The irony of Ogadinma’s title recalls Buchi Emecheta’s The Joys of Motherhood. Both novels hint at comfort and resolution, yet offer little relief to the reader. In Ogadinma, the name itself suggests that everything will be alright. And because it’s the protagonist’s name, the reader holds on to that hope, waiting for a turning point that never quite arrives.
In Ogadinma, or Everything Will Be All Right, Olisakwe paints a vivid and poignant tale set in the bustling streets of Lagos and Kano. After becoming pregnant out of wedlock (the result of being raped by a man who promises to help her gain university admission), Ogadinma is sent to live with her uncle and his family in Lagos. But instead of a fresh start, she finds herself caught in a cycle of abuse and control that mirrors the wider struggles many women face in patriarchal societies. The novel follows her path toward self-awareness, resistance, and hard-won autonomy.
Nearly everyone in Ogadinma’s life fails her. They hold up harmful systems that strip her of agency, starting with her father, who never even asks who got her pregnant. Instead, he marries her off to a much older and powerful man. Olisakwe’s storytelling makes it painfully clear how purity culture and rigid gender roles can turn deeply personal experiences into public shame. To her father, Ogadinma’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy isn’t a crisis of care; it’s a stain on his reputation. And for him, the only solution is marriage. This is all that consumes him, not her well-being, not the continuation of her life or her education.
For a while, things seem stable. Ogadinma and her husband, Tobe, live comfortably, and the reader feels a brief moment of relief. But that peace is shaky; her husband controls her entirely, refusing to let her work or continue her education. When he loses his fortune in a witch hunt of government contractors during the military regime, the cracks start to show. (I remember holding my breath as I read the scenes leading up to the first time Ogadinma’s husband hits her.) Olisakwe builds this tension masterfully; she brings the reader’s awareness to the shift in Ogadinma’s husband’s personality. His spirit breaks; the one thing that gives him control over Ogadinma no longer exists, so he turns to violence to keep the power in the relationship.
Olisakwe writes in crisp prose filled with emotional clarity. The narration is straightforward, often raw, reflecting the protagonist’s limited control over her environment, especially in the earlier parts of the novel, before gradually shifting into growing awareness. The simplicity of the style never downplays the heavy themes, making the book deeply affecting without being overly sentimental.
Ogadinma eventually breaks free from her husband’s abuse. She starts fresh, leaving their baby behind. Ogadinma is a complex and evolving character. Her naivety, strength, silence, and eventual awakening are portrayed realistically. Supporting characters, like Uncle Ugonna and Aunty Ngozi, while not always likable, are equally well-drawn, embodying various facets of Nigerian society and gender dynamics.
Ogadinma, or Everything Will Be All Right, is deeply rooted in Nigeria’s military era and tackles issues like domestic violence, sexual assault, forced marriage, and societal shame, but always through a personal, intimate lens. Olisakwe doesn’t flinch. She writes what many won’t say out loud. Ogadinma is a bold, quietly devastating novel that gives voice to the silenced and deserves a firm place in the canon of contemporary Nigerian literature.
Alex
Ahmad Mubarak Tanimu