*Spoilers Ahead.
This is the first book I have read centering on the times of the pandemic. And while as a writer I always knew we had to document these times in our work, I do understand the people who feel like they don’t want to relive the trauma of the worldwide pandemic and the lockdown it triggered. All of this made me a bit sceptical, delving into the book; an audio book accessed from my scribd account.
That said, I liked the book! Rather interesting seeing as I did not like the protagonist.
The Baby is Mine by Oyinkan Braithwaite follows Bambi who, upon getting thrown out by his girlfriend during the pandemic, has to go to his Uncle’s house in lock-down Lagos. He arrives during a blackout, and is surprised to find his Aunty Bidemi sitting in a candlelit room with another woman. They both claim to be the mother of the baby boy, fast asleep in his crib…
Who is lying, and who is telling the truth?!
I liked that the book is short but covers quite a lot, and I like the engaging writing which was a perfect balance of ridiculous overdramatisation and humour that is totally believable only in Nigerian characters. The setting was well described and it brings back memories of old Ikoyi, of growing up in the nineties and having access to old houses in that area – the leftovers of colonial times.
The protagonist through whose eyes we experience the story, is a young man who I assume is in his twenties; someone from a privileged background, he was a perfect combination of everything that is annoying about young men of that age and stature. I feel like this would make other young men find him an easy character to identify with. Bambi would consider himself a good guy, I’m sure, but he was the very picture of privileged, entitled maleness. His casual disregard of women and what they are going through makes him a typical example of when men hide behind the “I’m a man. It’s natural,” excuse to commit whatever they selfishly consider to be within their power. it did not matter to him how his actions affected the women in his life, it mattered not that he lied and cheated and disrespected them – he was a man and he got what he wanted!
This coloured my experience of the book.
A lot of women’s issues came up – a cheating spouse, especially when that cheating is rubbed in the one’s face, what it means to mourn a husband in a society where everybody expects the dead to be regarded as a saint even though we all know that they were not, and the issue of infertility and the pressure and blame places on a woman to have a child. But we don’t get to see these issues fleshed out and explored the way they could have, because we’re looking at it from the lens of this selfish young man who dismisses women as emotional and crazy, and blah, blah.
Of course, it’ll be hypocritical not to point out that men like these, and they are by no means outliers in our society, are enabled by the women. We see that in Bambi’s relationships – with his girlfriend, with his sister and even with his aunt. It is obvious in the way he talks to them and how he treats them. Such men grow up unchallenged in their views and actions, partly because the women allow them to.
Still, the book was a nice read especially if you want a particular brand of drama and flair that is uniquely Nigerian. I would read the author again (maybe) if I’m in a mood for light, Nigerian-flavoured fun!
Muti'ah Badruddeen 