Half of a Yellow Sun

Half of a Yellow Sun, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, was my fourth book- and the most stunning. The title refers to the flag of Biafra- This was set in Nigeria, but really in Biafra, a country in southeastern Nigeria. Biafra was a short-lived republic, but this novel beautifully shows the strong intensity that was a part of this nation's short lifetime.

Half of a Yellow Sun had a glorious mix of people- 5 main characters, but a whole host of additional ones who added an incredible depth and diversity to the story. It was about so many things more than the history of Biafra, which I found quite interesting, and I will try to give a little bit of my thoughts on the various storylines without giving too much away for those who want to read this- something I highly suggest you do.

The most stirring was the great number of deaths and the horrible way many of those came about. This novel was graphic, the kind of thing that you find yourself thinking about and shuddering, unable to comprehend the bitterness and hatred that would drive anyone to do something like that.

On a kinder note, I found the story of Olanna and Kainene, twin sisters raised in Nigeria, beautiful. They had grown apart over the years, twisted away from each other because of certain events as well as the simple passage of time. Throughout the book, though their relationship swung wildly up and down at times, they grew closer again. The war and the horrors of the war and the realities of the war were what helped them get back to such sisterly terms again, but in the end, the war was also what finally tore them apart.

Adichie described the war and all the tragedies that came along with it with the skillful words of a true master of her art. She told of the high-speed intensity of moments of panic so well I felt I was there, of the horrible sights and smells and sounds that I felt it was happening again. Another thing that I found intriguing yet awful was the way that Baby, Olanna's child, was so used to the war going on around her. She would be rushed into a bunker to avoid the bombings and merely play quietly with the crickets. She collected pieces of shrapnel for fun. The other children, too, were made so numb to the war that they continued to play war games with each other. Though most children at some time or other are sure to use sticks and free time to fight pretend battles, it seemed that in the midst of an actual war, they would act differently. These children, as, I am sure, many other children growing up in war zones around the world, didn't think twice about what was happening around them, so much so that they were able to pretend and laugh about the vicious realities that were going on so terribly.

For this book, I have it sitting on the table in front of me, and I have pulled out a few lines that seem apt. So to prevent any potential problems, the following is not owned by me in any way, shape or form :)

On page 361, there is the phrase "a memorial to death." In a way, I think, this was the driving force of this book. I don't know why Adichie wrote this, but to me, it seems that it was a sort of "a memorial to death."

On page 375, there is a poem. I will not write the entire thing here, but a few lines may suffice. The poem is telling in no uncertain terms about the children of Biafra, hungry and emaciated, and of a reporter come to take pictures of them. The last two lines read: "Naked children laughing, as if the man Would not take photos and then leave, alone." This struck me as a call to action. We sit and look through magazines, see commercials, of children and people in need. The reporters go to tell of it, but can they take the children with them? Can they take the suffering away from the sufferers? Maybe they can, maybe they can't. Maybe they do, maybe they don't.

On page 411, there is the line, the title of a poem that one of the characters wrote. It says, "If the sun refuses to rise, we will make it rise." This, too, I found to be a central theme- even if nothing is working for you, even if you don't even have light to struggle by, you can find a way to get the light and a way to make what you want to happen, what you need to happen, happen.

Overall, more than a story of love, or a story of war, this was a story of hope. Though the Republic of Biafra lost her long fight, the people who fought it nurtured their hope throughout the years. Even when the war was over, their pain and fighting and losses had not been in vain- because they had been in hope. If anything is done in hope, surely the end result, whatever it may be, was not reached in vain.