I was quite skeptical about reading a novel about Nigeria that had been described mostly in terms of politics and prison life. That topic, I thought, had been covered ad nauseam in contemporary Nigerian literature. When would Nigerian authors begin to write about human beings living their lives as normal people? I was only convinced to pick up Helon Habila's novel after reading a short story of his in The Virginia Quarterly Review, entitled "My Uncle Ezekiel," (available online) and liking it tremendously. I thought, even if it is about politics, he writes so well, why not give it a try.
Well, Helon Habila's book is not so much about politics as it is about people caught up in dire political and socio-economic circumstances. Throughout the novel the characters always take precedence over the political matter so that we get more than passing glimpses into their lives. We begin to understand what forces beyond their control shaped their thinking, and appreciate their perseverance even in the face of the most overwhelming odds. It is a testament to Habila's strengths that such a bleak novel can be so enriching, that depictions of poverty (even of Poverty Street) do not come off as over-romanticized pleas of pity, and that in the face of it all his characters breathe, live, speak, act, fall in love, get heartbroken, wear bad wigs, and still have the courage to dream very, very big.
I immensely enjoyed Habila's depictions of Lagos, having lived there for a while in the kind of environment he was conjuring up. I liked the fact that he did not meddle in stereotypes (Prison and Dele Giwa maybe, but to good effect), and did not feel the need to censor himself the way a lot of African writers often do. Those qualities made his book all the more truthful. There were, of course, some weak spots in the novel, but they are so small I would consider them inconsequential to the overall effect of the story being told.
This novel is an ambitious one, especially for a first-timer, and considering the act of will it must have taken to write it in Lagos, with so little hope that it would eventually get published. I give Habila a resounding applause for his effort, and hope that he continues to produce more good works like this one.