Death of the Author

by Nnedi Okorafor

I read her book the moment she handed me one of the early copies. I don’t know where all that came from, all that drama, empire, clashing, shouting, all that wahala. Somewhere deep in my daughter’s head, I guess. Maybe when you speak to Secret, he can explain it better. He

Nobody is more unaware than an African parent. Every family scene in this book is exactly this

“Patriarchy is so nasty,” she heard Amarachi mutter. “Always acting like their dicks are gods. ‘Head office,’ ugh.” Zelu met her eyes, then she met Tolu’s and Uzo’s. They all hated this traditional bullshit, and they all hated that they couldn’t just scream that they hated it because they were part of it, too. Respect your elders, respect your elders, respect your elders, one of the strongest rules of the culture.

She smelled the spice that always clung to her mother’s skin, Tolu’s sandalwood-scented oil, Amarachi’s jasmine perfume, Bola’s bath soap, Uzo’s baby powder. She felt Chinyere’s long nails pressing her arm gently, keeping her here. She couldn’t fall if she tried.

Beautiful

“You are of him,” Msizi whispered softly into her hair. “You literally can’t be without him.” Another sob racked her body, and Msizi held her tighter. “We are mortal beings. We die. But we live first. And your father left a great legacy.”

Wahhhhhhhh

“Zelu, listen to me. Today is a dark day. A dark, dark day.” He pulled her face closer to his. “When you write your stories, you look into yourself and see into things. Be the writer today. Use that ability. You are the observer and the observed. You are the documentarian and the subject. You are the author and the reader. This is how you create. This is something you know how to do. Now let it be here for you. Do you understand?” She digested his words. After a moment, she felt relief. “Bear witness,” he said.

Love this advice

Sometimes I feel like I’d rather be a fucking robot. No pain. No death. No finality. And no need to fear life. Yeah.” Msizi came up behind her. “Except your robots experience all that, too.” “Heh. True.”

Lol

There was a deep Americanness to Zelu’s way of thinking, how she carried herself, even her spirit. However, her bridge to home was healthy and strong. And

I can relate

“Hey, what are you doing?” Hugo asked. The boy held up his hands. “But robot ma—” “‘Robot ma’?” Zelu sneered. “Seriously? What . . . how much for you to fuck off,” she angrily said.

Lmboooo this really pissed her off

Talking to you about it now, Seth, I wish I could sit with her and ask her more about it in this way.

Wtf happened to my girl!!

The driver, who seemed so level-headed when they met, became a madman on the road. Not that the roads here were all that busy. But he had a need for speed, and no concerns about rolling over or wildly swerving around potholes. He wove recklessly past other drivers and honked at just about everyone. The other two SUVs drove in front of and behind them, keeping pace.

Relatable! Remember My parents car in Lagos the way i screamed when i thought a driver was about to flip them over 😩😩

The egg stew was hot and spicy with curry, thyme, and chili peppers, and her auntie had added shrimp and fish to it. It was served over boiled yam and sweet, tangy fried plantain. Zelu nearly cried at the sight. It wasn’t that she was terribly hungry, but because this was what she and her siblings remembered most about their auntie. Egg stew. It was a common dish in Nigeria, but their mother never made it, and the only times they’d had it were here at their auntie’s place. And. It. Was. Delicious. Zelu and her siblings had talked and talked about it back home. For decades. To the point where it had developed a nearly mythical status among them.

Food is a main character in this book

She’d remember it because, for the first time in her life, she’d done something she didn’t want to do because she loved the person who wanted to do it and it felt 100 percent right. Even when he’d sprung it on her, she hadn’t gotten angry or offended. She hadn’t felt out of control. She’d felt loved, respected, and understood. It was possible.

Awww i love this for my girl

She’d never carry weapons outside the range, but moving about the world knowing that she could not only accurately shoot a rifle but also break it apart, clean it, and put it back together fairly quickly gave her a nice ego boost. It made her feel dangerous even while people looked at her and saw weakness.

This is kind of dope

Yes, instead of focusing our time and energy on stopping the Trippers from destroying the Earth, automation was fighting itself. For a while, I felt great frustration about this; no one would listen to my concerns. Then I decided to shift gears and focus on the problem right in front of me. It was all I could do.

RELATABLE!!!!!!!!

In so many ways, we were one. But the fact was, Ghosts and Humes couldn’t truly coexist. The only end to this war would come when one side won or they’d both destroy each other. And whichever it came to, the Trippers would then finish us all off. Still,

What does this mirror for Zelu’s life?

