“Stay With Me”, by Ayòbámi Adébáyò
‘There are things even love can’t do…if the burden is too much and stays too long, even love bends, cracks, comes close to breaking, and sometimes does break. But when it’s in a thousand pieces around your feet, that doesn’t mean it’s no longer love…’
SYNOPIS
Stay With Me is the debut novel from Nigerian writer Ayòbámi Adébáyò. Published in 2017 and long-listed for the Women’s Prize for Fiction of the same year, it tells the story of Yejide and Akin; a young, married Nigerian couple who are hoping for a child. In fact, their whole family is impatiently waiting for purpose to grow into Yejide and Akin’s fruitless marriage by means of Yejide’s womb. They try everything: pilgrimages, The Mountain of Jaw-Dropping Miracles, even a second wife, to try and conceive – but nothing works. So when waiting becomes impatient, when pride and pressure take the helm, it is husband Akin’s desperate solution that begins to slowly expose the splintered foundations of this couple’s union…
Stay With Me is a story of broken and blended families, laced in all their fragility against the backdrop of a politically tumultuous Nigeria in the 1980s; It is a story that is full of longing and loss that explores how far love gives way to pain and pride before the bough breaks and the cradle quite literally falls.
CHARACTERS
The plot is what all good dramas are made of: piping hot tea that keeps you coming back for more! And like all good dramas, I was never totally polarized when it came to characters. My sympathies spread all over the pages: Was Yejide a good wife, a bad wife, or simply a tired wife? With the many health complications her children seemed to face, was it worth us hoping for the young lives of Olamide, Sesan or Rotimi? Dotun is introduced as a repulsive guy on the forefront, but at the same time, something in me felt for him too. Even the fact that Yejide calls Akin’s helicopter mother, Moomi (mother), rages a conflict in her which spills over to the readers. Do we respect or repulse this pregnancy-obsessed woman? And Akin. Sigh..Akin. If the destructive masculine ego ever had a face, it would be his.
That being said, there are no clear heroes or villains in this novel, just characters who reflect the complexity of human relationships under strain. Adébáyò’s mastery of character development is a stand-out feature of the book – one which makes it well worth the emotional turmoil.
PLOT
I’d never considered Stay With Me to be a gothic novel until I listened to Ayòbámi Adébáyò’s feature on the Mostly Lit podcast. Elements of magical realism and Nigerian superstition are found in the novel which seem somehow to merge into ‘real life’ seamlessly. Adébáyò is really good at making the reader accept possibilities they would otherwise ridicule. Take the Mountain of Jaw-Dropping Miracles for example, one of Yedije’s desperate resorts to conceive. On any other day, I would have rolled my eyes and second guessed any product of this miracle mountain. But for some reason, when Yejide went up there and performed the most unconventional conception Adebayo ritual, I was set- she was coming down pregnant. I think this speaks of the skill of Adébáyò’s, who is so able to make you empathise with the characters to the point you begin to suspend your own disbelief and rationality for their sake.
Alongside that, I really enjoyed the exploration into mental health through Yejide’s phantom pregnancy. We meet Yejide as an intelligent, driven, principled character, placing her beyond the bounds of insanity. So when her stomach beings to expand despite the doctors being unable to place a child, we rally around her, holding onto hope for a baby until we, like Yejide, are forced to face the truth. I think these scenes open up important questions about how the seemingly innocuous pressures to prove one’s femininity can become a burden to even the strongest women. Despite being set in a country I know little of, the universal challenges of femininity brought forth by Adébáyò were something familiar and unifying.
FINAL THOUGHTS
In the end, Yejide does get her children, and whilst this may seem like a spoiler, even her arrival at this finishing line is just the beginning of another emotional marathon. This novel is really great for plot twists that had me slamming the book down in the spirit of ‘I don’t believe it! But we must continue’, which is why I’d highly recommend it if you’re new to the rich tradition of Nigerian literature. If you enjoy fast-paced writing, unpredictable plots and family dramas, you’ll really enjoy this book. Funny and at times heart-wrenching, it’s an unpretentious read which is both intellectually and emotionally challenging. I particularly enjoyed delving into a story set outside the confines of Eurocentric literature: the political backdrop of the novel provides an educational insight into Nigerian history which perfectly accompanies the exposure to Nigerian cultural that is inevitable through the reading of this book. Its short chapters (this is the kind of book you can lunge into and furrow half-way through without even realising), and bittersweet conclusion will have you ending the book hopeful. Overall, this novel has done exactly what its title suggests, making it a worthy pick-up for adventurous readers in 2020.