My Name is Konisola
My Name is Konisola
When she and Darlene return from the hospital, Konisola hurries to her room and shuts the door. She doesn’t want to see or speak to anyone. In her hand, she’s still clutching the drawing she made for her mother. She tears it to shreds.
“Konisola?” Darlene knocks, calls softly from the other side of the door. “How about some dinner?”
She doesn’t answer.
“You take all the time you need. We’ll see your mom again tomorrow.”
That night, the nightmares return. They always do. The terrifying scenes, the twists and turns. Her shrieks in the middle of the night.
Darlene returns too.
...
Konisola was supposed to stay with Darlene for just a few days, but now it’s going to be longer.
Darlene and Konisola go back to visit her mother the next day and the day after that. Whenever they can, Konisola and Debbie return to the hospital. Konisola gets the same wobbly feeling in her legs each time she enters the building.
Darlene does what she can to try and make the visits just a little bit easier. “Let’s guess which of the elevators is going to open for us.” And as soon as they get out on the 6th floor, Darlene hollers, “Never too old to race! First one to your mother’s room wins! On your mark. Get set. GO!”
Down the long hall they run. Along the way, they pass doctors, nurses, orderlies, and volunteers. Everyone watches them. And Darlene and Konisola are a funny-looking pair. One short and white, jiggly and middle-aged. The other tall and black, young and strong.
“You got me. This time,” Darlene says when they reach Abimbola’s room.
My Name is Konisola is the story of Konisola and her mother, Abimbola, who came to Canada as refugees from Nigeria. When Abimbola becomes ill, nine-year-old Konisola has to cope with not only finding her place in Canada, but finding a place to live. They must work with the court system to not only be granted refugee status and stay in Canada but also to have formal care arranged for Konisola should the worst occur.
The writing in this book is clear yet lyrical; Siegel does a very good job of putting the reader inside the mind of a nine-year old as Konisola—Konnie—deals with the obstacles of her new life. With its short, precise chapters, this book would be suitable for emerging readers. The text is engaging and well-balanced, with a nice proportion of descriptive language, dialogue, and exposition. Konnie’s thoughts are often shared with the reader, even when she isn’t able to voice these thoughts to her caregivers and the other adults in her life. Konnie comes off the page as a particularly sensitive and perceptive child, though not entirely without her flaws which is one of the things that makes her so relatable.
In fact, one of the surprising things about My Name is Konisola is how well-developed the characters are, considering its short length. Siegel does an excellent job of illustrating feelings, personalities, and motivations for not just Konnie and her mother, but also the women who take Konnie in and the retired lawyer who takes an interest in her case. Darlene, a nurse at the hospital where Konnie’s mom is a patient, agrees to take Konnie in temporarily. Konnie’s daughter Sara occasionally struggles with her mother’s decision, showing signs of jealousy at the arrival of the newcomer. The two women are portrayed in a very realistic manner, just like Konnie—flawed, but with generous spirits and real kindness.
Based on a true story, My Name is Konisola is a beautiful and emotional example of what it should look like for those who come to Canada seeking a safe place to live their lives. Spoiler alert: have tissues handy!
Allison Giggey is an intermediate teacher-librarian in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.