Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta

In an understated author’s note sat quietly on a back page between the novel’s epilogue and its acknowledgements, Chinelo Okparanta states her ambition that Under the Udala Trees might help 'to give Nigeria’s marginalised LGBTQ citizens a more powerful voice, and a place in our nation’s history.'

One of the most impressive things about the novel is that it effectively conveys the horror of growing up as Ijeoma does – queer in the world’s second most religious nation – without demonising her oppressors completely. The mother who tries to 'cure' her homosexuality with rigorous Bible study unquestionably loves her daughter. She is a bigot but she isn’t evil, just hardwired with values rooted more in dogma than humanity.

At this point Okparanta’s literary skill doesn’t quite match her ambition: her writing often feels too self-consciously pretty, becoming prosaic while reaching for poetic, and there is a lack of interiority to Ijeoma which makes her life-risking romances difficult to fully connect with. At a certain point, she feels like an empty avatar going through the too-familiar tragedy of coming of age in the midst of intolerance, more than a fully realised individual.

It’s an imperfect telling of an important tale.