Nigerian author Chigozie Obioma’s debut novel, The Fisherman, has won several prestigious awards. It was shortlisted for the Man Booker prize in 2015. This year’s shortlist, too, has his name on it—for An Orchestra of Minorities. The title comes from a scene in the novel when a hawk lifts off a chick in a poultry farm and all other birds in the yard set up an agitated clucking, similar to wailing. Not so different from the reaction of ordinary humans, good but unremarkable folks, to whom terrible things happen.
Very simply, it’s the story of an Igbo poultry farmer, Chinonso. Returning home from the market one night, he meets a woman on a bridge, all set to jump off. In persuading her to remain alive, he impulsively flings two of his precious birds into the water saying, “This is what will happen if somebody fall inside. The person will die, and no one can see them again.” Chinonso’s words, coming from personal loss—of his parents, the pet gosling from his childhood—strike home. When he and the young woman meet again, love blossoms.
Ndali, a trainee pharmacist, the daughter of a powerful tribal chief, comes from a wealthy, Westernised family that looks down on Chinonso for his lowly status and lack of education. Striving to make himself worthy of her, he sells the poultry farm and invests the money in acquiring a foreign degree in Cyprus. When he lands there, however, he learns that the man he had depended on to help him is a scamster who is now untraceable. Not only is Chinonso penniless, he is also stranded. The rest of the story is about his travails in Cyprus and, on his return four years later, in Nigeria, where he remains obsessed with the idea of getting back everything he has lost—girl, money, self-respect.
Written in the mythic style of Igbo storytelling, the book has an unusual narrator in Chinonso’s guardian spirit, his chi, who gives a testimony of his life in a celestial court before the Creator. The notion of chi is central to Igbo ontological beliefs, which include reincarnation. The idea that the course of a human life depends on the interplay between an unknowable fate and the individual’s will, sets the ground for having a chi who accompanies the reincarnated spirit through its journey.
A chi’s role is to protect its ‘host’ in that lifetime. While Chinonso’s chi has limited influence on his actions (by shaping his dreams or in flashes of thought), it is a keen observer, reporting on everything that happens to him and his responses within and without. This chi is loquacious, taking its time in the telling, frequently commenting and occasionally ranting. Having had other hosts in earlier journeys, it weaves in reminiscences from times past—the arrival of Europeans in the region, the slave trade, the Biafran War—and draws parallels with the present.
As reincarnation of events too is an Igbo belief, the narrative is strengthened by foreshadowing. While using for the most part, lucid, formal English, Chinonso’s chi switches languages, to pidgin and Igbo, with which its host is more comfortable. These touches, though quaint, add colour to an otherwise disturbing tale. All in all, this is an extraordinary novel, well worth the read.