I had never heard of Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi and would probably not have come across her prize-winning novel ‘A Girl is a Body of Water’ in my usual reading. So I’m grateful to the local reading group I’m part of for introducing me to some very different books, many of them set in cultures which I’m not at all familiar with.
This book is set in Uganda, mostly in the early 1970s when Idi Amin was the country’s president. However Kirabo, the main protagonist of the story, lives in a rural area and is not much affected by his regulations. She’s twelve when the story opens, and lives with her grandparents and several other relatives. Her father visits fairly regularly, but she’s never met her mother. And when she tries to ask questions, she’s fobbed off.
Kirabo is rather a strange, independent girl who, on the surface, accepts her role in life, but regularly exercises her independence. She’s quite used to being in trouble, and has figured out ways to sneak out of the home, mostly when she wants to visit Nsuutu, who is reputed to be the village witch. However although she is evidently quite wise, and very aware of what’s going on despite being blind, there doesn’t seem to be anything uncanny about her. And Kirabo hopes she might know about her mother…
The themes of the book revolve around the tension between tradition and modernism, between patriarchy and feminism. Kirabo wants to be educated: she’s bright, and would like to work as a veterinary nurse, although her family would like her to settle down and get married. Her grandfather believes in education for women, and allowing them a voice, but in many cases he’s fighting against village elders and deepset traditions.
The author shows how strong the traditional family was: that men having multiple wives led to children being brought up in community, respecting and loving different mothers, not really minding who actually gave birth to them. Children belong to the whole clan: if a parent dies, there are aunts and grandparents to take care of the children, and aunts have a special role as a girl reaches puberty, telling her the facts of life and preparing her for marriage.
From a cultural perspective, it’s quite an interesting story. We see Kirabo at boarding school, although there’s not a great deal of detail about what happens there - but it’s mostly a positive experience. There’s also a lengthy flashback to 1940 when Mirabo’s grandmother and Nsuutu were her age, close friends and determined to marry the same man so they could share their children.
But… I found it quite heavy-going in places. There’s a lot of description, which caused my eyes to glaze over somewhat and I skimmed several passages about the landscape or the farms. The people’s names are also so similar that it was very hard to remember who was whom. There’s a short list at the back, giving the most significant ones, but even then I often lost track. And there are many Ugandan words or phrases used. I got the gist of what they meant from context, but it felt like a disconnected read, not one where I could feel immersed in the story.
I also found Kirabo rather two-dimensional. I couldn’t really relate to her, and wasn’t sure I even liked her although she’s portrayed as a nice enough person. Perhaps it’s hard to relate to people from such a different culture, but it meant that although I was mildly curious to see if she ever found her mother, I wasn’t sure that I cared all that much.
It will be interesting to discuss, and I’m sure parts of the novel will remain with me for some time. I now know rather more about Uganda - or, at least, the Uganda of the 1970s and early 80s - than I ever did before. It’s also quite thought-provoking, realising that the advance of Western culture was neither positive nor negative but entirely mixed. I hope that modern Ugandans have been able to acquire technology and feminism in the most helpful ways, and still retain some of their traditions, in particular the very strong sense of family and kinship that shine through the novel.
I’m glad I read it, but don’t suppose I’ll read it again. I would recommend it in a guarded kind of way, to anyone wanting to know more about Ugandan culture. I feel it could have done with significant editing to make it more appealing as a novel - but don't take my word for it, as it's very highly rated elsewhere, and has won at least one literary prize.
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