44 pages • 1 hour read
Flora NwapaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Nwapa wrote Efuru shortly after Nigeria gained independence from Britain in 1960. One of the tasks that writers faced at that time was how to frame their colonial past. Nwapa’s novel confronts many of the social, cultural, economic, and political consequences of British influence and domination, which lasted over 100 years. One particularly problematic and poignant aspect of British colonialism is the reality that some Nigerians participated in and profited from the Atlantic slave trade.
Representing the Atlantic slave trade from the African point of view is fraught with contradictions. The devastating cruelty and economic depletion that Europeans wrought on both the African continent and the diasporic African populations of slaves and their descendants are well documented. The transatlantic slave trade also spanned three centuries, from the mid-16th to the late-19th centuries. Over 10 million Africans (and possibly many more) were transported abroad as slaves during that time. The trade would not have been successful without the participation of powerful African slavers, who profited through the system and acted as middlemen for the Europeans.
In Efuru, Nwashike stands in for these middlemen. Nwapa does not explain Nwashike’s exact role—only that he “took part actively in slave dealing” and that the cannons that mark his death were given in exchange for slaves (Chapter 15, Location 3738). Neither does the author specify the enslaved people’s origin: Were they local? prisoners? the result of conquest? The Arab slaver Tippu Tip waged wars in Central Africa to provide Europeans and Zanzibari sultans with a steady stream of slaves from raided villages in the 1880s. Nwapa does not indicate that Nwashike participated in the slave trade on this scale.
A BBC article by contemporary Nigerian writer Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani paints a picture of what someone like Nwashike Ogene might have done to acquire wealth as an agent of the European slave trade (Nwaubani, Adaobi Tricia. “My Nigerian great-grandfather sold slaves.” BBC News, 19 July 2020. Accessed April 30 2022). Nwaubani writes that her Igbo great-grandfather was a businessman who sold slaves in addition to goods like tobacco and palm products. He employed men to capture people from various places, presumably outside of his own community, and bring them to him. Middlemen from the southern coast of Nigeria then took the captives to European traders on the coast. They negotiated the cost of the slaves and collected royalties, some of which went to men like Nwaubani’s great-grandfather, who procured the slaves. Nwapa writes that Nwashike received cannons, guns, and “hot drinks” in exchange for slaves, indicating that Nwashike did not do business through middlemen, but directly with the white slave traders.
The paradox of African participation in the slave trade is that, rather than seeing him as cruel or traitorous, Nwashike’s community reveres him for his wealth and his direct contact with the British and Europeans. His prestige is all the more striking given the very tangible ways that European imperialism continues to impact local life; for example, the ban on homemade gin (and corresponding incentive to buy British gin) speaks to an economic imperialism that has lingered beyond Nigeria’s political independence. When Nwashike dies, the cannon’s persistent firing is a reminder that, although the days of slavery are over, their troubling aftereffects remain.
Efuru is unique for its time because it foregrounds the experiences of women in the domestic and public space—experiences that male writers from the same era and place (e.g., Chinua Achebe and Elechi Amadi) tend to relegate to the background of their novels.
One of the ways Nwapa accomplishes this is through dialogue. Most of the time, the female characters speak for themselves rather than having their speech or activities reported by others. The novel passes the Bechdel Test, which is a method of measuring the representation of women in a given film or other work of fiction: There are more than two named female characters, they talk to each other, and their conversation is about something other than a man. Although the women in Efuru often discuss the activities of their husbands, most of their discourse centers around the duties and experiences of motherhood. Efuru herself is also a frequent topic of conversation (and gossip) among the other women. Some conversations involve interruptions by children that the women must tend to. Although these topics of conversation reflect gendered expectations (pregnancy, fidelity, etc.), these expectations are intertwined with the women’s everyday experience. Even the unexpected shifts in dialogue paint a realistic picture of the multiple roles women must fulfill at any given time.
