The Girl With the Louding Voice by Abi Daré is a book I probably wouldn’t have picked out in a shop, as I’m a little tired of all the novels with titles that begin “The Girl…”, particularly as most of them are about grown women. But when a friend offered to lend me this Nigerian novel, I looked it up and was intrigued. I’m glad I gave it a chance.

For one thing, the girl of the title, Adunni, really is a girl. Which is especially key as her story begins with her being married off aged 14 because her father needs the money from her dowry to keep paying rent. She is suddenly the third wife of a middle-aged man, who demands total obedience and turns a blind eye when his first wife beats Adunni. She is expected to be silent, meek and subservient but it is not in Adunni’s character to fade into the background. Her curiosity and boldness repeatedly bring her trouble.

All Adunni wanted in life was to stay in school and become a teacher. She had no interest in marriage, unlike many of her friends. So she struggles to find any sympathy when she complains of her situation on the rare occasions she can get out of her new home. She’s desperate to educate herself and reads everything she can get hold of.

“My eyes was just watching myself, watching as the picture of schooling that I put on top a table in my heart was falling to the floor and scattering into small, small pieces.”

To reflect her incomplete education, the novel is written, first person, in slightly broken English. Adunni’s first language is Yoruba but in Nigeria, English is the language of the elite, of opportunity. At first I worried this had a slightly mocking effect on Adunni, but I grew to like the unique way she has of forming sentences. As Adunni educates herself, the language subtly becomes smoother.

About halfway through the book, Adunni finds a copy of The Book of Nigeria Facts, and from then on each chapter opens with one of the facts she has read and memorized. It’s a neat way to both give the reader social and historical context, and show Adunni learning about her own country.

Adunni’s story is a tough one. Marriage – which involves her frequent rape – is just the first awful experience she must endure in the year of her life covered by the novel. So many terrible things happen, this might have been a miserable read in other hands. But Daré keeps a careful balance, with Adunni encountering good people as well as bad at every step. Adunni is funny, daring and has a lot of heart. Though she doesn’t always hold much hope for her future, Daré makes sure that readers can see that there is some hope.

“We drive home like dead bodies in a coffin. Nobody is talking. Or moving. The car feels too small, coffin-size, the cold air from the air-con so dry, my lips feel like fish scales. We are breathing though…We are saying many things with our breathing.”

The “louding voice” of the title, by the way, is Adunni’s own description of her desire to both speak up for herself and enable other girls to do the same. In her slightly clumsy way it perfectly articulates her courage and ambition. And the novel as a whole is a powerful clarion call for the education of women, as it so clearly depicts the precarious situation of women whose education is cut short.

First published 2020 by Sceptre.

Source: borrowed from a friend.