Annalisa Whitfield

Creative Piece inspired by Purple Hibiscus The Following Literary exercise consists of-: An Extract from Purple Hibiscus A Creative Piece based on the extract and; Commentary on the purpose of the Creative Piece Extract- Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie- Pg.48-51 “Bye Papa.” I was watching him walk down the path bordered by flowerless green bushes when the assembly bell rang    Assembly was raucous, and Mother Lucy had to say, “ Now, girls, may we have silence!” a few times. I stood in the front of the line as always, because the back was for girls who belonged to cliques, girls who giggled and whispered to one another, shielded from the teachers. The teachers stood on a podium, tall statues in their white-and-blue habits. After we sang a welcoming song from the Catholic Hymnal, Mother Lucy read Matthew chapter five up to verse eleven, and then we sang the national anthem. Singing the national anthem was relatively new at Daughters of the Immaculate Heart. It had started last year, because some parents were concerned that their children did not know the national anthem or the pledge. I watched the sisters as we sang. Only the Nigerian Reverend Sisters sang, teeth flashing against their dark skins. The white Reverend Sisters stood with arms folded, or lightly touching the glass rosary beads that dangled at their waists, carefully watching to see that every student’s lips moved. Afterward, Mother Lucy narrowed her eyes behind her thick lenses and scanned the lines. She always picked one student to start the pledge before the others joined in.    “Kambili Achike, please start the pledge,” she said.     Mother Lucy had never chosen me before. I opened my mouth, but the words would not come out.        “Kambili Achike?” Mother Lucy and the rest of the school had turned to stare at me.    I cleared my throat, willed the words to come. I knew them, thought them. But they would not come. The sweat was warm and wet under my arms.  “Kambili?”    Finally, stuttering, I said, “I pledge to Nigeria, my country / To be faithful, loyal, and honest…”    The rest of the school joined in, and while I mouthed along, I tried to slow my breathing. After assembly, we filed to our classrooms. My class went through the routine of settling down, scraping chairs, dusting desks, copying the new term timetable written on the board.    “How was your holiday, Kambili?” Ezinne leaned over and asked.    “Fine”    “Did you travel abroad?”    “No,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say, but I wanted Ezinne to know that I appreciated that she was always nice to me even though I was awkward and tongue tied. I wanted to say thank you for not laughing at me and calling me a “back-yard snob” the way the rest of the girls did, but the words that came out were, “Did you travel?”    Ezinne laughed. “Me? O di egwu. It’s people like you and Gabriella and Chinwe who travel, people with rich parents.  I just went to the village to visit my grandmother.”    “Oh,” I said.    “Why did your father come this morning?”    “I...I…” I stopped to take a breath because I knew I would stutter even more if I didn’t.    “He wanted to see my class.”    “You look a lot like him, I mean, you’re not big, but the features and the complexion are the same,” Ezinne said.    “Yes.”    “I heard Chinwe took the first position from you last term. Abi?”    “Yes.”    “I’m sure your parents didn’t mind. Ah! Ah! You have been coming first since we started class one. Chinwe said her father took her to London.    “Oh.”    “I came fifth and it was an improvement for me because I came eight the term before. You know, our class is very competitive. I used to always come first in my primary school.”    Chinwe Jideze came over to Ezinne’s table then. She had a high birdlike voice. “I want to remain class prefect this term, Ezi Butterfly, so make sure you vote for me,” Chinwe said. Her school skirt was tight at the waist, dividing her body into two round halves like the number 8.    “Of course,” Ezinne said.    I was not surprised when Chinwe walked past me to the girl at the next desk and repeated herself, only with a different nickname that she had thought up. Chinwe had never spoken to me, not even when we were placed in the same agricultural science group to collect weeds for an album. The girls flocked around her desk during short break, their laughter ringing out often. Their hairstyles were usually exact copies of hers -black, thread covered sticks if Chinwe wore shuku that week. Chinwe walked as if there were a hot object underfoot, raising each leg almost as soon as her other foot touched the floor. During long break, she bounced in front of a group of girls as they went to the tuck shop to buy biscuits and coke. According to Ezinne, Chinwe paid for everyone’s soft drinks. I usually spent long break reading in the library.    “Chinwe just wants you to talk to her first,” Ezinne whispered. “You know, she started calling you backyard snob because you don’t talk to anybody. She said just because your father owns a newspaper and all those factories does not mean you have to feel too big, because her father is rich, too.”    “I don’t feel too big.”    “Like today, at assembly, she said you were feeling too big, that was why you didn’t start the pledge the first time Mother Lucy called you.”    “I didn’t hear the first time Mother Lucy called me.”    “I’m not saying you feel too big, I am saying that is what Chinwe and most of the girls think. Maybe you should try and talk to her. Maybe after school you should stop running off like that and walk with us to the gate. Why do you always run, anyway?”    “I just like running,” I said, and wondered if I would count that as a lie when I made confession next Saturday, if I would add to the lie about not having heard Mother Lucy the first time. Kevin always had the Peugeot 505 parked at the school gates right after the bells rang. Kevin had many other chores to do for Papa and I was not allowed to keep him waiting, so I always dashed out of my class. Dashed, as though I were running the 200-meters race at the interhouse sports competition. Once, Kevin told Papa I took a few minutes longer, and Papa slapped my left parallel marks on my face and ringing in my ears for days.    “Why?” Ezinne asked. “If you stay and talk to people, maybe it will make them know that you are really not a snob.”    “I just like running,” I said again.              Creative Piece      The assembly bell rang marking the start of yet another school day at Daughters of the Immaculate Heart. Every morning my father would drop me off at the school gates where the hawker girls were outside selling all manner of treats in their ragged clothes. Father didn’t like me buying from them but every now and again, after I was sure he had driven off, I would buy a few sweets. I never ate them though, just gave them to the younger girls that ran up to the gate to meet me. As assembly began, Mother Lucy had to say, “Now, girls, may we have silence!” The Assembly hall was noisy and honestly, my friends and I were no help in lessening the noise. I had been telling Amarachi, Chidimma, Nkechi, Chinasa and the rest of the girls about my trip to London. Many of the girls in school didn’t have enough money to travel like my family and so they were always curious about what was outside of Nigeria and I was always glad to bring them back as much information as possible, even pictures sometimes when I could. We sang a welcoming song from the Catholic Hymnal then Mother Lucy read Matthew chapter five up to verse eleven, and then we sang the national anthem. “Kambili Achike, please start the pledge,” Mother Lucy said, to which I immediately rolled my eyes. Kambili Achike was the daughter of Eugene Achike, a very important man in the community, she also was the single most irritating person I’ve ever known. The girl was downright arrogant. Ever since I’ve known her she hadn’t so much as breath in my direction, or anyone else’s for that matter. We weren’t “good enough” to be spoken to apparently. Every afternoon she’d literally run off to the black Peugeot that came after school to pick her up just so she wouldn’t risk having to talk to the rest of us. “Kambili Achike?” asked Mother Lucy. Of course, she wasn’t answering. She thinks that she doesn’t need to answer to anyone, not even Mother Lucy. I could see her head from where I stood, I was in the back with my friends while she was in the front, as usual. I figured she must think she’s too important to have anyone stand in front of her too. “She feels too big, that’s why she won’t say the pledge,” I whispered to my friends, to which they all nodded. All except for Ezinne. Ezinne was the only girl that ever spoke to Kambili. Ezinne wasn’t even rich like me and Kambili, she was a poor girl from a small village but for whatever reason, she was the only one the Achike girl ever permitted to talk to her. “Kambili?” she repeated. “I pledge to Nigeria, my country / To be faithful, loyal, and honest…” the backyard snob finally answered, probably fearing she would get into trouble, I bet Papa Eugene wouldn’t like that. I was the one who had christened her with the name “backyard snob”, a name which nearly the entire school referred to her now and I was proud. I was proud because even if I could wound her enormous pride in that small way it was justice. She didn’t deserve our friendship and I made sure she knew that. After assembly, we filed into our classrooms and me and the girls started talking about the class elections. We had elections every term for class prefect, a title that I had been holding for at least the past three terms and I was determined to win again this year but that would be no big task. The girls always voted for me because I was nice to everyone in school or at least I tried to be. “You should start going around reminding everyone to vote for you, the elections are not that far away,” Chinasa told me. “Don’t worry she won’t lose anyway.” Amarachi laughed. “We can never be too sure of ourselves.” I reminded her although I knew she was telling the truth. A few tables down Ezinne was talking to the backyard snob and naturally, the snob looked uninterested. “I don’t know why she bothers trying to talk to her,” I said disgustedly. It