyade does. But in the case of Nyairo, she reveals in

addition, that Kambili’s father’s religious fanaticism has adverse effects on the entire household.

15
Thus, she concludes that family disintegration results, as this symbolises the fragility in the wider

society as a result of political dictatorship.

This argument appears laudable but Nyairo does not give detailed illustration from the

text of how patriarchy poses a challenge and how this captures the uncertainties and anxieties in

the homeland.

Bryce (2008) says that “Purple Hibiscus takes the form of a bildungsroman set in a

society in which attitudes have hardened, where violence that was external has become

entrenched in the family” (58).

No doubt, Bryce looks at the tension and violence Adichie laces Kambili’s world with, and sees

it as one that is entrenched. In addition, she writes that:

The Purple Hibiscus of the title, which grows in Auntie Ifeoma’s garden, is counterpoised

with the red hibiscus of home. It is metonymic of a series of oppositions on which the

novel is structured: silence and speech, repression and spontaneity, state violence (for

example, public executions) and family abuse, censorship and press freedom, harsh and

gentle versions of masculinity. (59)

Bryce appears to sum up Adichie’s pre-occupation in the above excerpt. But it is obvious

that Purple Hibiscus, as the novel is titled, refers to, according to her, the protagonist’s repressed

speech, state violence, press censorship and Eugene Achike’s show of manly force in his home.

Okuyade (2011) while writing on the Bildungsroman as a narrative form employed by

Adichie in Purple Hibiscus, comments that:

Adichie’s appropriation of the form is more ambitious because it aptly foregrounds

duality as an important feature of the postcolonial African Bildungsroman. She uses the growth

16
process of her protagonist to interrogate that of her nation. Thus socio-political problems are

explored as analogous to themes of patriarchal dominance. (353)

There is no doubt here that Okuyade sees Purple Hibiscus as a novel of growth.

Adichie’s effort at this form is used to reveal the growth process of her nation as

sociopolitical problems like oppression and abuses are prevalent in Kambili’s home as well as

the outside. The developmental process of a child is akin to that of a nation, Okuyade suggests.

Indeed, Ouma (2009), writing on childhood in Purple Hibiscus argues that:

Purple Hibiscus, Adichie’s first novel, is an ideal case for the study of childhood.

Through the child protagonist and her memories, the text foregrounds ways in which

childhood can be considered as a set of ideas in examining the underlying problem of

identity. By means of memory, we are able to engage with the time of childhood

experienced through the relations with the father figure. In this way, childhood is seen as

applying with an inherited sense of history [¡¦]. The representation of childhood in

Purple Hibiscus is thus informed by the experiences of movement and contact with other

worlds [¡¦]. (49)

The above excerpt from Ouma shows that Adichie’s novel handles the issue of growing

up . childhood. But specifically, the critic concludes that through memories, the novelis focuses

on ways childhood could be seen as a set of ideas on the issue of identity.

Oha (2007), commenting on motif of freedom in Purple Hibiscus says that:

Adichie sees the African people as sufferers of bad governance due to many years

of military rulership(sic|). Political freedom is almost a dream in most African

states. Political freedom seems a long sought-after need of the Nigerian people.

17
 Adichie takes a historical stance in the exposition of the travails of military

oddities in the novel. (203)

On gender motif he argues that ¡°Adichie revisited the issue of children as determinant of

marriage in Africa¡± (204) and concludes on the motif of innocence thus:

The motif of innocence helps Adichie to achieve concrete realism devoid of

exaggerations. In the world of the child, details are hardly seen but truth is hardly

compressed. All these are seen in Purple Hibiscus. It is a novel shrouded in the reality of

odds and the pains of anarchy. (208)

Oha in this contribution above shows that Adichie.s Purple Hibiscus is one that is built on motifs

of freedom, gender and innocence. In his discourse, he sees the postcolonial African as one who

is caged, lacking basic freedoms, as a result of military rule in most African States. He also

concludes that children determine marriage in Africa, but he does not show with ample evidence

from the novel how this is so. However, his argument that in the innocent world of Kambili,

details are not given, but the truth of incidents are not covered, is quite impressive as a critical

reader would note this narrative pattern of Adichie who chooses to focus on the child. More

details than the author gives should have been dramatised for a full presentation of the motif of

innocence in the novel.

Besides, Hron (2008), while examining the figure of the child in Adichie’s Purple

Hibiscus argues that “Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus ostensibly examines the clash of civilisations

characterising contemporary Nigeria: between Western and traditional values, between urban

and rural settings, or between public and private spheres” (30). She latter says’ Adichie’s Purple

Hibiscus examines gender violence and domestic abuse, or more implicitly broaches issues of

censorship, state violence or corruption[…]” (44).

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 Hron’s argument above reveals Adichie’s novel to have focused on culture clash,

violence as demonstrated in the child, Kambili. In other words, Adichie uses the figure of the

child at the home-front to capture the wider society. Indeed, one tends to agree with this

conclusion because in the novel, one notes the tension caused by religious culture in Kambili’s

home, and state violence. Similarly, Cooper (2010) comments thus:

What we witness in the novel is the attempt to re-fetishise objects linked to pre-colonial

rituals, but concretised with the Church and with European culture and integrated into a

global modernity. The figurines, in other words, are Mama’s protecting spirits, albeit

hybridised in the African Catholic home. The étagére was her shrine; the spirits of old

have resurged. Papa has desecrated the sacred space and he will be punished. (5)

Cooper here makes one valid and obvious point. She sees Kambili’s mother as one who is highly

devoted to her figurines. The latter feels religious and thus spiritual satisfaction with her Catholic

faith. Hence Cooper could conclude that she feels protected. This critical position is

commendable as the crux of the crisis in the novel is religious loyalty. Ojaruega (2009) on her

part, writes on Adichie thus:

[…] she recounts the story [Purple Hibiscus] through a female using the first person

narrative. Hers is a slow and simple form of narrative using the teenage view (Kambili

Achike) through which she comments on the blatant misuse of privileges. This is

enunciated through parallelism. The religious fanaticism of a father, Eugene Achike, who

runs his household like a barrack, punishing any misdemeanour from his wife and

children with physical and psychological torture, runs alongside the incarceration and

even wanton killing of innocent and helpless citizens by a military regime that brooks no

opposition. (102-103)

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 It is instructive to note Ojaruega’s conclusion here. She draws reader’s attention to the

fact that Adichie’s novel is told in the first person and the tale reveals abuse of privilege of

being a father and a ruler. In the home, the father runs the house with military force, parallel to

the harsh military rule hoisted over the masses outside the home – the entire society.

Nevertheless, Awhefeada (2009) focuses on individual consciousness in the novel and concludes

that:

In Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus, one encounters the formation of an individual

consciousness in Kambili who is the novel’s narrator. Kambili’s consciousness is hinged

on a duality which manifests through tyranny both in the home front and on the national

scene. Though not in a physical prison, Kambili’s home has similar suffocating structures

which not only abridge her freedom, but also encrypt her being, her mother‟s and her

brother’s (Jaja). (115-116)

Awhefeada’s critical position shows that Adichie‟s narrator, Kambili, is in a prison – her home –

which the father has made to look like one, as there is no freedom, just as there is none outside.

But Otu (2011) argues that:

The novelist [Adichie] creates a representative family which has been totally cut off from

their life source – culture. Eugene Achike, head of the family, is an effective tool in the

neo-colonialist machinery of economic exploitation and cultural imperialism[…]. Eugene

is a completely assimilated Africa. Brainwashed to accept racial and cultural inferiority,

he takes upon himself the duty of “salvaging” or “civilizing” everyone around him by

Europeanising them. (345)

Out’s argument appears satirical as he sees Eugene Achike as a brainwashed African in the

hands of the West, being used as a tool for cultural imperialism in the home in particular, and

20
society at large. In fact, Eugene Achike in the novel is for everything Christian and against

anything heathen in Christianity, a culture he grew up with.

Looking at critics submissions on Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus so far, it shows their focus

to be cultural, political, sociological, linguistic and artistic. But interesting and a deviation from

the above critical observation is Azumurana’s (2012) critical focus. His study of the novel

reveals Adichie’s exploration of her dominant character’s psychological being. He argues that

“little or no attention has been given to the psychological motivation (which is rooted in their

[Adichie’s dominant characters] familial and filial relationship) for the actions or inactions of

Adichie’s major characters” (133). He thus concludes

It is therefore, obvious that Adichie’s characters are not just products of their cultural or

sociological experience, but also of their psychological conflicts, which emanate from

their familial and filial relationships. While Eugene is conflicted by his familial and filial

relationship, his children (Jaja and Kambili) are products of their familial affiliation.

Accordingly, there is much more to Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus than being a cultural,

postcolonial and sociological narrative. (143-144)

Azumurana’s conclusion on Adichie’s novel is engaging as he examines it from a psychological

point of view. Indeed reading the novel, one wonders why Eugene Achike behaves so

fanatically. His Catholic upbringing and missionary tutelage seem to have ingrained in him and

altered his emotional and psychological development. And this, as Azumurana infers, affected

his relationships at home and outside his home. His motives and actions are psychologically

driven. However, Westman (2008) examines the novel as a postcolonial text and writes thus:

21
 The postcolonial effects that occur in Purple Hibiscus are many and the characters are

influenced by living in a postcolonial country. Adichie criticises the colonial power and

the way European beliefs and culture have been introduced to the native people of Africa.

In Purple Hibiscus, she presents the negative effects of colonialism through the eyes of

the main character, Kambili. She has been taught through her father, “a good native”,

that the white way is superior to the native way. However, as time moves on, she realises

that there are flaws in the way she has been brought up by her father. She is torn between

the coloniser’s ways and the native ways. (18)

Westman’s view above is nothing but a clash of cultural values as the after-effects of colonialism

in postcolonial Africa. Thus, he argues that Purple Hibiscus shows a critical view of culture in

contact with the colonised and the sad and negative effect on the colonised as dramatised in

Eugene Achike’s household where African cultural values are in conflict with Western cultural

values via religious piety – Christianity. Fwangyil (2011) on her part argues that Purple Hibiscus

is “a dramatic indictment of the oppressive attitudes of men towards women and children that

they are supposed to love and care for” (263). Fwangyil in the above points out that Adichie’s

novel portrays men who oppress their wives and children they should have cared for. But she

does not demonstrate how oppressive the man is, and whether resistance was put up. He does not

also show how much the love and care Adichie clothes Eugene Achike with. Nonetheless, we

can conclude thus far that all the critical views on Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus are not only valid

but also commendable critical efforts on a novel emerging from a young writer. It is obvious that

none of the critics examined paid adequate attention to the issue of abuse of power and

resistance.

Another novel selected for this study is Tiyambe Zeleza’s Smouldering Charcoal.

22
 This Zimbabwean writer has in no small way fictionalised post-colonial issues besetting

Zimbabwe in particular and Africa in general. Though published since 1992, the novel has not

attracted much critical attention. However, a few scholarly comments exist on Smouldering

Charcoal. One of such is a review from Chirambo (1999). He writes thus:

Smouldering Charcoal also shows why the politics of oppression and exploitation in

Africa is a vicious cycle that may never be broken. It is a story of frustrated dreams and

aspirations, of disillusionment with post-independence leadership with no break in the

cycle. It reviews the mistakes committed at independence which seriously shadow the

prospects of regaining the dreams and aspirations of independence even through recent

democratic efforts in many nations in Africa. (121)

In the above, Chirambo sees Smouldering Charcoal as a novel Zeleza uses to portray the

frustrations, disappointments and disillusionments in post-independence Africa. Though a

review, Chirambo does not show how Zeleza invents the politics of oppression and exploitation

in Africa and as these lead to frustrations and disappointments in the society.

In addition, Page (2000) on his part, while commenting on Zeleza’s characterisation,

argues that “ Zeleza’s characters are sharply drawn and seem to voice fairly clear impressions

about their circumstances” (303). He concludes that Zeleza’s “Smouldering Charcoal represents

an intellectual and artistic pinnacle in his work, bringing together many of the themes that others

expressed particularly” (298).

Page, in his brief essay on Smouldering Charcoal focuses on characterisation in the

novel, but does not show enough from his effort. Mielk (1995) reviews the same novel and writes
that “Zeleza critiques medicine, education, politics, the prison system, gender relations,
economics, the treatment of the exile, and much more – all in a few well-written pages” (526).

23
 A study of Smouldering Charcoal no doubt reveals Zeleza’s critical vision on the themes.

But Mielk does not show even a glimpse of how the novelist presents these issues in the novel.

Though few, these critics who reviewed Smouldering Charcoal do not in any way in the novel,

tinker with abuse of power as a post-colonial problem in sub-Sahara Africa.

Moses Isegawa‟s Snakepit is one novel that appears in post-colonial Ugandan society

that captures the reigns of military terror in the land. Though it suggests a political bombshell to

any reader, the novel has not attracted serious critical attention hence it is chosen for this study

on abuse of power and resistance, as a way of contributing to the knowledge of readers

understanding of the novel.

Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon is another novel that fictionalises postcolonial

African experience in a Ghanaian setting. But the work has attracted not much critical attention.

Adjei (2009), while examining Darko’s first three novels Beyond the Horizon, The Housemaid

and Faceless, comments that Beyond the Horizon: “ is told from a first person narrative

perspective. It is a story of the female protagonist Mara, told by her through a series of

flashbacks” (49). A look at Adjei’s conclusion shows that he examined the author’s narrative

point of view and noted the third person point of view which indeed is Darko’s vantage position

in the novel. However, Chasen (2010) in her thesis on Beyond the Horizon argues that:

By shifting her narrative from rural to urban and third world to first world space, Darko

examines how “transnational flows” of capitalist progress travel across circumscribed national

and regional boarders and contribute to the global business of forced prostitution in the novel.

