The Twist and Turns in 'Under the Udala Tree'

Under the Udala Tree is a novel that's specifically written to give voice to the LGBTQ community in Nigeria. With the Biblical reference of Hebrews 11:1 being Chinelo Okparanta's monumental epigraphic adoption, any religious fanatic would have thought they were about to read another creative meme immersed in scriptural condiments. But as they read through and can't connect the dots, it slips steadily into their subconsciousness until they are revitalized with the optimism of her character, Ndidi, who says the whole of Nigeria will be that place where love is allowed to be love between man and woman, man and man and woman and woman. Gbam! That being said, the only question that rings in my head is why the author chooses to tackle this hostility from a religious angle. Is it because Nigeria, according to Win-Gallup International Global Index of Religiousity and Atheism perceived index and other parameters, ranks as one of the most religious countries in the world? Or because religion has successfully snuffed life out of that idea in this part of the world? Or because she hopes to see the fulfillment of that and other relational scriptures like Hebrews 8 in gay relationships in Nigeria?

Well, the story runs on a simple plot structure with Ijeoma, the only child of Uzo and Adaora being at the centre of it all. As events unfold, we are first introduced to her background and formation years. At this point, our attention is drawn to three notable happenings: the first prayer she offers about the civil war which she perceives does not get God's attention; the second about her father, his eventual suicide and the consciousness of her confused sexuality at age eleven. These notables transform into what we now see as she climbs up the ladder of puberty into adulthood charting a new course of emotional attraction--to girls her age, as against moral law--for herself, becoming conceited in her own belief of God's dynamism in replacing faulty old laws with new ones that let gay people be and the bitterness of her father's suicide together with her mother's abandonment. 

In all fairness to the writer and her imaginative prowess, this book is a great read but her attempt at convincing us that homsexuality is a natural phenomenon in a set of people fails woefully. Just in between Ijeoma's transition from Ojoto to Obodoanuli Girls' Academy in Oraifite, we see how she has been entangled with Amina, the Fulani-Hausa girl she brings home on a fateful day and how connection has been sparked up almost immediately to birth further sexual explorations. At first, both are forced to stay away from each other after being caught pants down by the grammar school teacher in the hovel in his house. However, one thing leads to the other and they are back at it again until Amina yields her entire being to the teachings of the scriptures in her Sunday services, revivals and Wednesday evening devotionals. From that moment, Amina begins to channel her sexual attraction to the opposite sex to the point that she falls in love with a young, promising Hausa boy whom she eventually marries after secondary school.

Additionally, the author fails woefully in proving through Ijeoma, the narrator, that God justifies gay relationships among mankind. It's not worrisome that this very idea occupies the better part of the story but it's amusing to know it's just a wasted effort after all. Or how else does one describe a child whose conscience has been seared to resist any form of interference with a routine of the behaviour or lifestyle she must have acquired through previous repetition of a mental experience (according to American Journal of Psychology) we will never know before meeting Amina? And the delight she derives in twisting the scriptures in her brain to validate her immorality? Yes, she feels bad for being caught in the act nevertheless, the unwillingness deep down in her makes mockery of every effort her religious mother makes at cleansing and restoring her soul. This mockery doesn't stop there, it continues even when she feels prompted by the good will in her to pray about the abominable act and ask God for forgiveness. The second and third time she feels this way after a sexual encounter with Ndidi, the good will in her 'torments' her so much that she rushes off to church the following morning to pray. At this juncture, it's a merry-go-round. It begins with overwhelming emotions mixed with guilt but it relapses into unwillingness again after ignoring  the cue to pray from John 8 where Jesus says he that is without sin should be the first to cast a stone. 

Though her effort at convincing us fails, we can't shrug off the fact that she tries to raise some dust challenging certain religious dogmata like using a decanter filled with the blood of an animal for deliverance and the story of Adam and Eve in the Bible as the first set of humans on earth. Indeed, it's recorded that God declares Cain a vagabond and puts a mark of destruction on him so that anyone who finds him can kill him. It is also recorded that Cain eventually gets married. Now, if all of this really has no connection to allegory, whose daughter was Cain's wife then? Could there have been other humans on earth besides Adam and Eve at the time? Food for thought, hun? For another patting on the author's shoulder for a job well done, we see that she tactfully and successfully employs empathy and the stream of consciousness techniques to explore Ijeoma's messed up mind, her helplessness when she sincerely makes an effort to become straight again after her marriage to Chibundu. All of a sudden, Ijeoma becomes endeared to us through her struggles and our feeling of hatred is shifted to Chibundu who feigns love and understanding or let's say mixes love and understanding with desire. So, the whole charade continues until Ijeoma gives birth to a girl as against his desire. Henceforth, her struggles worsen, her hope of redemption dampens and her willingness to keep trying vanishes completely. All thanks to Chibundu's sudden hostility. The next thing we see is her decision one night to abandon her marriage with Chidinma, her daughter, to fully live a 'manless' life with Ndidi, her gay lover, since her willingness to try being with a man has brought more pains than she ever imagined.

There are one too many lessons to be learnt from this story. Although forgiveness and tolerance are portrayed in the negative from the author’s sense however, co-existing with one another in tandem with (natural) moral laws form the core of our e x i s te n ce i n d iv i d u a l ly a n d collectively. Yes, human beings are free by nature. And yes, it's simply true that this homosexual thing exists on a low key in some quarters around here like the author has pointed out. But from the mind of the critic that I am, in all honesty, I don't see it having a foothold in the Nigerian legal system no matter how hard these writers and other advocates try now and forever.

REVIEWER: Yami Bamgboye