didn’t take the girls long to realize who I was talking about. “She probably isn’t listening anyway,” Uzo said. “She’s probably dreaming of running Ezinne over with that fancy car of hers right now.” Nkechi laughed and eventually we all erupted into laughter. “Don’t be so evil,” I said, stifling my laughter. “I wonder who the backyard snob is voting for, probably you Chinwe.” Chidimma teased me. “I don’t care anyway,” I told her, even though it really did bother me a little. At that moment I decided it was time for campaigning. I went over to Ezinne’s table, “I want to remain class prefect this term, Ezi-Butterfly, so make sure you vote for me,”. “Of course,” Ezinne replied. I deliberately walked past Kambili to the girl sitting at the next desk and repeated myself using a different nickname. I could hear my friends laughing from across the classroom and had to resist laughing myself. Kambili seemed not to care at all but I knew she must, she had to. She wasn’t a stupid girl so I knew she had figured it out, in fact, I thought I was cursed to come second to her for the rest of my life until the last term when I finally beat her for the first position in best grades in school. I went along confidently campaigning after I reminded myself of this fact. During the long break, I went to the tuck shop to buy biscuits and coke for myself and the girls while, of course, the backyard snob stayed well away from us in the library. When it came time for school to be dismissed she ran to the car waiting for her at the gates as usual. The little daughter of Ekwensu ran fast. Shortly after my own father came to pick me up in a car much more expensive than hers I might add. What made her think she was just so special? That she was too big to even speak to the rest of us? Because her father owns a newspaper? And all those dumb factories? My father is rich too, but you wouldn't see me acting like I am bigger than other people. Needless to say, her title of “backyard snob” wasn’t going away anytime soon.                 Commentary           The creative piece entails an extract from "Purple Hibiscus" detailing Kambili’s school life, (pages 48-51) in the section entitled "SPEAKING WITH OUR SPIRITS Before Palm Sunday." In this piece the narrative shifts. The point of view is taken from Kambili’s perspective in the novel and given to Chinwe Yidize, presented as a "rival" of Kambili.     Chinwe Yidize treats Kambili without much sympathy for a large portion of the novel.Their "rivalry of sorts" is rooted in Chinwe's academic feat over "top student" Kambili. It is a "rivalry of sorts" because while they appear to be in competition, their goals, motivations and feelings towards one another greatly differ. A rivalry is a competition for the same objective or superiority in the same field. Their objective is that they want to be top students but for different reasons. Chinwe’s motivations are centred heavily on Kambili while Kambili’s are on her father. She does not want to beat Chinwe as much as she wants to please her father, she appears to bear no ill will towards Chinwe, who interprets this differently.      By this point our sympathies lie with Kambili so we are inclined to view Chinwe in a negative light but for the purpose of this creative piece I refrained from doing so. It occurred to me that to treat with Chinwe’s character in this way would be to enact the same sort of harsh judgement and criticism she unleashes on Kambili which is much more dangerous than it appears at first instance.      Keeping an impartial view of Chinwe, note first that she is little more than a child. Children are passionate and not the most rational or fair-minded. Also, they have known each other since they were young. Her perceptions of Kambili stem from a childish place and festered over time. Lastly, unlike the reader, Chinwe does not know about Kambili’s circumstances. What she does know is that this girl, whom she has known since childhood, has never spoken to anyone except Ezinne, gets the best grades in the school and is rich because of her very important father. At her age many of us would make the same assumptions about Kambili that she does. She believes Kambili is arrogant and holds her peers in contempt. Chinwe takes her silence as a refusal to acknowledge her classmates as equals.     Note also her behavior towards her peers. Chinwe is class prefect and has a great influence over her classmates. Chinwe is well liked and popular among her schoolmates. The reason being Chinwe interacts with her peers kindly and as though they were on the same level as her despite the fact that she is coming from a privileged background like Kambili. Chinwe appears to be passionate about levelling out the playing field between herself and her peers. This is something very admirable in her character that can be misconstrued. Kambili appears not to feel this way about her peers and this inspires the disdain which Chinwe has for Kambili.      