(11) From the foregoing, it appears Chasen tries to look at the setting of Darko’s Beyond the

Horizon. But she does not explicitly show such. She mentions “urban and rural”, “third world

and first world”, and does not show specifically where, how and why this is employed by the

24
author in the novel. Thematically, Chasen quoted above, goes on in the same essay to argue that

“Darko emphasises that it is neither the institution of marriage nor local tradition that puts

women in danger but rather the ways in which ubiquitous capitalist desire influences these

domains” (14).

A look at contemporary African society shows the modern man’s and woman’s chase for

material wealth, as African values get eroded. The modern housewife wants all the good things

of life. Capitalism thus threatens Africa’s once water-tight marital bond, as women walk out of

the home to desire the good things of life to the detriment of their marriages. Thus one agrees

with Chasen’s view above.

However, Jude Dibia’s Unbridled is another selected novel for this study. There appears to be no

appreciable critical comments on the novel. This is consequent upon the fact that the author

belongs to the emerged group of writers whose works are rarely examined as they are dominated

by earlier writers. Though they make waves in Europe and America, they do not attract the same

attention in home countries like Nigeria, in the case of Jude Dibia. Okuyade (2010) corroborates

this conclusion, when he writes thus:

Currently in Nigeria, there is apprehension about the inability of the Nigerian literati to acquire

and assess the novels of the third generation of Nigerian [African] writers. The dearth of novels

of this generation has no doubt created a creative hiatus – psychologically. Most of these novels

are published abroad and the writers are resident in the West. The novels of these exiles are

either not found in Nigeria [their home country] or they are too expensive, taking into

consideration Africa’s compromised economy, when one is opportune to stumble into these

books. (1-2)

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Okuyade’s observation is quite concrete as the novels of these writers (our focus) are not easy to

come by. This informs why there is dearth of scholarship on them. This has been the major

challenge in this study. But one cannot run away from examining these writers and their works in

sub-Sahara Africa just because criticism on them are not easy to come by or do not exist. There

is need to examine these writers despite the fact that their novels are not easily available and not

much appear to have been done on them. The voices of these writers have made a mark on the

development of sub-Sahara African novel, which Tiyambe Zeleza, Moses Isegawa, Chimamanda

Ngozi Adichie,

Amma Darko and Jude Dibia are contributors. Eko (2006) tells us that “The new millennium has

witnessed the emergence of quite an impressive number of African writers, who have won

outstanding awards and prizes, both national and international” (43).

Indeed, the critical comments of scholars on the selected novels reveal a great deal of efforts at

understanding the novels. These comments as varied as they are, help us to undertake a study of

abuse of power and resistance. Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus for instance, has been shown to focus

on tension in the home and the larger society, lack of freedom in the home and the larger society,

the motif of freedom, violence in the home and the society at large, the growth process of a child

which reveals the growth process of a nation as evident in the oppression and abuses in

Kambili’s home as well as the world outside. Zeleza’s Smouldering Charcool, is shown to have

dwelt on frustrations, disappointments and disillusionments resulting from oppressive politics.

Snakepit also focused on military terrorism in Ugandan society. These novels, it must be

mentioned, are set in a democratic society as well as a military setup. While critics‟ attention on

Darko’s Beyond the Horizon reveal a setting where forced prostitution and quest for material

wealth are played out, Dibia’s Unbridled attracted no appreciable comment as shown in the

26
review. These critical observations show that scholars have examined issues relating to power

politics in one way or the other. It has become obvious that the many critics who examined

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus, looked at it from various critical angles. The

comments on Tiyambe Zeleza’s Smouldering Charcoal, Moses Isegawa’s Snakepit, Amma

Darko’s Beyond the Horizon and Jude Dibia’s Unbridled, reveal critical views on the individual

novels. Looking at their critical views, as enunciated in this review, one notes, that inasmuch as

the comments are valid, none of these examined any of the novels as a demonstration of abuse of

power. Therefore this study focuses primarily on the selected novels as a fictionalization of

abuse of power and resistance to such, as revealed in public and domestic domains.

2.1.Conceptual framework

Abuse of power and resistance are central themes in many postcolonial sub-Saharan African novels, reflecting the
complex social, political, and economic landscapes of the region. These themes often emerge in works that grapple
with the legacy of colonialism, the struggles for independence, and the subsequent challenges faced in nation-
building. Here's a conceptual background to help understand these themes in the context of selected novels:

Abuse of Power

1. Historical Context

- The legacy of colonialism left many sub-Saharan African countries with systems of governance that were heavily
influenced by colonial powers. Authoritarian regimes often arose in the post-independence era, leading to the
abuse of power by political leaders.

2. Political Corruption and Oppression

- Novels frequently depict leaders who exploit their power for personal gain, illustrating systemic corruption and
the disenfranchisement of ordinary citizens. For example, Chinua Achebe's "A Man of the People" critiques a newly
independent Nigeria's leadership, showcasing how the promise of democracy can devolve into autocracy.

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3. Social Injustice

- The abuse of power extends beyond politics to social structures, as seen in works like Yvonne Vera's "Nehanda,"
where patriarchy and societal norms exert oppressive control over women. Such narratives highlight how power
dynamics perpetuate inequality and violence.

Resistance

1. Forms of Resistance

- Characters in these novels often engage in various forms of resistance—ranging from subtle, personal acts of
defiance to organized political activism. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s "Devil on the Cross" illustrates how individuals can
resist oppressive systems through awareness and reclaiming their voices.

2. Cultural Resilience

- Resistance also manifests through cultural practices, spirituality, and a connection to heritage. In "Things Fall
Apart," Achebe explores how cultural identity can be a form of resistance against colonial and post-colonial forces.

3. Collective vs. Individual Resistance

- The tension between individual acts of defiance and collective movements often forms a narrative core. Novels
like "Gods Are Not to Blame" by Ola Rotimi highlight the struggles of communities confronted with systemic
oppression, showcasing how solidarity can emerge in the face of adversity.

Case Studies of Selected Novel

1. Chinua Achebe – "Things Fall Apart"

- This seminal work deals with the collision of traditional Igbo culture with colonialism, showcasing both the
abuse of colonial power and the community's resistance to cultural erasure.

2.2. Theoretical framework:

This study employs postcolonial critical theory with emphasis on sub-alternism, a variant

of postcolonial theory. It is important, before examining postcolonial theory, to mention the

28
difference between “post-colonial” and post-colonialism‟ as these will be used in this study.

“Post-colonial” refers to a socio-political culture after colonialism. In other words, it is used or

affixed with reference to a society weaned politically from her colonial overlords. For instance,

Nigerian society after her independence from Britain in 1960 is a post-colonial society.

However, „postcolonial‟ refers to a theory. It is used to distinguish a critical position that

examines a post-colonial society. This distinction gives a better understanding of the use of the

terms „post-colonial‟ and„ post-colonialism ‟Tyson (1999) says that postcolonial theory

examines:

[…] the initial contact with the coloniser and the disruption of indigenous culture, the journey of

the European outsider through an unfamiliar wilderness with a native guide, ordering and

colonial oppression in all its forms, mimicry (the attempt of the colonised to imitate the dress,

behavior, speech and lifestyles of the coloniser); exile (the experience of being an outsider in

one’s own land or a foreign wanderer in Britain); post-independence exuberance followed by

disillusionment, the struggle for individual and collective culture identity and the related themes

of alienation, unhomeliness and hybridity; and the need for continuity with a pre-colonial past

and self-definition of the political future. In addition, most post-colonial critics analyse the ways

in which a literary text, whatever its themes, is colonialist or anti-colonialist, that is, the ways in

which the text reinforces or resists colonialism oppressive ideology. (374)

Hale (2006) in an introduction to “Post colonialism and the Novel” states that:

In one sense, post-colonialism can be viewed as offering simply another category for socially

constitutive experience to be added to those already in play; class, race, gender, sexuality and

now imperialism post-colonial theory may be seen as the culmination of late twentieth century

29
preoccupation with identity politics in novel studies. (654) She adds that “the post-colonial

theorist thus finds himself in the position of psychoanalyst, studying the effect of narrativisation,

the conditions produced in the social subjects by his or her specific experience of the modern

condition of knowledge” (671).

On their part, Ashcroft, Griffiths and Tiffin (2002) see postcolonial theory thus:

A major feature of post-colonial literature is the concern with place and displacement. It

is here that the specific post-colonial crisis of identity comes into being; the concern with

the development or recovery of an effective identifying relationship between self and

place. (8)

They add that:

A valid and active sense of self may have been eroded by dislocation, resulting from

migration, the experience of enslavement, transportation or voluntary removal from

indentured labour. Or it may have been destroyed by cultural denigration, the conscious

and unconscious oppression of the indigenous personality and culture by a supposedly

superior racial or cultural model. (9)

Continuing, they argue that as a result, “The development of national literatures and criticism is

fundamental to the whole enterprise of post-colonial studies” (16), but did not fail to mention

that post-colonial studies include or overlap with feminist perspective (30). These foregoing

theoretical positions show that post-colonialism in novel studies involve contemporary issues as

30
they are being experienced in colonised or decolonized societies. These are issues sub-Sahara

African novelists pre-occupy themselves with. But in the works of writers emerging since the

late 1980s, we note contemporary concerns which were not the artistic interests of their

predecessors. Issues such as race, gender, sexuality and sexual misdemeanours, AIDS pandemic

and identity politics to mention a few, now occupy the centre stage on their artistic canvas. In the

invented societies, we observe a lopsided relationship between the rulers, the super-ordinates and

the ruled, their subordinates.

Kaplan and Anderson (2000) in an introduction to Homi K. Bhabha‟s essay on postcolonial

theory, say that “… post-colonial criticism tends to focus on works produced in those portions of

the world that were once part of the large Europen.

Continuing, they argue that as a result, “The development of national literatures and criticism is

fundamental to the whole enterprise of post-colonial studies” (16), but didcolonial empires that

reached their height in the nineteenth century” (763). But, for Homi K. Bhabha, they continued:

The notion of post-coloniality encompasses more than this and has significance even for

people who were never colonised in the most traditional sense of the word[…] and

touches on race and ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and even the threat of AIDS, as well as

the more central post-colonial concerns of nation and identity. (763)

However, Bhabha (2000) argues that: Post-coloniality, for its part, is a salutary reminder

of the persistent„ neocolonial relations within the “new” world order and the multinational

division of labour. Such a perspective enables the authentication of histories of exploitation and

the evolution of strategies of resistance. Beyond this, however, post-colonial critique bears

31
witness to those countries and communities in the North and South, urban and rural constituted

[…]. (769)

It is pertinent to conclude that postcolonial theory is that which a critic employs in the analysis of

any literary work, for example the narrative genre (novel) that has been produced from or set in

non-colonised, colonised or decolonised societies. It takes cognizance of the trappings of

colonial or neocolonial oppression, exploitation, frustration and disillusionment and strategies for

the resistance by indigenous victims. In addition, the theory also examines the issues of class,

race, gender, exile, place, displacement, dislocation, migration from the homeland, alienation,

identity crisis and homelessness or unhomeness as these affect relationships nationally or

internationally.

Indeed, it is imperative, having examined what postcolonial theory is, to focus our

theoretical frame on subalternism specifically, as an aspect of postcolonial critical theory. Patode

(2012) reminds us that “post-colonial literary Theory is an intellectual field which makes an

enquiry into the conditions of the colonised during and after colonisation” (196).

Subalternism helps to examine the conditions of the marginalised and oppressed in colonised and

decolonised societies. Referring to one of the exponents of subalternism as a critical theory,

Morton (2003) argues that subaltern studies historians see subalternism “as the general attribute

of subordination in South Asian society whether this is expressed in terms of class, caste, age,

gender and office or in any other way” (48). Morton adds that “Spivak‟s theory of the subaltern

is part of a longer history of left-wing anti-colonial thought that was concerned to challenge the

class/caste system in India” (69). Chanturvedi (2007) comments that “[i]n the early 1980s, a

32
small group of Marxist scholars influenced by Antonio Gramsci‟s Prison Notebooks introduced

“subaltern” as a new analytic category within modern Indian historiography” (9).

Continuing, he argues that “ subaltern politics tend to be violent because subaltern classes

were forced to resist the conditions of elite domination and extra-economic coercion in their

everyday lives” (10).

Subalternism as a postcolonial critical theory deals with texts emanating from, and on

colonised and, or decolonised societies of the world. It examines the lives of the „sub‟ or

„secondary‟ subordinated masses or the ruled, either in governance or in the home, and strategies

or ways of resistance. Thus it deals with the use of political or leadership powers, its abuses and

efforts put up by victims to resist such untoward domination in their locale or space.

Tilwani (2013) writing on this critical theory, concludes:

The term, subalternity, remarkably and aptly employed by Spivak, to highlight the

predicament of those who are allotted „sub‟ or „secondary‟ space in the human society.

Subaltern is used as an umbrella term for all those who are marginalised and deprived of

the voice to „speak‟. (113) No doubt, subalternism is a critical literary theory that gives

insight into the state of the marginalised who lost their voices to speak. It also caters for

attempts made to voice out their pains, oppressions, exploitations and general violence in

public as well as in private life. The theory thus becomes imperative for the literary

analysis of our chosen texts for this study, since the texts are products of a post-colonial

society.

It is necessary, before we examine abuse of power and resistance in the selected novels, to

mention that abuse of power and resistance is as a result of the unbecoming attitudes of political

33
leaders, in the discharge of their leadership responsibilities in African post-colonial societies.

Fanon (1963) copiously argues on power to the effect

that he concludes:

African unity can only be achieved through the upward thrust

of the people, and under the leadership of the people, that is to

say, in defiance of the interests of the bourgeoisie. (132)

Here, Fanon‟s argument shows that in the exercise of power in politics, African unity can only

be possible through the combined efforts of the people and their leaders. But this means that the

masses must have a defiant spirit as the leaders are often inclined to protecting their bourgeoisie

interests. Continuing, Fanon argues that “[t]he bourgeoisie dictatorship of under-developed

countries draws its strength from the existence of a leader” (133). Fanon‟s argument reveals a

power politics that engenders dictatorship in governance. The bourgeoisie is observed to draw its

power from a leader whose political orientation is coloured with abuses.

