Unigwe does a fantastic job of portraying the plight of these young women, thereby giving the reader the benefit of an insider’s point of view
I just finished reading On Black Sisters’ Street by Chika Unigwe. In this book, Unigwe tackles the issue of African immigrants going to Europe to make a living through prostitution. In the story based in Antwerp’s red-light district, the reader follows the fortunes of four female protagonists (Sisi, Ama, Joyce and Efe) and their madam. What appears at first to be a story of prostitution by Africans in Europe ends up being a conversation about immigration, corruption and issues of gender and power in African countries. I enjoyed reading On Black Sisters’ Street and heartily recommend it. It is plodding at first but if you stick with it, you won’t be sorry.
When I first started reading the book, it took me a few days to get into the story. The reason for this, I realise with hindsight, is that the reader is thrust straight into the story with no preamble. It hints at things that the reader should know about but is, at that point, totally unaware of. It is almost as if the story is impatient to be told and cannot afford the luxury of superfluity.
In the first two chapters, the four women from very different backgrounds, around which the story revolves, are introduced. Again, Unigwe does not waste time painting character sketches; she lets the characters show themselves for who they really are. And I have to say, she does an excellent job of it. Over the course of the book, the reader is able to slowly but surely piece together an exact picture of the characters. As the women told their stories in subsequent chapters, I got so caught up in their lives, I might as well have been sitting in their garish living room in Zwartezusterstraat having a conversation with them.
Of all the characters, I empathised most with Chisom (Sisi). Ogba was one of the many places I lived in as a young graduate and recently passed-out youth corper, having left home in Port Harcourt to seek my fame and fortune in Lagos. Her travails spoke to me. Through her, I vicariously relived the hopes of a young Nigerian graduate, except it isn’t just her hopes Chisom has to contend with but also those of her family. In Chisom resides hope that she would be the ticket out of a life of mediocrity and border-line poverty to owning a car and a better house in the more expensive Lagos suburb, Ikoyi.
The women endure several fates and mishaps that serve as bonding catalysts for drawing them closer, and shape the trajectory of the story. Their shared experience draws them together, erasing their differences while creating a safe environment to share dark secrets from their past which they had hitherto kept to themselves.
I particularly enjoyed the little glimpses Unigwe provided into the characters’ lives. It lifted my spirits no end. In a story as gritty as this one, you find yourself grasping at every ray of sunshine which filters through the stigma and shame of having been forced into selling one’s body for a living.
Reading the book made me realise how I had subconsciously judged prostitutes as the dregs of society without actually considering that they may not necessarily be that way by choice. After all, I reasoned, we all have a choice. Why would any woman choose to become a prostitute? It brought me face-to-face with my personal prejudices and misconceptions, as the story of each of their lives unfolded, shaming me into acknowledging my ignorance and shallow-mindedness.
The issue of Nigerian women working as prostitutes across Europe is one that is not going away in a hurry and Unigwe does a fantastic job of portraying the plight of these young women, thereby giving the reader the benefit of an insider’s point of view. She provides these marginalised and voiceless members of society a platform to tell their stories; stories of child molestation, rape, poverty, broken dreams, heartbreak and displacement, stories which humanise, dignify and demonstrate their similarity to the rest of us. Where the world would rather gag, ignore, relegate to the background and bully into silence, as though theirs is a lesser story than the rest of ours, Unigwe allows these women to vent and to remind us of the popular saying, “There but for the grace of God go I”.
I did not like the sequencing of the chapters. In the beginning, I got confused, as each new chapter flits back and forth from the present to the past and profiles the characters at varying stages of their lives. It did take some getting used to but I got there eventually. Still, this book touched me on so many different levels and I really enjoyed reading it. On Black Sisters’ Street is a long overdue conversation about the elephant in our room. I thank Unigwe for offering me and the world the opportunity to look in the mirror, question our assumptions about others and confront our own prejudices.
