Adua

In 2013, Somali, Adusa, former actress, who lived in Rome, discovered the deed to Labo Dhegax—two stones, home of her deceased father, Mohamed Ali Zoppe, in Magalo, Somalia. She had been estranged from her father at an early age, and at seventeen, in the 1970s, she ran away to Italy with the help of Italian B-movie producers. Adua married a much younger Somali, a refugee; however, she conversed with and confided in her miniature, marble elephant.In 1934, Adua’s father, known as Zoppe, was master of a half dozen languages, and worked in Rome as a translator for an Italian contractor. Zoppe attempted to break up a fight between two co-workers who argued over the texture of his curly hair. Instead of the employees being jailed, the police convicted Zoppe of a crime. He was released not to his employer, but to Count Anselme, who considered Zoppe his slave and translator when he returned to Africa.Years later, Zoppe saw a movie that starred Adua. He was taken aback at how the movie producers exploited his daughter. He realized she too had suffered exploitation at the hands of people who had once colonized their country before the Second World War.Unfortunately, Zoppe and Adua never reunited; however, I believe if Adua had gave in, they would have bridged the gap of alienation before his death. Zoppe wasn’t always kind in his approach toward Adua; sometimes he was unfairly or destructively critical. Adua never forgave him.The chapters move back and forth over time, with Adusa in first person point of view, and her father, Zoppe, in third person point of view. In addition, the book briefly describes the current refugee crisis. The author wrote backstories on each character. Noting timelines with each chapter’s character would have been helpful, as sometimes the chronological storyline appeared unclear.I believe Adua suffered and had not released her past, which is often difficult to do, nor did she know how to nourish her happiness. Her younger husband didn’t offer much friendship, so she had the illusion of companionship with an inanimate object. I honestly enjoyed reading Zoppe’s point of view more than Adua’s; his character had more depth.Historically, I was surprised Ethiopia wasn’t the only country colonized by Italy. Eritrea and Somalia suffered under colonization in the late 1800s, which lasted until the 1940s and 1950s. The author suggests books concerning East Africa’s former colonization. In addition, she provides a glossary in the back of the book.I gave this book 3.5 stars.

An excellent translation of an important novel, exploring racism and migration and the legacy of Italian colonialism. Well worth a read!

3.5 Stars, RoundedI wasn’t wholly sure what to expect from this story: from the blurb it is clearly a tale of a woman who emigrated from Somalia and a difficult life, only to find more and different challenges in her new city of Rome. Opening with an uncomfortable start, the protagonist, Adua, is bearing up under a series of berating commentary which harken back to her own difficulties with her relationship with her father. Her choice to leave Somalia was based partly in this relationship, and partly to follow her dreams of being an actress, not a possibility in the post-colonial governmental regime. For forty years she has been struggling against those who would seek to oppress or deny her opportunity, some based in her difference, others in the legacy of issues surrounding the us v them debates when discussing refugees and immigrants, and when you add in the overwhelming attitudes about Africa and the lack of potential therein, there is plenty of food for plot here.And while Adua’s story is harrowing and sad, one takes heart in the fact that she continues on: perhaps because there are no other choices, perhaps just a testament to the strength of her own character and dreams, but she continues. Day after day as dreams become further from reach as doors close and the queue of those willing to accept her in positions that will exploit her skills and person while still managing to set limitations on her forward progress.What emerges is an interesting, if not wholly flushed out character: notable for her story, but much of it felt “done” to her, without any real reasons for her to continue. If I were to find the cause for that – I would point to the many threads and elements brought into the plot: ambitious elements that did provide some history, background and information needed to understand some of what she faced, but so many pieces and time spent to that, without giving a clear or direct correlation to the characters, or even providing dialogue that offered some sort of contrast between what is and what should be helped to bog the story down, at least where developing a connection to Adua was concerned. It’s not difficult to feel sorry for her struggles, or wonder why things couldn’t have been different, but it was as if that emotion wasn’t tied to her as a person, but to the populations in transition as a whole, those hoping for new and better lives in countries far from their homes and all that is familiar.Not a bad read by any sense of the word, and the history presented brought me a whole new perspective with discoveries about the colonial ambitions of yet another European nation, as well as the fallout when colonial powers leave and countries self-rule. Another book that highlights the variety of perspectives, viewpoints and lesser-known histories of the world we inhabit: some with legacies that we are still battling now to varying degrees of success.I received an eArc copy of the title from the publisher via Edelweiss for purpose of honest review. I was not compensated for this review: all conclusions are my own responsibility.