Besides, in a democratic society, the leaders are elected through their political parties.

This empowers them to exercise a political will over the people. Fanon in his argument on the

use of power in post-colonial African societies, sees the party system as an instrument of power.

He writes:

The party, a true instrument of power in the hands of the bourgeoisie reinforces the

machine, and ensures that the people are hemmed in and immobilized. The party helps

the government to hold the people down. It becomes more and more clearly anti-

democratic, an implement of coercion. (138)

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There is no doubt that Fanon points to the fact that post-colonial African societies are ruled by

indigenous people who turned themselves into a bourgeoisie clique and use the party as a

formidable instrument of exercise of power. In such exercise, there is high-handedness as the

political leaders ensure that the led have no say in government. The people thus live in fear as

they are forced and intimidated to comply with the dictates of the rulers. This is indeed, an abuse

of the exercise of political power. Fanon puts it more concretely thus:

The party, instead of welcoming the expression of popular discontentment, instead of

taking for its fundamental purpose the free flow of ideas from the people up to the

government, forms a screen, and forbids such ideas [… and] hastens to send the people

back to their caves. (147).

This argument above points at the need for the examination of abuse of power and resistance in

sub-Sahara African society. This is because, a political party in government with leaders who do

not welcome open expression of popular discontentment but employs force to cow the people,

expects nothing more than resistance. This power politics is also extended to the domestic

domain, one of our critical interests in this study. According to Hayes (2014) “Violence against

women does not occur in a vacuum, but occurred in the context of a socially structured system of

politics, class, race, gender, sexuality, and ethnicity”(7). The politics of power abuse is such that

victims employ strategies against it. In the domestic space, Hayes adds that “ the abusive male

may be able to physically overpower the woman when she physically resists. Nevertheless, some

women still engage in physical resistance, (4).

Fanon‟s an

35
2.3 Empirical Studies in Abuse of Power and Resistance

1. Overview of Themes

- **Definition of Abuse of Power:** Discuss types of power abuse—political tyranny, economic exploitation,
social oppression, and gender subjugation—in post-colonial contexts.

- Resistance Frameworks: Introduce theories of resistance, such as Michel Foucault’s views on power/knowledge
and post-colonial theorists like Frantz Fanon, who discuss psychological and physical resistance against colonial and
neo-colonial structures.

2. Selected Novels:

- Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe:

- Analyze how pre-colonial and colonial powers clash, impacting individual agency and communal identity.

- Explore Okonkwo’s tragic resistance against colonial forces and his eventual demise.

- Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie:

- Discuss the Biafran War as a manifestation of power struggles and the personal and collective forms of
resistance.

- Examine the characters’ responses to war and the imposition of authority.

- Petals of Blood by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o:

- Investigate themes of neo-colonialism, examining how newly independent leaders often replicate colonial
abuses.

- Analyze various resistance strategies employed by the oppressed characters.

3. Discussion of Empirical Studies:

- Highlight key empirical studies that align with your selected novels.

- Address studies examining reader perceptions and socio-political implications of the narratives.

- Include case studies or analyses of other literary works that reflect similar themes.

2.4Summary of the Reviewed Literature

1. Themes in Literature

- Compile existing literature that discusses abuse of power in post-colonial contexts.

- Analyze resistance not just as physical rebellion but as cultural, psychological, and intellectual forms.

36
2. Literary Criticism:

- Review critical essays and analyses that focus on how these novels portray power and resistance. Discuss
scholars such as Edward Said, Homi K. Bhabha, and Aijaz Ahmad.

- Include responses on how these texts serve as critiques of both colonial and post-colonial power structures.

3. **Gaps in Existing Research:**

- Identify what aspects of the themes have been overlooked in previous studies. This could include perspectives
from female authors, regional market influences, or intersectionality in resistance movements.

37
 CHAPTER THREE

Chapter 3:

3.1Research Design

- To explore how themes of abuse of power are portrayed in selected post-colonial Sub-Saharan African
novels.

- To analyze the forms of resistance depicted in these novels in response to power abuses. -

To examine the social, political, and cultural contexts that shape these narratives.

3.2 Areas of Study

- The geographical scope of Sub-Saharan Africa encompasses a vast and diverse region situated south of the
Sahara Desert, including countries such as Nigeria, Kenya, South Africa, Ghana, Uganda, Tanzania, Zimbabwe, and
many others. This region is characterized by a rich tapestry of cultures, languages, and histories that reflect both
indigenous traditions and the legacies of colonialism.

- British Colonization: Nations like Kenya, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe experienced profound changes due to British
imperial rule. The imposition of foreign governance, land appropriation, and the introduction of cash crops
reshaped local economies and social structures. This history often informs narratives centered around themes of
displacement, identity, and resistance.

- French Colonialism: Countries such as Senegal and Côte d'Ivoire were shaped by French rule, which emphasized
assimilation and cultural exchange, yet simultaneously suppressed local customs and languages. The post-colonial
literary narrative often explores the tension between cultural heritage and modernity.

3.3 Population of the Study

- Scholars:

Academics specializing in African studies, post-colonial literature, and cultural studies are essential to this
discourse. They often conduct research, publish articles, and engage in discussions surrounding the historical
contexts and literary analyses of texts from the region.

- College Students:

Undergraduates and graduate students studying literature, history, sociology, or international relations will find
these narratives compelling as they explore the complexities of African societies and histories. Students in courses
on African literature, post-colonial studies, or global histories may be particularly engaged.

38
- Avid Readers:

Individuals who particularly enjoy literature from diverse geographical and cultural origins will be included. These
readers might have an interest in broadening their understanding of the human experience, cultural narratives, and
historical contexts through fiction and non-fiction texts from Sub-Saharan Africa.

3.4 Sample Technique:

Purposive Sampling for Diverse and Relevant Group Selection

**Purposive sampling** allows for the intentional selection of participants who possess specific characteristics
pertinent to the research focus. In this context, the aim is to assemble a diverse group of scholars, college students,
and avid readers familiar with Sub-Saharan African literature, particularly concerning post-colonial themes.

1. **Familiarity with Novels:**

- Experience with Key Texts:** Participants must have read a selection of significant novels from Sub-Saharan
Africa, such as:

- Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

- The Joys of Womanhood by Buchi Emecheta

- Petals of Blood by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

- Half of a Yellow Sun* by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

- **Engagement with Contemporary Works:** A familiarity with recent publications or emerging voices in African
literature is also valuable.

**Understanding of Post-Colonial Themes:**

- Academic Background: Participants should possess an academic background in fields related to literature,
cultural studies, history, or sociology, ideally with coursework or research focusing on post-colonial theory and its
application to African literature.

39
 - Critical Engagement: The ability to critically engage with post-colonial themes such as identity, cultural heritage,
resistance, and hybridity is crucial. Participants should be able to analyze texts through the lens of colonial history
and its aftermath, exploring the legacy of colonialism in contemporary society.

3.4.i. Method of Data Collection

-Interviews

- **Objective**: To gather nuanced, personal insights from readers, scholars, or authors regarding their
interpretations of the novels.

- **Semi-structured**: Prepare a set of open-ended questions to guide the conversation while allowing for
flexibility to explore new topics that arise during the discussion.

- **Sample Questions**:

- How do you interpret the theme of power in the novel?

- Can you share a passage that resonated with you in terms of resistance?

- In what ways do the characters embody or challenge power dynamics?

- **Participant Selection**: Aim for a diverse group of participants, including academics, casual readers, and
individuals with relevant cultural backgrounds, to ensure a range of perspectives.

3.4ii. Focus Groups

- **Objective**: To facilitate dynamic discussions that encourage participants to share and debate their
interpretations, revealing collective insights about the themes.

- **Structure**:

- **Group Size**: Ideally 6-10 participants to foster engagement without overwhelming the conversation.

- **Facilitation**: A moderator should guide the discussion, ensuring all voices are heard and steering
conversations back to the central themes as needed.

- **Discussion Prompts**:

- What do you think the author is trying to say about power through the characters?

- How do the themes of power and resistance manifest differently across various characters or plot points?

- Are there moments in the text that surprised you regarding the portrayal of resistance?

- **Outcome**: Collect qualitative data on how readers’ interpretations converge or diverge, revealing patterns in
understanding power dynamics.

3.4iii. Textual Analysis

40
- **Objective**: To perform a close examination of the text to uncover deeper meanings and implications
regarding power and resistance.

- **Methodology**:

- **Close Reading Techniques**: Focus on specific passages, examining language, imagery, tone, and structure to
reveal how these elements contribute to themes of power and resistance.

- **Critical Frameworks**: Apply post-colonial theoretical perspectives to analyze the text. This can include:

- **Power Relations**: Investigate how colonial legacies impact power structures within the narrative.

- **Identity and Resistance**: Explore how characters resist oppressive systems and how their identities
influence their actions.

- **Cultural Context**: Consider how the historical and cultural context of the novel interacts with the themes.

- **Key Passages**: Identify and annotate passages that exemplify power dynamics. Analyze these excerpts in
detail, discussing their significance within the broader narrative.

### Integration of Findings

- **Synthesis**: Combine insights from interviews, focus groups, and textual analysis to create a comprehensive
understanding of how power and resistance are portrayed in the novels.

- **Reporting**: Present findings through thematic reports, academic papers, or presentations, highlighting the
interplay between reader interpretations and textual evidence.

3.5.Method of Data Analysis

- Utilize thematic analysis to categorize and discuss the recurring motifs of power and resistance.

- Use software for qualitative research analysis (like NVivo) to identify themes, codes, and patterns in qualitative
data collected from interviews and texts.

3.6. Findings

Analyzing character arcs and narrative structures in literature that explores themes of abuse and
resistance, particularly in the context of Sub-Saharan African societies, reveals complex relationships
between individuals and their socio-political environments. These novels often depict the struggle
against oppression and the resilience of the human spirit, reflecting the historical power struggles
intrinsic to the region.

1. **Transformation Through Trauma**: Many protagonists in such narratives experience significant

trauma which serves as a catalyst for their development. For example, characters may start as
oppressed figures—victims of colonialism, systemic discrimination, or domestic abuse—and gradually
evolve into symbols of resistance. Through their journeys, readers witness shifts from passivity to

41
agency, as characters gain awareness of their circumstances and begin to challenge the status quo. A
powerful example is the character of Okonkwo in Chinua Achebe's "Things Fall Apart," who embodies
traditional masculinity and attempts to respond to colonial encroachment with increased violence,
ultimately leading to his tragic downfall—a

3.7. Recommendations

i **Sociology and Political Science:**

- **Social Movements and Political Identity:**

- Explore the intersections of social movements and political identity, examining how various groups mobilize
around issues of race, gender, and class. Investigate the role of collective memory in shaping political narratives and
identity politics.

- **Policy Implications of Social Inequalities:**

- Conduct comparative studies on how policies impacting marginalized communities are developed and debated.
Analyze the socio-political structures that either reinforce or challenge systemic inequalities, considering case
studies from various countries.

- **Public Perception and Electoral Behavior:**

- Use mixed methods to explore how media representations of marginalized communities affect public
perception and electoral behavior. Consider how these representations may influence voter attitudes and policy
support.

ii. **Gender Studies and Intersectionality:**

- **Intersectional Analysis of Gender and Race:**

- Investigate how intersecting identities shape experiences of

42
 CHAPTER FOUR

ABUSE OF POWER IN DOMESTIC SPACE

4.1 Data presentation

In the domestic space, one finds that the family features prominently. The family consists

of the father (male), mother (female) and children (biological or adopted) in most cases. In this

domestic sphere, it is a general knowledge that the man, in African society, is assumed to be the

head, and superordinate, while the woman and the children are subordinated. It has been

observed that in this spousal relationship, there is power politics as the man tries to be seen,

heard and feared as the head of the woman, and family generally. In his exercise of powers of

leadership, sometimes the man indulges in spousal abuses as he attempts to exercise his authority

over the woman. Violence thus occurs in the home. This pits the man against the woman. By so

doing, the man abuses domestic power over his spouse through violent actions. In most cases, it

results in physical assaults and even sexual wrongs.

In addition, Steven (2007) concludes in her essay on patriarchy and domestic violence

that “Domestic violence [which is an abuse of power] continues to be a hideous global social

problem” (594).

43
Violence at the home front is no doubt an abuse of male power over the female. Indeed, the

Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, reported a Fourth World Conference on Women

(1995) that domestic violence,

…means any act of gender based physical, sexual or psychological violence that results

in or is likely to result in physical, sexual or psychological harm or suffering to women,

or girl-children, including threats of such acts, coercion or arbitrary deprivation of

liberty. Violence that occurs in private within the family includes battering, sexual abuse

of female children in the household, marital rape […]. (17)

No wonder Steven sees it as a global social problem. Indeed, Omonubi-McDonnel (2003) writes
that:
Feminists define spousal abuses as maltreatment, mistreatment or ill-treatment of a

spouse. Feminists believe that spousal abuse is discernable only through a scrutiny of the

social situation […]. Men of different social classes and races can possibly use violence

as a strong mode of subjecting women. (37-38),

Domestic abuse of power in form of violent actions has attracted the attention of

feminists who feel worried, and the need to bring it into public knowledge to stem the tide. In

sub-Sahara Africa, and before the post-colonial era, it is observed that violence was by way of

shouting down at the woman, forcing her into silence on issues in the home which the man

dominates. Occasionally, there occurs too, some physical beating. These we note to have been

narrated in Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, Arrow of God, Buchi Emecheta’s The Joys of

Motherhood, to mention a few. In the post-colonial and contemporary era, domestic abuse of

power goes beyond the physical intimidation into silence through shouting and beating. The

issue of abuse of power against women is not an issue that can be trivialised. It cuts across race,

44
tribe, and class. It is a universal phenomena. And as argued by Akintunde (2002), it is endemic.