For a novel written in 1966 in a male-centric society, Efuru therefore stands as an early example of female representation. The extent to which the novel can be considered feminist by modern Western standards is debatable, but it was revolutionary for its time. Nwapa explores a number of ways in which Igbo society oppressed women, such as female circumcision, subservience to one’s husband, and the premium placed on one’s ability to bear children. Nwapa also demonstrates ways in which Igbo women had autonomy in the domestic, social, and economic spheres that Western women did not traditionally enjoy; Omirima and Amede suggest that work is a kind of privilege denied to wealthy white women.
Nevertheless, this autonomy would not be possible if the novel’s women did not work together. Even though Efuru is financially successful on her own, her well-being impacts—and is impacted by—those around her. She maintains relationships with Ossai and Ajanupu even after she marries Gilbert. Amede, who does not like Efuru at first, comes to consider her family. Nkoyeni calls Efuru “mother,” recognizing Efuru’s status as the first wife and a role model. These women share news, solve problems, and help each other with childrearing and childbirth. Most of all, they support one another and stand in solidarity against the men and women who wrong them. When Adizua abandons Efuru, the women stand by her; when she decides to leave his house, her mother and sister-in-law support her decision. When Omirima falsely accuses Efuru of adultery, the members of her age group go to the shrine with her to prove her innocence and Ajanupu protests to Gilbert so forcefully that it provokes a physical confrontation.
Omirima is the only example of a woman who antagonizes the other women. She even insults her friend Amede, telling her that she is not in control of her household. She is not punished for her actions because she remains a mother and an integral part of the community. Omirima therefore benefits from the solidarity that she does not participate in, underscoring its resilience. It is symbolic that Efuru returns to her father’s house at the end of the novel. Even though she no longer has a husband, the other women have not ostracized her, and one suspects that she will remain a well-respected and loved member of her community.
In Igbo society, family lines are not delineated by blood relatives. Polygamy created networks of relations who shared responsibility for childrearing; groups of people rather than individuals were responsible for one another. For instance, when Efuru marries Adizua, a group of men from Nwashike’s household try to persuade her to come home. When that fails, Nwashike sends a second group, which Efuru turns away as well. On the one hand, the group dynamic shows solidarity, both within and across genders. On the other, it is a sign of status to have enough people to deploy in a given situation.
A persistent theme in the novel is that people are more important than money. If someone is part of a large, powerful household, they have the entire household backing them. Family and community relationships are social currency in Igbo society. When Efuru marries Adizua, the biggest strike against him is that he is unknown. Often, people cite the activities of someone’s parents or ancestors to explain or frame current events. If one’s parentage and background are not known, they are not legible in this way and cannot be part of the community.
The network of obligations extends beyond one’s household. One example is Efuru helping Nwosu and Nwabata. They are not her blood relatives, but she feels compelled to help them because they are part of her community. Ogea too becomes part of Efuru’s family, even though she is a servant. Efuru also takes care of other members of the community, such as sending Nnona to the hospital and keeping her money for her after thieves break into Nnona’s house.
Age groups, or age grades, are another example of a family-like group comprising people not related by blood. Age groups in Igbo society consisted of people born within the same three-year period, with separate age groups for the men and women. The members of an age group stayed connected to each from childhood through adulthood. They underwent cultural rites of passage together, socialized and supported one another, and even built businesses and other organizations together. Efuru and Gilbert refer to their age groups multiple times, and Efuru’s supports her when she must clear herself of the charge of adultery. Adizua, whose background is unknown, is not a member of a local age group—another characteristic that makes him an outsider.
These webs of obligations provide social security. Whereas in the West, institutions mediate a concept of social security based on economic stability, in Igbo society, security comes from knowing that others will help you if you experience misfortune or need help in your old age, just as you are obliged to help them. This is one of the reasons that childbearing is integral to Igbo society. Without strong generational cohorts, large households, and tight-knit communities, a society based on relationships rather than money will not survive.