I'm sure many of you know Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie as the sampled voice in Beyoncé's hit song, "Flawless." You might also be familiar with her novels, the most popular being "Half of a Yellow Sun" and "Americanah." I, however, connect with Adichie on a deeply personal level. To me, she is a fellow African-born American citizen. It's as if we are soul-sisters that share the same misgivings, fears, and hopes.
But I didn't always feel this way...
I read "Americanah" the summer before my freshman year of college. The storyline follows the life of a strong Nigerian woman, Ifemelu, as she leaves Africa for America and endures various trials. At that time, the bold and brilliant words of Adichie were wasted on me. I can recall closing the novel with anger, most bothered by these specific passages:
"The only reason you say that race was not an issue is because you wish it was not. We all wish it was not. But it’s a lie. I came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think of myself as black and I only became black when I came to America."
"Racism should never have happened and so you don't get a cookie for reducing it."
“Dear Non-American Black, when you make the choice to come to America, you become black. Stop arguing. Stop saying I'm Jamaican or I'm Ghanaian. America doesn't care.”
I hated Adichie's portrayal of race, women, Africa and America. I soon realized that my animosity stemmed from confusion and fear. However, I wasn't confused by the meaning of her words, I simply didn't understand race and racism.
I attribute this to my upbringing. I was raised in a white home in a predominantly white area. For most of my life, I was the "white black girl" or the "Oreo." I saw race through a different lens, much like Ifemelu did upon coming to America. Because of this, I created a safety net -- little jokes about my athletic abilities and eating habits had no effect -- I could tune out the racism. However, once I finally understood how offensive many jokes, phrases, and names were, it was a harsh realization.
Looking back, I see that "Americanah" taught me about myself and what it really means to be black. I shouldn't be ashamed of the color of my skin or the place that I was born. I should not ignore the racism in the world, whether it's affecting me, the Muslim woman on the plane, the Vietnamese man at the coffee shop, or the Mexican child at the grocery store.
That is why Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's novel is so important. It offers a firsthand account of a world that is controlled by hatred and stereotypes. Without being patronizing, "Americanah" pushes readers to reevaluate blackness in America and to recognize and accept people -- regardless of race.