Reminiscent of Kambili, the heroine in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s transcendent debut, Purple Hibiscus, Nọsike is full of quiet intelligence and wisdom. He falls and drowns in love with the ‘beautiful, fair girl,’ with a ‘brisk and delicate walking style.’ He is ‘doused by the euphoria of love.’ Chúkwúderà poetically paints a sweeping, dreamlike picture in his portrayal of young love. His writing is delicate and careful, yet firm. Like a lover’s touch, it opens itself up to you. While the novel lacks tension, Chúkwúderà’s measured prose and Nọsike’s mind, bursting with wisdom and grace, sustains interest. Chúkwúderà takes risks that pay off. He artfully merges the narrator’s voice and the authorial. Consider this passage on religion:  

I pondered on how it was that the predestination of God’s death on the cross to redeem his children from their own mistakes was also dependent on these mistakes and weak will…It also troubled me how one soul had to be damned for God to die and save the world. 

Not since Imbolo Mbue’s astonishing debut, Behold the Dreamers, have I read a novel that evokes such complex feelings and emotions the way Loss is an Aftertaste of Memories does (and Chúkwúderà’s novel is not about an immigrant couple). Sometimes we root so hard for Nọsike. Other times, he is such a pain, you wish the pacing was faster.  

This novel triumphs for most part—the dialogue is breathtakingly original, the hand is sure, and children are children. Characters also leap off the page and become a tangible thing; the story is not at all contrived or generic. However, Chúkwúderà’s constant description of minor characters as ‘plump’ begs for a little imagination. Additionally, considering the author’s penchant for striking, brilliant descriptions, he could have given more attention to detailing what Nọsike’s parents do. We know they have a shop and that they sell in the market, but what exactly do they sell? What does their shop look like? We know they have a home in the village, but what type of house is it? What does the arrangement look like? 

In addition, I believe this book would have benefitted from more rigorous editing. In the section of the novel where they spend Christmas in their ancestral homeland, children are said to put money together to purchase ‘beer’. I want to believe this was an oversight during the editorial process (a reprint should correct this). If it wasn’t an editorial mistake, why was the issue of children purchasing alcohol not addressed? 

Loss is an Aftertaste of Memories ends on a hopeful note. We see the potential start of a friendship when Nọsike and Adaọra bond after their mother’s death and Nọsike’s accident. The meaning of Nọsike’s name, ‘stay strong’, takes on even more profound significance as well.  

Ultimately, this novel will further highlight the rise of younger Nigerian novelists. The focus has shifted from colonialism and post-colonial military regimes. We are now in an era of primordial civilian governments. African literature is thriving! Overall, I believe Chúkwúderà’s first offering is a delectable and deeply human novel—one of the best debut novels of our time⎈