We note in Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus, Darko’s Beyond the Horizon and Dibia’s Unbridled, that

there is the conscious invention of benevolent dictatorship, physical and sexual violence

respectively, as forms of abuse of power in domestic space, and strategic and secret service

operations and physical confrontations as forms of resistance to such abuses.

Benevolent dictatorship, as a form of domestic abuse of power is the artistic interest of Adichie

in Purple Hibiscus. In the wider society, at the public level, we noted tyranny in a democracy

and military tyranny as forms of abuse of power in Zeleza’s Smouldering Charcoal and

Isegawa’s Snakepit respectively. In some post-colonial African homes, dictatorship reigns as

family heads turned themselves into dictators. In Purple Hibiscus, set in a Nigerian home,

Adichie narrates this ugly trend in post-independence Nigeria, her spatial setting, as she moulds

one of her major characters, Eugene Achike in the novel, as a benevolent dictator. The author’s

invention of benevolent dictatorship is one that reveals the family circle as a kind of hell – a cell

– as the members see themselves in a precarious situation. They see themselves in a tension-

filled atmosphere, in the home as in the wider society. Thus, fear envelops everybody at home as

the fear of Papa Eugene Achike, the family head, is the beginning of wisdom. The first-person

narrator of Adichie‟s Purple Hibiscus, Kambili, a participant in the narration, as well as a

member of the home she tells us about, narrates:

We went upstairs to change, Jaja and Mama and I. Our steps on the stairs were as

measured and as silent as our Sundays: the silence of waiting until Papa was done with

his siesta so we could have lunch; the silence of reflection time, when Papa gave us a
scripture passage or a book by one of the early church fathers to read and meditate on; the silence of

45
 evening rosary; the silence of driving to the church for benediction afterwards. Even our family time on

Sundays was quiet, without chess games or newspaper discussions, more in tune with the Day of Rest. (31)

A critical look at the preceding quote, reveals that Adichie skilfully summarises the situation in

Kambili’s home. In the home, silence in everything is the keyword. Eugene Achike’s

behavioural attitude towards his nuclear family turns the home into a grave yard, as one could

hear even a pin-drop sound. As a father and family head, Eugene Achike supposed to be a source

of peace and love. His home supposed to radiate these fine qualities. But like the wider society

where the rulers had held everybody hostage in tyranny, (146, 198) as shown in the novel,

Achike’s home is nothing but a house of psychological war. The entire family is subjected to

fear. They thus suffer psychological trauma and emotional pains as they at every moment think

about who would be the next victim of their father’s dictatorial posture. Thus silence on the part

of the children, in order not to attract his bullying and violent action, becomes the best way to

live. Adichie by so creating Achike demonstrates that the family head, a product of colonial

orientation, is dictatorial in the home. This is tragic as one gets disappointed that the African man

with rich familial cultural orientation that shuns animosity and tension-filled home is nothing but

a false representation.

Adichie further pursues this issue of benevolent dictatorship in the home when Kambili, her

narrator, tells us another painful experience thus:

He [father] unbuckled his belt slowly. It was a heavy belt made of layer of brown leather

with a sedate leather – covered buckle. It landed on Jaja first, across his shoulder. Then

Mama raised her hands as it landed on her upper arm, which was covered by the puffy

sequined sleeve of her church blouse. I put the bowl down just as the belt landed on my

back[…]. Papa was like a Fulani nomad although he did not have their spare, tall body

46
 as he swung his belt at Mama, Jaja and me, muttering that the devil would not win. (102-

103)

In the above excerpt, the novelist captures the dictatorship in the home of Eugene Achike.

Her narrator, Kambili, reveals that her father is a dictator. This scene shows Eugene Achike

descend rudely and brutally too, on every member of his household – wife, son and daughter. He

dictatorially descends on them for what he perceives as desecration of Catholic mass, as Kambili

eats ten minutes before mass as a result of hermenstrual pain. However, a critical reader gets

tempted to conclude that Eugene Achike appears to be protecting Catholic values in a home

where family members try to be deviant and spiritually unyielding to catholic values and

teachings. Nevertheless, he does not need to be dictatorial in his posture, as he, a catholic

Christian, ought to be a lord at home who tenderly cares and relates with his family

compassionately. But brutalising Kambili because she “desecrates” mass, as she eats ten minutes

before mass, is nothing but Achike’s demonstration of dictatorial fatherhood and harsh catholic

lordship.

It is an open secret in a woman’s physiological make-up that pains accompany her monthly

menstrual periods. At this period, the woman’s mood changes. Eating habit could be altered as

she copes with the pain nature imposes on her. Every woman expects love, and emotional

understanding from family members, especially husband (in the case of a wife), father and

mother (in the case of a daughter) or even a fiancé (in the case of a fiancée- the betrothed). But in

the circumstance Kambili narrates to us, in her own experience, the reader observes that the

father unleashes violence on the entire family just because Kambili eats before mass. That was

not enough for a family head to hit at his household. Adichie’s creation is with the artistic intent

to show Eugene Achike to be a dictator, abusing the domestic power of a father and family head.

47
Consequently, the entire home is not a place of rest any more. Fear grips everybody as no one

knows whom father would descend on next. Kambili, Adichie’s recorder and narrator of this

ugly situation in the home, she being an eye witness and participant in the scenario, confirms:

There was something hanging over all of us. Sometimes I wanted it to be a dream -- the

missal flung at the etagere, the shattered figurines, the brittle air. It was too new, too

foreign, and I did not know what to be or how to be. I walked to the bathroom and

kitchen and dining room on tip toe. (252)

Kambili here in the above excerpt, fearfully walks on tiptoe in her father’s house because of the

fearful atmosphere that prevails. She finds it uncomfortable to continue to live with a father who

has turned his home into a battle field, as none is spared in the war. She laments:

I did not want to talk to Papa, to hear his voice, to tell him what I had eaten and what I

had prayed about so that he would approve, so that he would smile so much his eyes

would crinkle at the edges. And yet, I did not want to talk to him, I wanted to leave with

father Amadi, or with Aunty Ifeoma and never come back. (262)

Kambili, the character through whose perceptive eyes, like a focal lens, we see the dictatorship in

Eugene Achike’s home, tells us that she can no longer cope with the father’s homeless and

tensioned-filled home environment. She thus desires to run away to leave with Father Amadi, or

her aunty, Ifeoma, in whose home she hopes to find peace and love which are absent in her

father’s home.

However, Eugene Achike who psychologically exiles his children, and wife in the home

is a benevolent father. In fact, in the eyes of neighbours and extended family members, Achike is

the stark opposite of what he is in the home. Outside his nuclear family, he is a benevolent

48
character. In his devout spiritual expressions, as he prays in the home, Kambili tells us that “…

when Papa [Eugene Achike] prayed, he added longer passages urging God to bring about the

downfall of the Godless men ruling our country, and he intoned over and over, “our Lady Shield

of the Nigerian people, pray for us” (43). While Eugene Achike prays for the end of the Godless

tyrants outside his home, the tyrannical leadership of the military government, he does not feel

that there is dire need for his own nuclear society (his household) to also be rescued by God from

his highhandedness and dictatorship in the home. His concern for freedom of speech, movement

and association which he uses his Standard Newspaper to call out publicly, is lacking in his

home. Father Benedict, another character in the novel, reveals.

Look at Brother Eugene [Achike]. He would have chosen to be like other Big men in this

country, he could have decided to sit at home and do nothing after the coup, to make sure

the government did not threaten his business. But no, he used The Standard to speak the

truth even though it meant the paper lost advertising. Brother Eugene spoke out for

freedom. (4-5)

No doubt, Eugene Achike uses his newspaper as a medium to speak out for the oppressed,

tyrannically brutalised in post-colonial governance. But ironically, himself is a dictator in the

home, as the freedom he prays for, and uses his paper to fight for, on behalf of the society, is

lacken in his home. He thus appears a human rights crusader in the eyes of the public, but in his

private home, he is a human rights abuser and a dictator, as the entire family is in bondage and

thus maintains silence in everything they do. What an irony! Adebayo (2000) writing on

feminism in Framcophone literature buttresses this irony when she writes that:

49
 Eugene is a staunch Catholic – a religious fanatic – and a philanthropist who uses his

newspaper The Standard, to champion human rights activities. In spite of these, he is so

stern and authoritarian in dealing with his household. (268)

Besides, even in the distant rural area, in the village, Eugene Achike is not seen as a

dictator in his relationships and use of power, but a benevolent father and son of the community.

He is seen as one who generously gives to the needy. In his power relations with his community

and outsider generally, Achike is seen as one who exerts power and influence positively. In

every festival period, he travels home with the family. His presence and visit is usually felt as

everybody receives his generous presents. Thus he appears benevolent. He is seen as a father,

son and brother who cares. In the village, he is a rallying point as he gives generously. Kambili

tells us that Papa’s title (given by the villagers) is “…omelora, after all, The One Who Does for

the community” (56). No wonder Torelli (2010) argues: “However, recent research has

suggested that power holders can also behave in a more benevolent or attentive way, showing

concern about others‟ interests, attending to them as individuals” (704). Eugene Achike’s lovely

disposition, is not restricted to his public life, though a dictator at home. While his extended

family members in the village expected him to marry an additional wife to Kambili’s mother, he

resists the pressure. This was at a time when there was need, as the wife does not take in after

Kambili’s birth. Kambili’s mother tell her:

God is faithful. You know after you came and I had the miscarriages, the villagers started

to whisper. The members of our umuna even sent people to your father to urge him to

have children with someone else. So many people had willing daughters and many were

university graduates too. They might have born many sons and taken over our house and

50
 driven us out, like Mr. Ezendu’s second wife did. But your father stayed with me, with us

[as one united and homely family]. (20).

But ironically, this same husband and father who resists the pressure to marry a second wife, to

possibly have more children, as the incumbent wife is yet to get pregnant again, brutalises this

woman, his wife, whom he shows love. His wife narrates one of her ordeals to her daughter,

Kambili thus:

You know that small table where we keep the family Bible, […]? Your father broke it in
my belly [...]. My blood finished on that floor even before he took me to St. Agnes. My

doctor said there was nothing he could do to save it. (243)

Eugene Achike, the author reveals here, beats his wife. The latter’s six weeks pregnancy

gets aborted. This violence from a man, husband and father who preaches peace, love and

acts generously, is ironic. He is indeed a dictator at home, but a benevolent one. We thus see him

as one who has split personality. The novelist does not show in her creation that Pa Eugene

Achike starves his household with food, money and general care. There is no such complaint

from any member of the household. But he does live up to their expectation as he plays his role

as a father well. This is a kind of benevolence from a man who turns his home to a war zone,

brutalising and antagonising every member of the family.

His benevolence is foreshadowed when he carries his wife like a jute’s bag, from the

bedroom to board a car to the hospital as the wife bleeds from his aggressive brutality (243).

Kambili, the author’s eye and mouthpiece in the novel, narrates:

I stepped out of my room just as Jaja came out of his. We stood at the landing and

watched Papa descend. Mama as slung over his shoulder like the jute sacks of rice his

51
 factory workers brought in bulk at the Seme Border. He opened the dining room door.

Then we heard the front door open, heard him say something to the gate man,

Adamu[…]. We cleaned the trickle of blood, which trailed away as if someone had

carried a leaking jar of red water-colour all the way downstairs. Jaja scrubbed while I

wiped.(33)

For a man who is always in his elements, kicking, beating and brutalising his children and wife

to rush his wife to the hospital is not only a display of benevolent magnanimity, but also a show

of heroism. Like the dictator that he is, he could have allowed his wife to bleed to death. But he

does not, and instead tries to salvage her six weeks old pregnancy but to no avail. Adichie’s

dramatisation of benevolent dictatorship as an abuse of domestic power in her novel under study,

is no doubt a great artistic achievement, as she invents a character with split personality.

Fwangyil, to quote her again, comments on Eugene Achike’s character thus:

Kambili and Jaja are physically violated by their father and live in constant fear of his

violent attacks. Although Eugene expresses his love for them and caters for their needs,

the inhuman treatment he metes out to them at the slightest provocation far surpasses the

love he claims to have for them (265)

No doubt, it is “[…] in effect, a dramatic indictment of the oppressive attitudes of men towards

women and children that they are supposed to love and care for […]” (263), Fwangyil concludes.

Fwangyil generally sees the novel as an indictment on all oppressive men. But Eugene

Achike’s expression of love for his family is not in doubt. While his children arewith Aunty

Ifeoma in Nsukka, he calls regularly to ascertain their welfare (146). Adichie here reveals that

though a dictator, Eugene Achike is a benevolent one as he has feelings for the same children he

52
antagonises and makes the home uncomfortable for. Kurtz (2012) summarises Eugene Achike’s

benevolent dictatorial disposition thus:

Eugene is heroic in two ways: he combats governmental corruption in the running of its

many enterprises, most notably by publishing an independent and outspoken newspaper;

and he also rejects pressures to take a second wife when his marriage fails to produce

what the extended family considers an adequate number of children for such an

important man. Ironically Eugene’s admirable and progressive public stances are

matched by a marked intolerance and tyranny in his own household. He harshly punishes

his children if they achieve anything other than first place in their class. Their every hour

is carefully programmed […]. (26-27)

In the home, Eugene Achike is both a dictator and one who cares (a benevolent dictator).

It is intriguing to note Adiches use of irony in the contrivance of benevolent dictatorship in

Purple Hibiscus. In her invention, the novelist presents Eugene Achike in the novel as a character

who is benevolent but a dictator at the same time. This paradoxical dramatization is situationally

ironic indeed. All through the novel as studies reveal, Adichie does not show Eugene Achike as a

wicked and uncaring father, husband and community member. Rather, he is a character who is

known to be a benevolent and magnanimous giver, within the extended family and communal

circle. In the wider society, he is a human rights activist who uses his newspaper to fight against

oppression and tyranny from the government of the day. At the home front, he also cares for his

family as a father and husband. But it is observed that ironically, he is a dictator in the home,

though he appears loving and caring in the same home. In the use of irony as a device in fiction

writing, Perrine (1983) reminds us that:

53
 IN IRONY OF SITUATION, usually the most important kind for the story

writer, the discrepancy is between appearance and reality or between

expectation and fulfillment, or between what is and what would seem

appropriate. (203)

A critical reading of Purple Hibiscus reveals the author’s employment of

situational irony as a device. The reader sees Eugene Achike as one who

appears to be humane, kind, generous and a defender of the oppressed and

tyrannically brutalised in the society.

