Sunday, 27 December 2015


Princeton, in the summer smelled of nothing...Philadelphia had the musty scent of history. New Haven smelled of neglect, Baltimore of sun warmed garbage. Adichie delivers an award winning opening paragraph, giving us a tiny little peak into the life of Ifemelu, our heroine. It is so expertly  craftily done that, even though we hardly know her, we are drawn to her.  She manages to fit several lives, several stories into a couple of pages without loosing the connection between them- Barack Obama, Nigerian cabbies abroad, Senegalese hair stylists and even our very own Nollywood gets a mention.
 Though the red pepper-flavored ice cream offered on Nassau street do not particularly  sound  appetizing, am really touched by Mariama saving up some money to send back home. And wait, she charges two hundred dollars just for braids ? I mean I could open a hair attachment factory with that in Lagos.
But this should be an interesting read and oh! What does your city smell of? Let me know.