She rarely went on social media these days because the harassment was so annoying. She could post a random quote, a response to something in the news, a photo of a dolphin, even a passive-aggressive comment about the Rusted Robots film, and eighty percent of the responses would be along the lines of “We don’t care about anything you say. Shut up and give us book two.”

This must be how rihanna felt lmboo

Zelu wasn’t going to respond to him. But he didn’t bother waiting for her response, calling her a half hour later. Despite the more rational part of her, which knew this would only lead to trouble, her incessant

Zelu is so interesting. She’s going to take the biggest risk every time but then punish herself with regret

“Do you love me?” she asked. She held her breath. She’d never asked him to say it, hadn’t thought she even wanted him to. But in case something did happen to her up there, she at least felt it was important to understand what she was leaving behind. He didn’t hesitate. “More than anyone in this galaxy.” Eyes open, she took in all she felt: Fear. Surprise. Hope. Fear. Suspicion. Worry. Wonder. Fear. Her fault. She wanted to whimper.

I wish this was enough for her

“What makes you think something so unprecedented is going to behave according to the only laws you know? How egocentric. How human.”

Clock that tea!

On TV was an old tennis match between Serena Williams and some poor victim who had no chance.

Lmboo

“Where’d you get all these dramatic stories from?” her mom asked. “Mom, look at how you grew up,” Zelu said, chuckling. Her mother had been raised in a polygamous Yoruba family who lived in a palace. Entitlement, backbiting, history, pride, competition, spirits, ghosts, and ambition were all the norm. Zelu had listened closely to her mother’s many stories about her upbringing and her father’s very different perspective on it and absorbed even more during her own visits.

Mmmhmmm

Zelu was shaking now. She was trying to contain it all—the hope and the despair, the dance of success, and the need to flee the planet, if only for a while. Sitting down had been a good move. “I’m . . . not trying to die. I didn’t want to die in Nigeria; I wanted to see Dad’s grave and reconnect with the land, home! It was a risk, but, well, I survived, didn’t I? I made sure of it! Now I have a chance to go to space. Don’t you want me to push farther? I can, so shouldn’t I?” Zelu used her shirt to wipe her wet face. “Come on, Mom.” Her mother glared at her, her eyes moistening, too. Now it was her turn to sit down. She sat beside Zelu and sighed. Then her face softened. “Your father would have gone, too.”

Whewwww i really get both sides!

Chinyere stood up and shook her head. “You win. I can’t be mad at you anymore. I . . .” She looked right at Zelu. “I don’t understand you. I don’t know what you are. But . . . you’re fucking amazing.” It was like a dam broke; they all started talking at the same time. “Yeah, this is amazing,” Tolu said. “I’m scared, though!” Uzo added. “I’m not even going to Google the details.” “Don’t,” Bola said. “It’s wild! I cannot believe you’re going to be one of the passengers! When this news drops at work, no one will leave me alone!” “First one in the family to leave the planet. Can’t wait to tell that to our uncles,” Chinyere said.

Awwwwwww im cryingggg omg!! Im so happy for her she was so scared. Plz i hope this isnt how she diesss

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said out loud. Maybe that’s why the jollof rice and plantain tasted like Technicolor ambrosia.

WAITTT!!

Three weeks later, only a few days before the launch, she took another test. This one was positive. She was forty years old and pregnant. The feeling, though she’d never felt it before, was unmistakable. Some things you just know. She told no one. Not even Msizi. No one was going to keep her from going to space.

Zelu!!! Girl crazy asf

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” But it didn’t stop her from dwelling on the dark fantasy of never returning to Earth. Maybe it was the pregnancy rewiring her brain, but the idea didn’t sadden her. It excited her.

Ok this is selfish to me

Narrative is one of the key ways automation defines the world. We Humes have always been clear about this fact. Stories are what holds all things together. They make things matter, they make all things be, exist. Our

She didn’t mull, though. She didn’t consider any of the consequences they had so carefully explained. Was it selfish? Probably. Would she be judged when the world found out? Certainly. But it was done. Another step away from humanity, even as her child formed in her belly.

Ok she lost me!!! Crrazy girl

Deep politics, histories, biases, hatred, tested love, wants and needs. Zelu was part of several tribes—black, disabled, American, Yoruba, Igbo—but she also belonged to none.