It would not be absurd to come to the conclusion that maybe Chinwe is not as nice and humble as her peers would like to believe. Perhaps, she is only kind to them to make it easier to manipulate them. Perhaps, she does not like Kambili because she is the only one that hasn’t fallen for her charms. However, this does not seem to be the case as later on in the novel when Kambili finds herself in the hospital as a result of her father’s abuse, Chinwe is very openly showing her kindness, not for the spectacle of gaining her friends' favor but as a sort of apology to Kambili for treating her unkindly.      Chinwe from a young schoolgirl's perspective is taking what little information she knows about Kambili and attempting to make a complete analysis of her. She does this with great bias and a childish inclination. It is in this fashion that I did not wish to deal with this character because she is a complete person and to look at her faults and critique her too harshly on them would reinforce the same sort of dangerous behavior she employs. The reason it is dangerous is because of Kambili’s voicelessness and the possible negative repercussions of both of their behaviors for Kambili.     Kambili is a broken individual. As a result of the abuse she suffers from her father and her isolation at home, she does not know how to express herself out of fear, she is always anxious and expecting the worst of people and also expecting people to see the worst in her. She has grown up in a home full of judgment, critique, fear, disconnection and isolation. Silence in cases of abuse is extremely dangerous because to fix a problem one must make known that there is a problem. She is a helpless child in this situation who can turn to no one for help or solace. Ezinne does nothing more than lend her a kind ear and kind words and Kambili could not be more grateful. Ezinne, however, seems to be blind to the fact that something sinister is occurring in Kambili’s life and contents herself in assuming Kambili is just shy. She cannot be blamed as it is a fair assumption for a young girl to make.     Chinwe’s attitude towards Kambili is negative so the attitude of the girls follow suit, having a negative influence on Kambili’s life, one that a girl suffering from abuse does not need. If the influence was positive this may well have been an entirely different novel altogether. What is so dangerous about this situation is that the girls at school, especially Chinwe, are hurting Kambili even more than they realize. What would have happened to Kambili if she never went to stay at Aunty Ifeoma’s, developed a relationship with her cousins, got to be an ordinary child and spend more time with her brother? If she never met Father Amadi? Kambili would have split her time between the unhealthy environment of home and the unhealthy environment of school until it caused her to break.     The theme of "Appearance vs. Reality" is runs throughout the novel "Purple Hibiscus" but its effects and implications are tremendous in that it shows how this horrid reality is playing itself out for Kambili, her brother and her mother Beatrice and no one is there to help. No one is there to help because they make assumption about this rich, devout family and assume that everything is all well and fine. All the while ignoring Kambili’s voicelessness, Jaja’s stoic behavior, their mother’s physical signs of abuse. This is why it is so dangerous. Much of the tragedies that ensue throughout the novel’s progression could have been circumvented if Kambili’s schoolmates, teachers, priests, church members, or the like, had bothered to pay more attention.      That being said, it is quite easy to find fault with these people without considering how easy it was for them to be blind to the family’s actual state. This is also why I chose Chinwe for this creative piece and not Ezinne. Chinwe provides us with a view from the other side of this equation. Through her eyes we begin to see why she views Kambili the way she does and it makes sense. Comparing it to Kambili’s narrative and situation we see the perils of this kind of interaction or rather lack thereof. What makes it even more striking is that many people would very likely have made the same judgements about Kambili had we not already been privy to the goings-on of her private life.     There are many common sayings about judging others but rarely do we understand their importance. Through its usage of the "Appearance vs Reality" theme Purple Hibiscus allows us to see the possible implications of this kind of behavior in astonishing form. The basis for much of Kambili’s harsh criticism by her schoolmates and her cousin Amaka is that because she is wealthy she must: 1. Have no problems and 2. Be a horrible person. These are known assumptions made about the wealthy and something Chinwe herself tries extremely hard to disprove.         In shifting the narrative from that of Kambili to that of Chinwe's we get a chance to explore Kambili from a different vantage point, explore the character of Chinwe and realize the social implications of the scenario playing out between these two girls. In a sense, Chinwe Yidize, a character subject to much harsh criticism by the reader upon first glance, is us. “When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself.”- Dr. Wayne Dyer.