Twice as Perfect

Who

am

I?

The age-old question that creates cracks in one’s idea of ‘self’ as children grow into youths; as youths become adults; as adults age into elders; as elders outlive family and friends and the useful bodies they used to have. Or, as a once-healthy person is faced with a debilitating disease or condition that changes their way of being. Experiencing those changes is not particular to where a person comes from or the color of their skin. But, for first generation children of immigrant parents and for kids of cross-culture parents, the sinews and beliefs that hold together their sense of ‘self’ are cracked apart or twisted in different ways. Those kids have added obstacles they must negotiate and master just to survive. To thrive is another level of effort they have to make.

Ada Nkwachi, 17, is a first-generation Nigerian daughter living in Toronto, Ontario. And in Twice as Perfect, author Louisa Onomé uses Ada’s cousin’s celebrity wedding and a 17-year-old cross-culture debate partner who drives a Mercedes-Benz to stand struggling immigrant stereotypes on their head and pull readers into the drama, chaos, taboos and uncertainty that is Ada’s life in her final year of high school.

Ada and her cousins (who aren’t really her cousins but whose family and Ada’s family have been fast friends since they immigrated to Canada) tell readers that Nigerian kids can do anything. But Nigerian culture demands that Nigerian kids must choose one of three career paths: doctor, engineer or lawyer. In her cousin Genny’s case, it seems marrying a celebrity is also an acceptable choice. However, in Ada’s family, her older brother, Sam, chose being a poet, and he was ejected from the house and the family. For six years, Ada hasn’t known where he is, what he’s doing or why he abandoned her to be the one to fulfill their parents’ aspirations, a role that’s left her believing she must be twice as perfect at everything she does and twice as submissive to her parents’ wishes so she won’t also disappoint them after the huge sacrifice they made to come to Canada and, like Sam, be banished from the family. That’s a heavy load for young shoulders to carry. Ada’s a straight-A student, a champion debater, and headed for pre-law. And still, she believes that whatever she does is not enough in her father’s eyes, a belief that’s proven true when she decides that maybe she doesn’t want to be a lawyer after all, and the proverbial shit begins to hit the fan. However, it’s something she does later that causes the real explosion between her and her parents.

Onomé brings Ada to life as a complex character who is growing up in a situation that is not only different from that of kids who grow up in a culture which their families have been part of for generations, but it’s also trickier. Through Ada and her cousins and aunties, readers see life in a well-to-do, close-knit, Nigerian immigrant community and get a look at Nigerian culture on the whole. For this reader, that culture seems vibrant, loud, and chaotic, but extremely structured at the same time. Actions and reactions are quick and intense and can be physical. And if someone goes over the line, forgiveness is swift.

The story is fairly fast-paced, the language is colorful and gives a full picture in all the sensory aspects, the dialogue is appropriate, and ,when it comes to the pidgin English, instructive for those who know nothing about the language Nigerian immigrants use among themselves. That said, there are times that the wedding preparations slow things down to what feels more like an info-dump than an essential part of the story.

There are multiple layers and storylines in Twice As Perfect which make it a thought-provoking read. Coming of age, immigration, cross-cultural kids, cultural appropriation, what constitutes success and family bonds and breaks all have a place. But the dominant story is Ada’s. She must walk a fine line between being what her culture, and her father, demand, and learning to live within the culture her family has come to. Furthermore, she must walk that line without the influence, protection and help of her only sibling. She is smart. She’s vocal. And she is tenacious. She is also narcissistic, a flaw that might be explained by the fact her parents are blind to everything but their idea of acceptable success. Additionally, Ada’s spent her life not having her feelings acknowledged or even being able to name the feelings within herself. Therefore, her ability to read other people’s feelings or to understand how her actions might affect others is close to nonexistent. It is that lack that causes the scene where the explosion occurs.

Ada knows absolutely nothing about why her brother left, and many of her cousins and aunties and uncles believe he is a criminal in jail. No one in their community knows the true story of what happened to him, except, as readers later learn, one member with whom he’s been in touch. In the first half of the book, Sam’s absence is a critical part of Ada’s development (or lack thereof when it comes to knowing what she wants), which is a believable premise. But the lack of information concerning Sam when Ada connects with him leaves this reader unable to form an understanding of him. Why wouldn’t a brother want his innocent sister to know the truth about him? I also lack any understanding of why the person who was in contact with him allowed the misinformation to circulate unchecked.

Added to that is perhaps the biggest problem for me as a reader of this book. Though forgiveness of such things as rudeness and hurtful judgements within their community is quick, Sam’s transgression in his parents’ eyes is much, much worse. He and his parents have maintained silence and distance for six years. Worse, none of them has allowed Ada to know anything about the situation that caused the rift or about her brother’s life since he left. Throughout the book, Ada’s father is presented as an unyielding and autocratic man who neither forgets nor forgives. He actually calls Sam out to their whole community as a thief.

So, for me the ending doesn’t ring true.