But in reality, he is a dictator in the home as there is electric wire

tension that forces the entire family to live in constant fear, as they watch

every step they take and every utterance they make. In fact, silence is their

worn garment. There is no doubt that Adichie in her novelistic creation, has

demonstrated herself as a committed writer, as she skilfully presents her art,

and does justice to her presentation of benevolent dictatorship.

Ogundipe-Leslie (1987) corroborates this when she writes about the

female writer (Adichie being one), and commitment thus:

As a writer, she has to be committed to her art, seeking to do justice to

it at the highest levels of her expertise. She should be committed to

her vision, what it is, which means she has to be willing to stand or fall

for that vision. She must tell her own truth and write what she wishes

to write. But she must be certain that what she is telling is the truth

and nothing but albeit her own truth. (10)

54
In her vision of benevolent dictatorship as an abuse of domestic powers in

households, Adichie has no doubt artfully presented a microcosm of the

macrocosm of the Nigerian society, her fictional locale, and African

contemporary world generally. She suggestively reveals in her novel that

most families in post-colonial Africa are under the dictatorial leadership of

their fathers, just as the wider society is under the brute force of political

leaders, whether democratic or military.

- Resistance to benevolent dictatorship

Adichie in her novel dramatises the dire need for the tyrannically oppressed and dehumanised to

resist such brutality meted to him or her. In the novel, Kambili, Jaja and their mother (Mama)

summon the courage to subtly challenge and end the dictatorial authority of their father, Eugene

Achike, through strategic operations.

Resistance in Purple Hibiscus begins when Eugene Achike’s children and wife begin to

see themselves as people who live under the brute force and authority of an unyielding dictator.

Consequently, they see their peace, love and harmony as a family completely eroded. There

appears to be no love lost between them and their father, though not demonstrated outrightly; but

it is subtly shown. Critical reading of Purple Hibiscus reveals that the entire family is dissatisfied

with the way things are going. In reaction to the violent and brutal kicking of Kambili by the

father (206) which of course is a recurrent in the home, Aunty Ifeoma boldly comments:

This cannot go on […]. When a house is on fire, you run out before the roof collapses on

your head.

55
 It has never happened like this before. He has never punished her like this before,

[…].Kambili will come to Nsukka when she leaves the hospital. [….] I want Kambili and

Jaja to stay with us, at least until Easter. Pack your own things and come to Nsukka. It

will be easier for you to leave when they are not there. It has never happened like this

before. (209)

In the above quote, Aunty Ifeoma responds to Eugene Achike’s dictatorship and abuse of power

in the home as she suggests that Kambili and Jaja relocate to stay with her in Nsukka. Mama,

Kambili’s mother could pack her things and come along, as a way of preparing for final escape.

Adichie here tries to show that the entire family, and even relations such as Aunty Ifeoma are fed

up with the way Eugene Achike subjugates the family. Thus, Aunty Ifeoma employs strategic

operation as a form of resistance as she suggests that the entire family of Eugene Achike come to

spend some time with her. This is a form of resistance to register her dissatisfaction with her in-

law’s dictatorial attitude towards his family.

The novelist captures a family that is not happy with the killjoy attitude of their father, Eugene

Achike. All through the relationship dramatised in the novel, the novelist presents a cat and mice

relationship, as father is always on the throes of children and wife, and children and wife are

always on the run, caged into a silent shell. Voiceless and subservient, one sees them as people

forced into solitude because of psychological and emotional tension in the home. But it is

intriguing to know from critical reading of the text that resistance to Eugene Achike’s dictatorial

behaviour is one that Adichie skilfully schemes. She does this as she invents Kambili in hospital,

contemplates not going home after treatment. She says “I did not want to leave the hospital. I did

not want to go home” (210).

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Adichie here, reveals that Kambili is eager to leave her home for elsewhere. Kambili is no longer

ready to continue to tolerate, endure and underrate the father’s highhandedness and violence in

the home. Fear grips her, hence she does not want to leave the hospital. This is strategic indeed

as she thus feels she could get some respite, peace and love in a tension-free environment. Thus,

she shows that any serious minded human need to respond to domestic abuse of power, and not

remain subservient and helpless. One can conclude here that Adichie uses this to dramatise

Kambili’s subtle resistance, through self and psychological exile. Indeed, she has to be subtle,

considering her feminine structure and nature, and position in the home, a daughter. She could

not have been able to violently confront her father, whose dictatorial attitude has reduced the

entire household into conquered beings who have no choice of their own. No wonder she tells us:

Mama told me that evening [in the hospital] that I would be discharged in two days. But I

would not be going home, I would be going to Nsukka for a week, and Jaja would go with

me. She did not know how Aunty Ifeoma had convinced papa, but he had agreed that

Nsukka air would be good for me, for my recuperation. (211).

This arrangement is with the intent to make Kambili have some rest and be free from father’s

brutality. This also informs why she contemplates leaving the home to stay with Father Amadi,

or Aunty Ifeoma (262). These are strategic moves and operations to evade Eugene Achike’s

benebolent disctatorship at home. While Kambili is in Aunty Ifeoma‟s home, as a way of being

away from her own loveless and funless home, Mama, her mother, calls. Mama tells Kambili

thus: “Kambili, it’s your father. They called me from the factory, they found him lying dead on

his desk” (280). This news of Eugene Achike‟s death is one that the author uses to show the end

of benevolent dictatorship in the domestic space. Every member of the family sees Eugene

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Achike as an indomitable creature. Kambili puts things in perspective thus: “I had never

considered the possibility that Papa would die. He was different from Ade Coker, from all the

other people they had killed. He had seemed immortal” (281).

Kambili‟s perception of her father is that of a formidable dictator whom nothing could bring

down. He appears immortal because of the way he lived his life in the home. His death shows

that man is a mortal being. In the narrative, it is revealed that Eugene Achike is poisoned. In a

telephone conversation, Mama (Kambili’s mother) tells Kambili thus: “They did an autopsy […]

they have found the poison in your father’s body” (283). This conversational dialogue reveals

that Eugene Achike was poisoned. But Kambili, in astonishment asks the mother “Poison?”

(283). And the mother responds: “I started putting the poison in his tea before I came to Nsukka.

Sisi got it for me; her uncle is a powerful witchdoctor” (283). Eugene Achike’s wife apparently

unable to bear the husband’s beatings anymore. She seems tired of benevolent dictatorship,

hence she vehemently resists it and puts an end to it through death by food poisoning. This action

is no doubt a silent and strategic operation to end domestic abuse of power. It is sad to know that

a wife could poison her husband. But one must not forget that this same woman has for long

endured the husband’s bashings and violent intimidations and actions.

The poisoned husband is a dictator, though a benevolent one. In this death scene, Adichie

suggests an end to dictatorship. The author thus shows that a dictator is a dictator, whether

benevolent, like Achike or malevolent, like the “Great Leader” in Smouldering Charcoal. This

scene of resistance to benevolent dictatorship suggests aclarion call to all and sundry to rise up

courageously against high-handedness in postcolonial sub-Sahara African society. Using Eugene

Achike’s miniature family to demonstrate this, is a schematic and a skilful presentation of her

vision of post-colonial African society. One tends to sympathise with Eugene Achike, as a father

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and breadwinner. But one would recall too that Mama and the entire household had had no peace

as a result of the husband’s oppression, as the entire household is barricaded off into perpetual

fear and silence. In a way, the death scene is the climax of the family’s resistance of their father’s

dominating domestic abuse of power through benevolent dictatorship.

Besides, it must be noted that resistance is strategically silent and subtle in the novel.

Adichie thus suggests that for the masses to end abuse of power in a dictatorial and tyrannical

society, they must employ subtle means as dictators and tyrants are not always willing to

relinquish power. Indeed, the novelist weaves in the story of the death of a Head of State whom

the reader identifies suggestively, as General Sanni Abacha, Nigerian military Head of State

(289). It must be recalled too, as Adichie narrates, that the Head of State held the entire Nigerian

public hostage. His tyrannical posture is akin to that of Idi Amin of Uganda. But his death

signals that tyranny could come to an end. In fact, Adichie’s passing reference to that historical

record shows adroit narrative depth and deftness in her effort. It also shows her determination to

tell her audience to be hopeful that tyranny in post-colonial Africa would come to an end. But for

this to occur, the masses must form a common front and courageously resist the evil, and

determinedly bring it to an end. The author uses the miniature home of the Achikes to dramatise

this. By so doing, she has shown herself as a novelist who is concerned with the ills of post-

colonial Nigerian politics (her setting), one of which is abuse of power. There is no doubt that

Adichie lives in a society that is dynamic, always changing. Hence she gives us a slice of her

post-independence African world, using the family circle in a Nigerian setting.

One must not forget the fact that the entire family of Achike in the novel see the death of

their father as not only a welcome development, but also a relief, psychologically. Though Jaja,

Kambili’s brother, boldly accepts responsibility for poisoning their father to death, and thus gets

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arrested and detained, the entire family feels relieved, having been liberated from their

tormentor. The real culprit, their mother, does not show any sign of perplexity and guilt. The

novelist writes that the entire family is happy at the release of Jaja from detention. Kambili, tells

us:

We will take Jaja to Nsukka first, and then we‟ll go to America to visit Aunty Ifeoma.

[…] I am laughing. I reach out and place my arm around Mama‟s shoulder and she

leans towards me and smiles. (298)

For the first time in the novel, Adichie shows the Achike‟s family in a happy mood. Kambili

could now laugh and mother could now smile. Even “Jaja laughed” (281). They no longer fear to

giggle or express joy through smiles or laughter. They never expressed these emotions in the

house of Eugene Achike, the benevolent dictator. Thus, the whole family is obviously joyous.

The author in her narrative uses this invention of resistance to abuse of power to give hope to the

hopeless who are held down by our leaders whose actions are tyrannical and dictatorial, either in

the public or domestic domain. The end brings joy and a new lease of life, Adichie seems to

suggest. The Achike family are now relieved of the psychological and emotional trauma living

with a dictator and an abuser of domestic power engenders. They can now “cough”, and even

laugh as the novel shows. Adichie thus invents the triumphant entry of the entire family into total

freedom from dictatorship, no matter how benevolent. Dictatorship is dictatorship, and a dictator

is a dictator. He must be resisted and overthrown.

- Physical and sexual violence

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Physical and sexual violence as forms of abuse of domestic power is demonstrated in Amma

Darko‟s Beyond the Horizon and Jude Dibia‟s Unbridled. Amma Darko in her novel portrays

abuse of power by way of shaping Akobi, a character in the novel, to be physically violent in his

relationship with his wife, Mara, the main protagonist. Mara in the novel is observed to be a

character whom the husband bullys all the time. Her experiences in the hands of her husband are

harrowing. A critical study of Beyond the Horizon reveals that Mara is a victim of domestic

abuse of power as the husband physically unleashes terror on her, through physical beating.

From her first person narrative vantage position, Darko engages Mara to reveal her ordeal thus:

Akobi returned home that night just after midnight. Though I heard him, I continued to

feign a deep sleep, when suddenly I felt a painful kick in my ribs. Astounded to the point of

foolishness, I jumped up in confusion. What had I done? He had never kicked nor slapped

me before so what was wrong? He wasn‟t drunk. Before I could ask what had I done, he

bellowed angrily, „You foolish lazy idiot! What do you think you are sitting her all day

doing [….] You think here is a pension house?‟ [….] „Shut up!‟ he roared, landing me a

slap on one cheek. I scurried into one corner and slumped on the floor, my burning face

buried in my hands. I understood the world no more. (11)

In the above excerpt, Darko presents her narrator – participant character, Mara, as one

whom the husband brutalises physically. The novel reveals that Mara lives in the city with

Akobi, her husband. Though formally unemployed, she helps Mama Kiosk, another character, to

empty her refuse bin and gets some foodstuffs from her in return. But Akobi does not see this as

an effort aimed at helping out with the care of the home. Sadly, Akobi, a husband, who married

Mara legally according to traditional laws and custom, beats her physically. The excerpt shows

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Akobi as a character who takes delight in wife beating. Not satisfied with beating her, he subjects

her to verbal abuse. As if these are not enough, he goes on to banish her from their bed –

“[S]leep on your mat today. I want to sleep on the mattress alone”(11). While he enjoyed his

sleep, she lay “on the mat spread on the hard floor, trying to tolerate the mice and cockroaches,

[her] eyes wide open” all the night long! (11-12).

Besides, Mara is observed to be a loyal wife who, despite Akobi’s bullying, still renders

him his sexual due. But unfortunately, Akobi appears callous as he queries his wife and slaps her

for being pregnant. He is expected to be happy that he not only gets sexual pleasure from the

wife, but also is able to make her pregnant. Unfortunately for Mara, her pregnancy attracts

physical violence from the husband. In response to Akobi’s query: “And why did you get

pregnant” (17), Mara recalls painfully:

I thought: I couldn’t have heard right. „Pardon?‟ I replied spontaneously, and before I

knew what was happening… Wham! first slap… wham! wham! wham! three more in

succession. And I scurried into what had now become my favourite corner, slumping to

the floor… I was sleeping on the floor. I didn’t dare to sleep on the mattress. He stumbled

into the room and went straight to bed. For the next two days he spoke no word to me

[…]. What African man got angry because his wife was carrying a baby? And the first

baby at that. (17)

Mara’s painfully narrated ordeal at the hands of her husband is one that puts her in a slavish

position in the gender relations of a couple. In the African-Ghanaian society where Darko sets

her narrative, pregnancy in the marital life of a couple is a thing of joy. Many get emotionally

and psychological perturbed if their wives do not get pregnant. In fact, while the marriage is

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being formalised, parents and well-wishers of couples expect the good news of pregnancy. But

we note in the spousal relationship between Akobi and Mara in Darko’s fictional world, that

pregnancy brings sadness where ordinarily great joy should have been the prevalent feeling. The

first pregnancy that is expected, in African context, to bring joy and happiness to the home, and

thus confirm the fertility of the couples, is observed to attract pains, slaps, beatings and thus

unhappiness for Mara, as Akobi unleashes physical violence on her. Amazed, Mara rhetorically

asks in the above quote as repeated thus: “What African man got angry because his wife was

carrying a baby? And the first baby at that.” This scene in the novel shows domestic abuse of

power through physical beatings. While Mara is happy that she is fertile, being pregnant, Akobi,

her husband is angry and beats her for it. This is the first hint that Akobi has some other role

envisaged for Mara, a role other than the traditional ones of a wife and mother. Darko in her

invention shows that Akobi tries to shy away from parental responsibilities to a baby, when born.

