In Hristo Kyuchukov's 2004 picture book My Name was Hussein, main protagonist and Muslim Roma first person narrator Hussein (who looks to be around eight years of age) is shown as living very happily in a Bulgarian village (visiting his grandparents, celebrating Muslim holidays, eating lots of delicious meals both savoury and sweet lovingly prepared by his mother and his grandmother, being part of a joyful extended family). And indeed, the cultural and religious information (and in particular about Ramadan) encountered in My Name Was Hussein is both engagingly and equally so nostalgically penned by Kyuchukov as well as being enlightening for an intended audience of children (from about the age of six to eight or nine) and clearly not meant to be all that familiar with either Islam or with the Roma. But yes and sadly, midway through My Name Was Hussein, pretty much everything is shown by Kyuchukov's featured text (and of course also by the main protagonist's first person narrations, by his voice) as changing for Hussein and his family, and that My Name Was Hussein is thus and clearly a two part story with a very sharp and also textually somewhat uncomfortable caesura. However, considering that the happy life Hussein and his family had been enjoying basically and totally changes and very negatively so almost from one day to the next, said sharp contrast and basically having almost two different and separate texts for My Name Was Hussein majorly and absolutely makes sense for and to me. For in the second part of My Name was Hussein Hussein tells his readers (or his listeners) how the (Bulgarian) army arrives, forbids the villagers to speak their Romani language in public, to go outside at night, to publicly celebrate Muslim holidays like Ramadan, to pray at the mosque (which is closed and shown as being guarded by soldiers), with a policeman destroying the family's identity cards and which are only reissued once Hussein and his family have (under much duress) chosen Christian names.
Also and furthermore, and something I have rather specifically noticed regarding My Name Was Hussein because we are doing a food and food preparation theme in the Fiction Club for the Children's Literature group, while in the first part of My Name Was Hussein, Hussein's text with much loving detail describes the many different and delicious foods prepared by his family (mostly by his mother and by his grandmother) to break the Ramadan fast and that food is clearly shown as a cultural and also a familial bond of joyfulness and connection, well, as soon as the soldiers have arrived, there are no more celebratory descriptions of food associated with Islam and Romani culture being offered and presented by Hristo Kyuchukov in My Name Was Hussein, almost as though in the second part of young Hussein's narration, after the family has been forced to choose Christian names and to in public neither practice their Muslim faith nor speak their Romani tongue, food does no longer have that positive sense of connection and of joy and thus just seems to textually mostly disappear as a topic (except for Hussein briefly lamenting in the second part of My Name Was Hussein that not being allowed to visit his with grandparents also means not being able to consume, to taste his grandmother's delicious puddings).
Now and finally, regarding Allan Eitzen's accompanying illustrations for My Name Was Hussein, his pictures are clean and expressive ink drawings washed with watercolours in shades of grey, but also nicely visually being warmed with and by brighter colours, and with both Hristo Kyuchukov's story and Eitzen's artwork providing a both verbal and visual stark contrast between Hussein's initial contentment within his family and village and the unhappiness that Hussein, his family, and his whole community feel and experience when persecution arrives and takes root. And yes, in the author's note, Kyuchukov explains that when he lived in Bulgaria in the mid-1980s, the Bulgarian government persecuted minorities and insisted that the one million Muslims living there choose Christian names, and that until that time, until the age of twenty-one, the author's name was indeed Hussein, a very good and appreciated author's note for My Name Was Hussein (although for me as an adult, I do kind of wish that there were more expanded specifics on the Bulgarian Roma provided in the author's note, since I do know that not all Roma are Muslim and that Hussein and his family are obviously no longer nomadic or semi-nomadic either). Four stars for My Name Was Hussein and that by using a child's perspective with simple language, short sentences combined with realistically expressive artwork, Hristo Kyuchukov and Allan Eitzen do an excellent job of showing the personal cost of political and ethnically-based oppression in words and pictures that are accessible and while necessarily disturbing also not exaggeratedly and horribly so, and just to point out that if My Name Was Hussein would include supplemental details on the Roma (see above) my rating for My Name was Hussein would definitely be five and not four stars.