Chi. The first time I came across the word was in Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart. Ever since I’ve been fascinated by it. The whole concept of a personal spirit is so validating. It’s comforting to know (or think) that you’re not alone, that somewhere in this crazed world, a part of you – which has done this life business many times before – is out there doing the most for you. It gives a way to try to make sense of life as it happens. This is what makes Chigozie Obioma’s sophomore novel so interesting. He takes a break from the conventional narratives and takes the reader on an unfamiliar but frightfully interesting journey. The Chi of the protagonist is the narrator of this story. Eerie. Bold. Detailed. Wise. The Chi acts its age.
In An Orchestra of Minorities, Chinonso is a poor, uneducated poultry farmer in Umuahia. Fate did what it does best and he falls in love with Ndali, beautiful, educated, and who is also from money. Chinonso, in an attempt to prove himself to a woman who’s clearly out of his league and show himself worthy to her snobbish family, sacrifices everything and chooses hell and highwater. This book is a story of love. But the love here is an already tired brocade undergoing another round of washing, this time with bleach.
Should a man do all he can and give all he has to be worthy love? Or should he keep his love in his bosom until he finds a woman that won’t cause his ego to go limp? If he chooses the former, will he be considered driven or a longthroat? And will the latter, if it be the man’s choice, be seen as contentment or lackadaisical? These are the questions that will keep popping up throughout this book.
At the end of the story, you’re reminded that you can’t outrun fate. Some things are not just yours, however hard you may try. The harder you chase, the faster it eludes you. If lucky, that will be all there’s to it. But if misfortune fancies dwell, you become Chinonso.
credit: osamudiamen ekhator
The Lit 