She also shows that some men are physically violent in their marital relationships. Physical

violence by way of beating is against good spousal relationship. Darko fictionalises this not only

to draw attention to what has become a nightmare in some women’s marital life but also to alert

the world of the ugly trend in Ghana particularly and in Africa generally. Akintunde (2004),

writes that “In Africa, wife-beating is one aspect of domestic violence around which a heavy

cloak of silence is drawn” (14). This heavy cloak of silence and thus lack of attention to domestic

abuse of power in marriages is what Darko unveils. The novelist does not want to watch like

some other women as they suffer violently in the hands of their husbands, but to use her

imaginative world to voice out a social malaise. Indeed, Omonubi- McDonnel quoted earlier,

confirms that wife abuse is a social issue. She argues:

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 Wife abuse has existed for centuries and continues to exist in societies of varying social

and familial settings as well as different political persuasions and structures[…]. Spousal

abuse is not a personal issue but a social one. (38)

Spousal abuse as Mara experiences in Beyond the Horizon is no doubt a social issue which

Darko finds imaginatively engaging in her narrative. By so doing, she weaves Akobi into a post-

colonial African personality whose sensibility is a reflection of on ho has lost his sense of

marital love and respect for one’s spouse in an African setting.

In addition, it is interesting to note that Darko reveals physical violence early in her

narrative as she begins her design with the coming together of Mara and Akobi.s family in

marriage. In her marital home, Mara is none other than a slave, a house made and not a wife. She

is supposed to be a lovely wife, legally married, dowry paid in cash and kind, but she turned out

to be a tool in the hands of her husband - an object to be kicked, physically abused now, and then

put on .sale.. Darko.s creation shows Mara as a character who serves her husband not as a wife

but as slave. Mara though remembers that her mother advises her to be loyal and respectful to her

husband, the latter, never cherishes her slavish condition in his hands. She cooks and serves the

food. She also provides, serves the bathing water, brings the bathing soap, towel and waits by the

bathroom door for her husband to bath, for her to remove the materials for bathing. What a loyal

and submissive wife! This experience no doubt demonstrates a slavish service to a man who does

not appreciate such love and loyalty from a spouse. Mara often gets beaten for bringing in wet

towel for Akobi to dry his body after bathing, when she is not the cause of the wetness. With this

attitude against Mara, Akobi shows himself as a character who has no respect for his wife, and

has no love for the marital union. He thus abuses his masculine power, and headship in the home.

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Indeed he has no respect for womanhood. He feels no qualms about the violent treatment he

meets to his wife, as he frequently assaults her physically. Thus he demonstrates his masculine

superiority over the woman, his wife.

Orebiyi (2002) comments

African countries, a variety of norms and beliefs are particularly powerful in

perpetrating violence against woman. This include a belief that men are inherently

superior to women, that men have a right to “correct” female behaviour, that hitting is

an appropriate way to discipline women, that a man’s honour is linked to a woman’s

sexual behaviour. (108)

Though Orebiyi argues in the above quote that men show their superiority over women

through violence, in African countries, Darko in her creative vision in Beyond the Horizon writes

that physical violence against women cuts across race and continent. She invents Gitte, a

German, who narrates the physical violence in her parents ‟ home. Gitte tells Mara thus: “As for

my father, when he heard that I had married a negro, he started to drink. Now he drinks so much

and beats my mother, blaming her for not bringing me up properly” (123-124).

In the above, the novelist reveals a soured relationship between Gitte and the family for marrying

Akobi. Of critical interest to the reader in her narration to Mara, is the fact that her father

resorted to physical violence as a way of querying her mother for not bringing her up well. That

Gitte’s father beats the wife (Gitte’s mother) shows that physical violence against women in

marriage for instance, is not peculiar to Africa, but a social phenomenon that is observable

beyond African society. Darko thus demonstrates that not only do Africans beat women (their

wives) but also the whites as well, such as Gitte narrates to Mara in the novel. By so doing,

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Darko uses her artistic effort to demonstrate that domestic abuse of power on the part of men is

widespread and needs to be checked to save womanhood from the oppressive and masculine

domineering and violent posture in the society.

Continuing in her invention of physical violence as a form of abuse of domestic power,

Darko frowns at the way Akobi relates with his wife who tries to find something to do so as to

assist in taking care of the home front. Saddled with the responsibility of cooking and serving the

husband as a housewife, Mara tells Mama Kiosk, another character, the physical violence Akobi

metes out to her while carrying out such responsibility. She narrates:

Akobi hated to come home and be faced with the prospect of having to

wait a couple of minutes longer than usual for his supper. Initially, he

used only to grumble to show his disapproval, then when that still did

not bring a change he began to act. When I didn’t bring him the bowl

of water and soap in time for washing his hands before and after

eating, I received a nasty kick in the knee. When I forgot the chewing

stick for his teeth, which he always demanded be placed neatly beside

his bowl of served food, I got a slap in the face. And when the napkin

was not at hand when he howled for it, I received a knuckle knock on

my forehead. (18-19).

Is Mara a slave and a housemaid? This is the critical and rhetorical question a reader would ask.

Mara’s experience captured in the above excerpt speaks volumes. It reveals Mara as a character

Darko uses to portray physical violence in domestic space. The novel shows that there appears to

be no love lost in the relationship between Mara and Akobi (wife and husband respectively).

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Akobi the husband hates to come home from work and wait for his supper. Dinner ready, served,

he seizes the ample opportunity of the service of his loyal and dutiful wife to demonstrate his

masculinity. This he does as he kicks, slaps and knocks his wife like a stubborn child who does

not know her right from her left. It is obvious that Akobi does not relate with his wife, Mara, as a

wife, but as a service tool, a maid, and indeed a slave. For only a slave in bondage can endure

such humiliating and violent treatment from a harsh and despotic master. Thus, one can conclude

that Akobi is a master over Mara in a slavish abuse of power in the domestic domain.

The novelist has no doubt, imaginatively staged her male and female protagonists,

(husband and wife) as they artfully dramatise abuse of power. It is appalling for a husband to

physically assault his wife, whom he legally married. It is equally a cause for concern for a

husband to beat his wife who not only warms his bed, but also cooks and serves his food with all

humility. Darko in her novel does not invent this scenario for entertainment only, but also to

educate the reader that domestic abuse of power as evident in physical violence in the novel is an

attack on the female victims‟ “physical and mental integrity. It is an underlying experience of

most women in all societies” (357), to quote Okoye (2010). There is no iota of doubt the author

has been influenced by her African society, where the man dominates and rules the woman

oppressively in matrimonial relationship. Indeed Woolf (2006) reminds us: “that experience has

a great influence on fiction is indisputable” (581). Buchi Emecheta in Second Class Citizen

(1974) schematically captures this ugly trend that portrays the woman like a second class citizen,

to borrow her phrase. In the novel, just as Darko our focus, invents a couple always in a fighting

mood, with the man unleashing violence on the woman, Emecheta also gives us a slice of this in

her fictional world encompassing Francis and Adah (a couple) in London as they are shown to be

combative. The narrator tells us that “She [Adah] had been through the worst. Even his [Francis]

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beatings and slappings did not move her any more” (162). Emecheta in this passage

demonstrates that there is crisis in the familial relationship of the Francis. As a couple, they

ought to be in love and show good example in the home. But instead, they are always fighting, as

Francis the initiator takes delight in physically and violently hitting the wife. This is an abuse

power at the domestic level indeed.

It is intriguing to know that while Akobi relates with his wife, Mara, like a slave, and a

housemaid, he plans to travel to Germany in search of greener pastures to graze. Sadly, he sells

Mara‟s jewelry to get more money to finance his trip to Europe (33-34). Akobi no doubt is a

sadist in character as he unleashes physical and psychological violence on his wife. Mara tries to

know what he does with her jewelry, but Akobi tries to convince her with the need for

investment abroad. The plan concluded, Akobi travels. But Mara in a very long recollections

done in tears, summarises her sordid and sad experience with her husband. Clutching Akobi’s

towel, she narrates:

When I had finished I walked back into our room, took his old towel, hopped into the

grass bed, clutched the towel intimately to myself and cried my whole God-given eyeballs

out. I was an irony into my own self. This towel I clutched intimately to myself had many

a time caused me beatings, like when it stubbornly refused to dry up because the weather

was damp during the night and in its wet state I offered it to Akobi in the morning. I got

beaten as though it was me in control of the world’s weather. As though I caused the

dampness. …here was I crying because he was gone; because no longer would I receive

his beatings, his kicks, his slaps, scolds and humiliations. (43-44).

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In this excerpt above, Mara gives us the summary of her ordeals in the hands of her husband,

Akobi, who treats his wife not as a wife or a woman but as a maid and a slave. He beats and

kicks Mara unfeelingly, as if she is his fellowman, equal in power, strength and masculine

physique. Though gone to Europe, Mara feels his absence as she cries her eyeballs out. Be that is

it may, Mara does not fail to recall the pains, and humiliations she has suffered in the hands of

Akobi. Darko in her imaginative creation, gives us a world where the man demonstrates his

masculine strength against his female counterpart, the woman. She uses her novel to mirror this

ugly trend as she focuses her critical searchlight on the marital home of Akobi to expose the vice.

In her novelistic effort, the author concurs with Igbudu (2004) who argues in her essay on

gender-based violence that:

One of the most common forms of violence against women is one perpetrated by a

husband or other intimate male partner […]. Many women [like Mara in Beyond the

Horizon] live everyday in fear of violence often from their husbands. Gender-based

violence often called intimate partner violence, or domestic violence takes a variety of

forms, including physical (e.g. slaps, punches, kicks, assaults with a weapon, homicide)

[…]. (56)

Indeed, in Darko’s world in Beyond the Horizon, Mara suffers it all in her gender relations with

Akobi, her husband. Akobi beats, slaps, kicks, punches and assaults Mara Darko undoubtedly

has imaginatively captured for her audience a prevailing social malaise in our society as

Igbudu‟s research revealed.

Furthermore, this untold brutality meted to Mara in Beyond the Horizon, demonstrating

domestic abuse of power as evident in physical violence is also the artistic concern of Jude Dibia

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in Unbridled. Dibia in his fictional world encompassing Erika and James, his dominant

characters on whom the society invented revolves, reveals James as a man who dramatises

violence in his domestic space. It is important to observe in the novel that James, a British in

London, wooed Erika, a Nigerian in Nigeria, on the internet. During the period of on-line

courtship, James presents himself as one who loves sincerely and needs an African queen. He

sees Erika as the “Queen” he seeks, and thus concludes arrangement for the latter to migrate to

London to meet him. On the part of Erika, she sees James, the British, as a dream come true.

She happily accepts the date and plans to migrate to London to meet her new found love and

soon to be husband.

However, it is intriguing to note in the novel that on arrival in London, Erika finds

James‟ moral dispositional quality to be at variance with that displayed on the internet, during

their on-line dating period. She painfully narrates:

I have often questioned what really happened the night James first hit me. What was it I

did wrong? Was it really me? But most important, I had struggled to understand how he

had changed to the violent man that he had become. (63)

Erika here in this excerpt above, sees James as one who has altered in his character trait.

Compared to the loving, quiet and calm character that wooed and dated her on the internet,

James is a violent man in character. It is interesting to note that James further demonstrates his

violence when his sister, Claudia talks with him on phone. James in his relationship with his

sister at home during their telephone conversation barks at her sister. As the African woman that

she is, Erika asks James: “what was that all about, James?” (163) as James barks at her sister on

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phone. The latter says nothing was wrong and begs the former to leave him alone. But Erika gets

the greatest shock of her life as she narrates:

It happened then, almost like in slow motion. James shrugged my hands away from his

shoulder, swiveling round at the same time. He shot out of the chair. His right hand was

raised and then came crashing down on my face. His blow so unexpected that I was

knocked off my feet, I landed on my back side on the wooden floor 11with my back hitting

the kitchen cabinet. I watched his foot smash into my sides repeatedly. (43-44)

Erika in this passage is invented as a character who mirrors the physical violence men

unleash on their women victims in their homes. Erika is knocked down and kicked repeatedly.

For a man (an adult) physically strong to engage a woman, a spouse for that matter is not only

sad but also uncivil. Erika thus lives in palpable fear in her relationship with James husband in

London. Dibia throws more light on this domestic abuse of power through physical violence in

the fictional world of Erika and James as Erika tells us further:

We had another fight on Thursday. No. we didn.t fight, he just hit me again[¡¦] May be

tonight I will sleep, I didn.t sleep last night. I was afraid he would return in a fowler

mood and start looking for another fight. I’m tired. I’m much too tired[….]. (165-166).

A critical reading of the novel and with particular reference to the quote above, reveals that

James is violent and thus makes his home uncomfortable for his wife as the latter is in constant

fear of attack. In fact, situation gets worse by the day as Erika says: “Things are getting worse it

seems everyday now a new scar is added to the existing ones. Even when there are no marks to

show, the scars inside me are widening” (168).

