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A review by sharonbakar
An Orchestra of Minorities by Chigozie Obioma
3.0
Chigozie Obioma’s excellent debut, The Fishermen, was Booker Prize shortlisted in 2015 and his second novel follows suit. An Orchestra Of Minorities tells the story of Chinonso, a simple chicken farmer whose life changes one day when he saves the life a young woman, Ndali, who is about to jump from a bridge. When the pair meet again by accident some time later, they fall in love. However Ndali is from a wealthy and influential family, while Chinonso is poor and uneducated, which leads her parents to initially reject him.
After he is humiliated by her brother at a family party, he decides to take the drastic step of selling his farm and house to secure a university place in Cyprus on the advice of an old school friend. But when he arrives there he discovers that he has been utterly duped. This part of the book is based on a true story (which you can find on the Guardian website), and Obioma has some interesting things to say about how Africans are treated when they go overseas.
Chinonso’s story becomes increasingly tragic as he gets ever further from his home and all that he loves. Obioma draws on Igbo cosmology throughout, and the story is narrated by Chinonso’s Chi – his spiritual guardian – who is pleading the case of his “host” (as he calls him) in front of a heavenly tribunal.
This unusual point of view enables Obioma to explore his character’s thoughts and emotions while being able to slip outside of his body at convenient moments to gain a broader perspective. He can even see the goings on in the bizarre spirit world that runs parallel to ours.
This is a story full of humour and pathos, and is fine when it gets going. But the pacing is at times much too slow and the novel could have done with a stronger editorial hand to trim excess description and some of the Chi’s longer invocations.
There is a distinctly Nigerian flavour to the book in terms of the language. The prose is a delight, with fresh metaphors on every page and sprinklings of Igbo proverbs, sayings and beliefs (which may remind the reader of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart). The author is also unapologetic in his use of Nigerian Pidgin English and words and phrases in Igbo.
After he is humiliated by her brother at a family party, he decides to take the drastic step of selling his farm and house to secure a university place in Cyprus on the advice of an old school friend. But when he arrives there he discovers that he has been utterly duped. This part of the book is based on a true story (which you can find on the Guardian website), and Obioma has some interesting things to say about how Africans are treated when they go overseas.
Chinonso’s story becomes increasingly tragic as he gets ever further from his home and all that he loves. Obioma draws on Igbo cosmology throughout, and the story is narrated by Chinonso’s Chi – his spiritual guardian – who is pleading the case of his “host” (as he calls him) in front of a heavenly tribunal.
This unusual point of view enables Obioma to explore his character’s thoughts and emotions while being able to slip outside of his body at convenient moments to gain a broader perspective. He can even see the goings on in the bizarre spirit world that runs parallel to ours.
This is a story full of humour and pathos, and is fine when it gets going. But the pacing is at times much too slow and the novel could have done with a stronger editorial hand to trim excess description and some of the Chi’s longer invocations.
There is a distinctly Nigerian flavour to the book in terms of the language. The prose is a delight, with fresh metaphors on every page and sprinklings of Igbo proverbs, sayings and beliefs (which may remind the reader of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart). The author is also unapologetic in his use of Nigerian Pidgin English and words and phrases in Igbo.