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 There is no doubt that Erika is both physically, emotionally and psychologically

brutalised. The domestic violence she suffers in her relationship with the husband, James, is

untoward and sad. It is disruptive of the expected marital peace and love in marriage. It is sad to

note that Dibia extends his critical vision beyond James family setting. In his narrative, he

captures Bessie, a character in the novel, and a neighbour and a confidant to Erika. Dibia in his

novel brings Bessie and Erika together as the former meets the latter to console her. Dibia opens

her up as she narrates her ordeal with her husband back in Ghana. Bessie tells Erika thus:

Back in Ghana. He used to hit me all the time. He complained about everything. One day

I was so fat, the next day I was lazy. I did everything to please him[…]. Men don’t

change especially not for women. But women always make adjustments and changes to

suit men. The day Kwesi [her husband] hit me in front of our child, I packed my things

and I left him. (88)

In her attempt to console Erika, Bessie, reveals her own sad marital

history which culminated in her packing out of her marriage. Bessie’s

husband, like James, Erika’s husband, beats Bessie. This is a sad and ugly

scenario in domestic space. What is most painful is the physical violence

carried out in the presence of children sometimes, as in the case of Bessie,

and this is sad. Dibia in no uncertain terms uses this slice of experience from

Bessie to buttress his fictional focus, where domestic abuse of power in

contemporary marriages, unlike what the Achebe’s and Emecheta’s created

in their earlier works, as mentioned in the early part of this chapter, prevails.

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Dibia has in his artistic effort set in Nigeria and Britain, shown that domestic abuse of power at

the physical level is not only peculiar to African society (Nigeria), but also prevalent in western

society (Britain) as well. Looking at the narrative done in first person’s narrative point of view,

one observes that it is set between Nigeria and London – a western society. That James is cruel

and violent, and indeed a fighter of the opposite sex because she is a woman is not in doubt.

Thus he abuses his masculine power.

Kaye-Kantrowitz (2003) argue that “violence is an aspect of power” (483). James fights Erika,

his wife often. It is not because he is a termagant, but because he sees Erika as a woman, a

weaker vessel as it were, whom he can subjugate, kick and beat at will even without provocation

from Erika.

The issue of domestic abuse of power in society has become such that the concerned public has

observed that men not only batter their wives, or psychologically and emotional traumatise them

in their relationships, but also increase the woman’s psychological and emotional woes through

sexual assault.

Sexual violence thus becomes a ready act at the disposal of every male, especially men to

coerce and subjugate their spouse. It is humiliating and traumatic as the victim feels her privacy

invaded and brutalised. This is an abuse of power at the domestic level. Wanjiru (2011), writing

on sexual violence concludes that:

The subject of sexual violence against women has been an issue of worldwide concern.

This kind of violence is broadbased. It includes rape and defilement of women[…]

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 assault, prostitution[…]. Sexual violence cuts across lines of income, class, age and

culture. (219-220)

That sexual violence as a form of domestic abuse of power is a universal phenomenon that is not

peculiar to Africa, is not in doubt. This attracts the artistic lens of Amma Darko and Jude Dibia,

as they fictionalise this in their novels.

Darko on her part invents her narrator-protagonist as a victim of domestic abuse of power

who has not only suffered physically in the hands of her husband, Akobi, but also has been

victim of sexual assaults. In Beyond the Horizon, our critical focus, Darko reveals that men can

be callous in their demand for sexual pleasure from their wives. This she shows as her narrator

and victim, Mara, tells us her experience with her husband, Akobi, thus:

He was lying on the mattress face up, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling when I entered.

Cool, composed and authoritative, he indicated with a pat of his hand on the space

beside him that I should lie down beside him. I did so, more out of apprehension of

starting another fight than anything else. Wordlessly, he stripped off my clothes, stripped

off his trousers, turned my back to him and entered me [through the back]. Then he

ordered me off the mattress to go and lay out my mat because he wanted to sleep alone.

(22)

This that Darko vividly captures here is no doubt a sorry and sad one as a husband engages his

lovely and legally married wife in sexual act in a callous and beastly fashion. Akobi.s demand

for sex and the way he carries out the act is nothing but violent. It is violent as he lovelessly and

without passion orders his wife like a sex slave, harlot paid for, and turns her like a robot under

his manipulation. Most painful is the post sex act action of Akobi. He orders his wife, Mara, out

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of the mattress to go and lay on a mat on a hard cement floor after subjecting her to a squatting

position to enable him satisfy his sexual desire. Akobi is indeed a heartless and callous husband

who does not care about the comfort and pleasure of his spouse during sex act. He is selfish and

atrociously violent as he unleashes sexual violence on his wife. Darko thus shows that men in

their gender relations with their wives can be brutal and beastly like Akobi. What an abuse of

domestic power! It is a great artistic achievement for Darko to courageously capture this scene

and others in her novel to dramatise sexual violence as a form of domestic abuse of power. As a

female writer, she writes in harmony with Mill.s (1997) conclusion that:

The gender part of what women write about women is mere sycophancy to men[…].

Literary women [which Darko is one] are becoming more free-spoken, and more willing

to express their real sentiments. (25)

That Darko as a novelist has freely expressed her real sentiments on a universal issue such as

domestic abuse of power, as it is evident in sexual violence is not in doubt. The author, Darko,

has indeed crafted this ugly scenario as she imaginatively follows Mara to Germany, as the latter

travels to meet her husband, Akobi.

It is revealed in the novel that Mara goes to meet the husband in Europe after the husband

had gone for two years. On arrival at the airport in Germany, it is observed that Akobi sends his

friend Osey to receive his wife and bring her home. But most revealing in this errand is the fact

that Osey seems to be a tool in the hands of Akobi to be used to work on Mara’s sense of

morality and decent culture from Africa. This is revealed as Osey boards a train with Mara to

meet Akobi, the latter’s wife. Mara tells us that Osey took her to “a film house to watch a film

full of action” (61). The so-called action packed film is nothing but a pornographic film intended

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to wet Mara‟s sexual appetite. Consequently, Osey makes amorous advances at Mara. But Mara,

out of moral decency as a woman, expresses shock and surprise at the intention of Osey. But

Osey calls her reaction a “monkey drama” and rhetorically asks: “Did I eat you?” (65). Here, a

critical reader can observe that Osey tries to loosen Mara’s strong sense of morality as a married

woman coming to Europe to meet her husband from Africa. Osey’s intention as concluded above

is further buttressed by the fact that Osey tells Mara that beautiful African women like she, are in

Europe engaging in commercial sex to become rich (68). Thus one can conclude that Osey is just

working on Mara’s psyche to prepare her mind, repackage her moral consciousness for

prostitution in Europe, as the novel further reveals. Darko skilfully invents Mara into morally

degenerating sex trade as the latter laments:

I felt drained, so drained that I had to ask for a glass of water. My

husband brings me from home [Ghana, Africa] to a foreign land and

puts me in a brothel to work, and what money I make, he uses to pay

the rent on his lover’s apartment, and to renovate a house for her in

her village back home. (137-138)

This final plunge into commercial sex was made easy by a conspiracy between Akobi and Osey

to sexually assault Mara, as husband and friend, in order to make sure she strips off her culture of

moral decency. This is indeed sychologically violent in the relationship between a husband and

wife and the former’s friend. But the novelist in a dramatic scene in the novel, shows that Akobi

is violent in his sexual relationship with his wife. Mara narrates her sexually violent ordeal in the

hands of her husband thus:

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 “Remove it quick quick,” pointing to my trousers. By the time I had got out of them he

too had got his trousers down to his knees. Emanating an aura of no-nonsense, time-

istoo- precious-to waste on you, he signalled with his right forefinger that I should kneel;

which I did, still in my sweatshirt. Then he took my jeans, spread them on the bathroom

floor, and knelt down. I felt him enter me from behind and the next second he was out of

me again and demanding hastily to know whether I had taken something against

pregnancy. When I replied that I hadn’t, I heard him curse impatiently[…]. Seconds later

Osey‟’ hand poked through and laughed out loud and said to me „you look like you‟re

waiting to grind your mother’s millet for her, Mara‟. An expensive joke at my kneeling

position, naked from waist down, my bare bottom exposed[…]. My thoughts were

curtailed when I felt the sudden sharp pain of Akobi’s entry in me. He was brutal and

over-fast with me, […]. And then he was up and I was still kneeling there, very much in

pain because what he did was a clear case of domestic rape[…]. I emerged from the

bathroom feeling embarrassed and ashamed. I kept my eyes down. (84-85)

In this long and detailed sex scene involving a couple, Darko demonstrates her novelistic skill as

she is able to give her audience a picture of sexual violence in the marital relations between a

couple. It is sad that Akobi treats his wife without passion. He makes love to her without

emotional feeling and attachment. As the passage shows, one can critically conclude that Akobi,

known as “Cobby” in Europe is a beast. The way he orders his wife “remove it quick, quick” to

pull, in a military fashion, and give kneel-down position for sex, is most appalling and

disheartening. Indeed, he enters Mara beastly through the back again as he did back home in

Ghana. This sexual act is no doubt very dissatisfactory to Mara, as she feels sharp pain after the

brutal sex act from her husband. In fact, she describes the action as domestic rape. It is a well

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known fact between couples that sex act is expected to be a pleasurable expression of love for

each other. It is mutual and passionately motivated. But what one finds in Beyond the Horizon is

a sex act between couples that is not passionately motivated and not a pleasurable expression of

love as Mara is treated like a paid prostitute, a sex object, and not a wife. It is no doubt a case of

domestic rape and an abuse of power as Mara herself concludes after the ugly experience.

Commenting on rape and defilement in Kenya, Wanjiru quoted earlier says that:

Victims of sexual violence [like Mara in Beyond the Horizon] are usually left

traumatised. After violation, the victim feels used, vulnerable, abused and frightened.

Basically, they are unable to face themselves. They lose their self-esteem and self-worth

and become emotionally paralysed. They sink deep into trauma. (221)

Wanjiru‟s conclusion rightly captures Mara‟s psychological and emotional feeling after the

husband‟s brutal sex act. Indeed, Omonubi-McDonnell again argues that “Rape is not a crime of

lust. It is a crime of violence” (43). This argument buttresses Darko‟s creation to the effect that

what Akobi does to her wife is not a case of mutual love and sex act, but a case of domestic rape,

as Mara describes it. This no doubt is sexual violence, and a demonstration of male abuse of

power in the domestic domain.

What Darko does in her novel is to sound it loud and clear that sexual violence in the

marital relations between couples is rampant and worrisome. This is so because, even Osey in

the novel also makes love to his Ghanaian wife on bathroom floor as if his wife was not a human

being that deserves dignity and a modicum of comfort while giving him sexual pleasure. Most

appalling is the way he initiates it. Mara tells us: “The beating over, Osey pushed his wife into

the bathroom…” (74). A husband, after beating his wife, pushes her, not into bed, but into the

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bathroom without a bed but a hard cement floor, for sexual pleasure. Osey and Akobi are

callously and sexually violent in their relationships with their wives. This is domestic abuse of

power indeed, as it is being carried out in the home

Furthermore, the novel shows that Akobi and Mara are traditionally and legally married.

Both parents consented to the union. Consequently, one expects a harmonious co-existence

between both couples. None is expected to undo the other in a normal marital relationship. Be

that as it may, Darko in her imaginative dramatisation of abuse of power as an issue in post-

colonial Ghana, demonstrates that a husband can abuse and violently maltreat, without sense of

decency, a woman he loved and married. This is most appalling as shown in the character of

Akobi who in Germany takes his wife Mara, to a party. Taking her out for the first time since she

flew into Germany from Ghana, Akobi takes her to an unknown destination. Mara narrates:

Then Gitte [Akobi’s German wife] told me that because she and Cobby [Akobi, as known

and called in Germany] had been out a couple of times without me, Cobby had suggested

to her that, for once, he should take me out alone, to give me a good time. Where we

drove to I don’t know but I was certain that it was outside Hamburg. (110)

One wonders what could be morally wrong with Akobi, a husband, to have lost all sense of

morality and decency as he takes his wife to an unknown destination for “a good time”.

However, the author skilfully reveals Akobi’s debased moral dispositional qualities in her

invention as her narrator and victim of domestic abuse of power, Mara, narrates her ordeal

further in the outing with her husband thus:

Akobi returned some minutes later and brought me a glass of wine. Then I was left on my

own again for a long, long while during which I finished off my wine and waited. Then

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 something started happening to me. I was still conscious but I was losing control of

myself. Something was in the wine I had drank. It made me see double and I felt strange

and happy and high[…] so high that I was certain I could fly free. Then suddenly the

room was filled with people, all men, and they all were talking and laughing and

drinking. And they were completely naked! There must have been at least ten men for

what I saw were at least twenty images. Then they all around me, many hairy bodies, and

they were stripping me, fondling me, playing with my body, pushing my legs apart, wide,

wide apart. As for the rest of the story, I hope that the gods of Naka didn’t witness It […].

(111)

A critical study of the excerpts above reveals that Akobi took his lovely and legally married

wife, to a whore house in Germany. Mara’s experience reveals Akobi, as a character who is

morally degenerate and lacks conscience, as he takes his wife for an outing, only to get her drunk

with an intoxicating substance and hands her over to macho men to sexually abuse her

debasingly. The reader sympathises with Mara, who innocently gets lured into the hands of

“devouring lions” who sexually abuse her. It is disheartening too to note that ten men had sex

with one woman, who had not been in the whore business before the encounter. It is quite sad

and horrific that a husband, Akobi, could act this way against his wife. At this scene, one can

conclude that in the marital relationship between Akobi and Mara (husband and wife), there is

nothing but violence. This is because of the austere relationship between the couples. Akobi is

heartless and loveless as he in a way uses the so-called outing for a good time to prepare his wife

for a life of whoredom for financial gain in Germany. He thus abuses his position as a husband.

His use of the power vested on him as the man and husband of the woman is abused in this

scene, as he exploits and debases his wife. The novelist shows that Mara, after this experience

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plunges into prostitution as she has been stripped off of her moral culture, in an attempt to eke

out a living in Europe (113-120). She painfully says: “As for the morals of life my mother

brought me up by, I have cemented them with coal tar in my conscience” (131). Mara had no

choice but to concur with the morally diabolic plan of Akobi and his friend Osey to

systematically expose her to the “cold world” of prostitution, as she sees it (115). She cannot run

back to Ghana as she has no means to do so. Moreso, she will be exposed to blackmail as her

“outing for a good time” with her husband was filmed and Akobi has the video. Mara tells us

again:

The situation was this: the three of us [Akobi, Osey and herself, Mara] were watching a

video film that showed me completely naked, with men’s hands moving all over my body.

Then some held my two legs wide apart while one after the other, many men, white,

black, brown, even one who looked Chinese, took turns upon me. All this was captured

clearly on the video film. And this was what Osey and Akobi blackmailed me with so that

I agreed to do the job at peepy [a whore house for commercial sex]. (115)

What a sexual violence, an abuse of the power of a husband, and a pity! Mara appears invited by

the husband, Akobi to Germany as “bundle” (71) to be debased, dehumanised and forced,

frustrated unwittingly, and unwillingly into the world of prostitutes in Europe for economic gain.

This is violence, physically, sexually, psychological, emotionally and socially speaking. Darko

the novelist is highly remarkable in the adroit and artistic manner in which she has been able to

give flesh and blood to an issue as sensitive as this in her novel.

Domestic abuse of power as it operates at the sexual level is nothing but abnormal

experience for a woman in her marital relationship with her man. There is no doubt that the

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novelist has represented the life of sadistic, callous and inhuman men like Akobi and Osey in

their gender relations as it operates at a sexually violent level. Thus Darko’s artistic effort

concurs with Henry James‟ comment as quoted in Criticism: Major Statements, thus: “The

reason for the existence of a novel is that it does attempt to represent life” (360).

Jude Dibia in Unbridled also explores this issue of sexual violence as a form of abuse of

domestic power. In Unbridled, just as Mara of Beyond the Horizon travels from Ghana to meet

Akobi her husband in Germany, Erika travels from Nigeria to London to meet James, her fiancé

who later became her husband, in London. In London, Erika finds James as one who appears

different from the picture he painted of himself in their internet date. The novelist reveals that

James is sexually violent. He does not seek Erika’s mutual consent for sex, but experiences it

even when Erika does not enjoy the act. On arrival in London and in James apartment, Erika

finds herself being subjected to sexual act thus:

In no time, he was by my side kissing me and fiddling with my bra. I was soon naked

before him. Many thoughts flashed through my head. I was not given an opportunity to

ask him anything at all about what I was doing here and what plans he had for me now

that I was here. There were promises of marriage and citizenship while I was still in

Nigeria, but nothing was said that night. The only noise he made was runting and

ejaculating expletives while he jabbed at my insides with his withering prick. Did he care

that I felt no pleasure from this? (34)

A look at the passage above shows Dibia graduallyexpose James as a character who is sexually

violent. This is so because he invites his found love in the internet, to London for possible

marriage and citizenship. He does not welcome her or try to allow her settle down, but subjects

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her to sexual act which Erika does not enjoy. She experiences nothing pleasurable in the act that

appears forced on her. But James does not bother about Erika’s pleasure but his own pleasure

and excitement. This is sexual violence which he unleashes on Erika. The act reveals him to be a

selfish character. An examination of Dibia‟s use of the verb “jab” in the passage shows an action

unsolicited. Webster’s Comprehensive Dictionary quoted earlier in this study „sees jab‟ as a verb

that denotes “to penetrate suddenly with a pointed object [such as James penis], to thrust, to poke

sharply, […] a quick poke or stab” (518). The use of this verb gives a very vivid descriptive

picture of the sex act James had with Erika, a woman he calls his fiancée, and with the plan to

marry and make a British citizen. That James suddenly, sharply and in a quick manner stabs

Erika with his penis is nothing but violent. He is violent in the act. He thus has no feeling or

regard for the feminine nature and frame of the woman, Erika. No wonder Erika does not enjoy

the sex act as she feels pounced upon like a devouring beast pounces on its prey, and devour.

However, Dibia takes us to a rape scene, employing reminiscences as a mode of character

exposition in his novel. The author shows Erika reminisce when her father forcefully rapes her

during her childhood, thereby committing incest. This was her first encounter with sexual

experience. This indeed is sexual violence and an abuse of the power of a father, in an encounter

between a daughter and a father. Erika in her childhood innocence narrates:

His [her father] tone scared me. His words carried no meaning to me. There was a

claustrophobic sense of violence that seemed to hang around the little room and I was

aware that there was nowhere to run to […].I was too late. He pounced on me and before

I knew it, he had ripped off my wrapper and pinned me to the raffia mat on the floor. I

screamed once. It was loud. It was piercing. It was animal. It was terror. He shoved one

of his hands into my mouth to suppress my scream and I bit hard, draining blood[…]. He

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 withdrew his bleeding hand and hit me several times across the face until I stopped

screaming and was reduced to subdued sobs[…]. I felt my father fully inside me and the

pain brought visions of one particular wasp that always made its way into my room

through the open window. (148-149

This scene no doubt, portrays domestic abuse of power in the relationship between father (a

male) and daughter (a female). The rape scene is nothing but a violent deflowering of a young

and innocent maiden who sees the father as her protector and guardian.

Amazingly, she finds the father violently pounce on her to satisfy his inordinate sexual desire,

which he could have had with his wife or any other woman outside the nuclear or even extended

family circle.

Indeed, it is chilling and sadistic, animalistic, heinous and dastardly violent for a father to

sexually abuse a biological daughter. He hits Erika to unwilling submission in order to

successfully carry out his violent act. The novelist’s dexterity and artistic prowess in his

fictionalisation of sexual violence as a demonstration of male power abuse in post-colonial

Nigeria is remarkable. He does not only show the vicious nature of men’s relationship with

women, (males and females), but also demonstrates his art in fiction. This he does, as he weaves

his victim and protagonist of sexual abuse tale, Erika, to be a sex object to every male. Most

disheartening and painful is the fact that Erika always feels sad and unhappy after an experience

that is designed to bring joy and happiness. This is because she is always violently engaged in it

and unwillingly subdued. The psychological and emotional pains she suffers is quite obvious. No

wonder she laments:

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 And like many women, I imagined, who had been physically and emotionally abused by

men, what letting go meant was to simply vanish into the shadows where the past could

not catch up ever again with the future. (175)

Dibia indeed gives us a relationship that is riddled with violence. Thus he invents for his

audience a society that dramatises a contemporary social malaise. Domestic abuse of power in

male/female relationship has become a serious issue for concern. Hence Dibia chooses to use

fiction to not only expose the violent and rampant nature, but also to condemn it as the reader

sympathises with the female victim who helplessly and unwillingly gets „butchered‟ by sex

crazed men.

However, a critical study of the novels Beyond the Horizon and Unbriddled, reveals a

peculiar device employed by the novelists. In Beyond the Horizon, one observes the artful

deployment of irony as a narrative device. Mara, the protagonist of the novel travels to meet her

husband, Akobi, in Europe with the hope of a better life. Her excitement is obvious as she

happily prepares and boards a plane to Germany. But the author weaves Mara as one who looses

her sense of decency and morality as she tries to survive economically in Europe by engaging in

commercial sex. One recalls that her husband, Akobi promises better life, resulting from material

gains. But what Mara finds on arrival is shocking as she gets re-oriented and lured into

prostitution by the husband and his friend, Osey. This broken hope and promise, dashed Mara‟s

world and vision. Ironically, she does not get her hopes and aspirations before she travelled from

Ghana to Germany, fulfilled.

Besides, Erika in Unbridled has high hopes as an “African Queen” in the hands of James,

a British, who woos her for friendship and marriage via the internet. Erika embraces James‟

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promises of migration to Britain from Nigeria, job opportunities and marriage. Indeed, Erika sees

herself as one who was running away from Nigeria at a time the country was down

economically. She looks forward to living in London with a European husband, James, in the

affluence and influence of a Briton. Unfortunately, her hopes burst like soap bubbles as she

begins to find uncomfortable, her relationship with James, as the latter becomes violent

physically and even sexually. It is ironic that Erika migrates to Britain from Nigeria for a better

life (greener pastures), as a way of escaping the social and economic hardship in her home

country, Nigeria.

Both Mara in Beyond the Horizon and Erika in Unbridled are two of a kind. They have

the same hopes and aspirations as promised by their individual male partners. Ironically, their

hopes dashed as they met with harsh social and economic realities as they get physically and

sexually abused by their men in their domestic spaces. The novelists fictional cosmos is cast in

situational irony, as Perrine defines it, and as employed by Adichie as well, in Purple Hibiscus.

The use of situation irony is well commented on, in this study on page 80.

Both novel’s protagonists (Mara and Erika) though victims of domestic abuse of power in

their various domestic domains, had high expectations of becoming socially and economically

richer and better than they were in their individual home countriesbefore migrating to Europe to

join their men. But in terms of fulfillment of their expectations, they found themselves struggling

to survive as they found themselves in the hands of physically and sexually abusive men and

society. What a sad and an ironic situation!

- Resistance to physical and sexual violence

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In the power relations in the novels under study in this chapter, one notes resistance to the

domestic abuse of power inherent. These are not militant in nature, as they are subtle and

peripheral. This is because the victims are females who appear weak and lack the macho power

in the male counterparts. Understandable is the fact that these female victims are wife’s to the

males who beat and intimidate them to psychological and emotional breakdown. There is no

doubt that the victims feel the dire need to emancipate themselves from the violent power

relations that exist between them and the males – their husbands, in each of the novels. Hence

they resist in whatever way, no matter how overt or covert, as their power as females carries

them. Thus they engage in strategic and secret service operations, as in Beyond the Horizon and

violent confrontations as in Unbridled, to free themselves.

- Resistance through strategic operations

Amma Darko‟s Beyond the Horizon reveals the protagonist, Mara, as a character who puts up

resistance to an early attempt to invade her womanhood. On arrival to Germany from Ghana, she

meets Osey, Akobi‟s friend whom the latter sends to receive his wife (Mara) and bring her

home. While taking Mara home from the airport by train, Osey tries to seduce Mara. From

Mara‟s cultural and moral upbringing back in Ghana, Africa, this appears unwholesome and

indecent, at least for a married woman that she is.

She sees the attempt as a morally wrong move by Osey. Seducing a possibly unwilling

opposite sex, especially one legally married to another, like Mara to Akobi, bothers on violence.

There is no doubt that Osey‟s attempt is sexually violent. Hence Mara resists the attempt as she

springs up in fury against Osey. She tells us the experience, asking Osey thus: “What is this eh?

What are these foolish questions you are asking me, eh? Have you maybe forgotten who I am [a

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married woman]?” (65). This rhetorical question is strategic as it puts Osey on check, and thus

resists his seductive attempts.

- Summary of findings

n the realm of post-colonial Sub-Saharan African literature, the themes of abuse of power

and resistance are prominent, reflecting the socio-political landscapes of various nations. Here’s

a summary of the findings related to these themes across selected novels:

. Depiction of Authority and Power Structures

- Corruption and Tyranny: Many novels illustrate the corruption of leaders who, having

risen to power post-independence, often exhibit behaviors reminiscent of colonial oppressors.

They manipulate political systems, engage in nepotism, and maintain authoritarian control over

citizens.

- Colonial Legacy: The remnants of colonial rule are evident, as new leaders often

adopt oppressive tactics ingrained in the colonial past, leading to a cyclical nature of abuse.

Resistance and Agency

- Grassroots Movements: Characters often engage in grassroots resistance, highlighting

the power of collective action among communities. This form of resistance reflects a deep-rooted

desire for justice and equality.

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 - Symbolism of the Individual: Protagonists frequently embody the struggle against

oppressive systems, representing broader societal conflicts. Their journeys depict personal

sacrifices and the fight for dignity and autonomy.

Narrative Techniques

- Realism and Magic Realism: Many authors employ magic realism to portray the

complexities of power dynamics. This intertwining of the ordinary and the extraordinary offers

nuanced insights into the characters’ psychological states and societal conditions.

- Non-linear Storytelling: The structure of these narratives often mirrors the tumultuous

history of the continent, echoing the chaotic realities of post-colonial life and resistance.

Cultural Context and Identity

Cultural Resistance: Characters often reclaim cultural identities as a form of resistance

against oppression, emphasizing the importance of heritage and community in challenging

colonial legacies.

-Gender Dynamics: Women’s roles in the resistance narratives highlight intersectional

struggles against both patriarchal and colonial oppression. Female characters often emerge as

powerful agents of change.

Impact of Globalization

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 Neocolonialism: Some novels explore the impact of globalization and foreign

interventions, framing them as contemporary forms of colonial exploitation that exacerbate

existing power imbalances.

Economic Disparitie: The intersection of global capitalism and local realities reveals

how economic structures perpetuate inequality, leading to further resistance efforts.

4.2 ANALYSIS

Data analysis in the context of abuse of power and resistance in selected post-colonial sub-

Saharan African novels involves examining themes, characters, and narrative structures that

reflect the socio-political realities of the region's historical and contemporary context. The

analysis typically focuses on how these novels depict power dynamics, the impact of colonial

legacies, and the responses of individuals and communities to oppression.

### Key Themes to Explore:

1. **Abuse of Power:**

- **Corruption and Governance:** Look for portrayals of corrupt political systems and leaders,

often reflecting the post-colonial state’s failure to deliver on promises of independence and

development.

- **Violence and Coercion:** Analyze how physical and psychological violence is used by

those in power to maintain control over the populace.

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 - **Censorship and Propaganda:** Examine how governmental control of information and

media is portrayed in the texts, showcasing the silencing of dissent.

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