No Sweetness Here
No Sweetness Here (1969) by Ama Ata Aidoo In this collection, Ama Aita Aidoo explores postcolonial life in Ghana with her characteristic honesty and humor. Tradition wrestles with new urban influences as Africans try to sort out their identity in a changing culture. True to the tradition of African storytelling, the characters come to life through their distinct voices and speech. If there is no sweetness, there is the salt essential to life, even if it comes from tears, and the strength that comes from a history of endurance.
Quotes
edit- Kodjo Fi was a selfish and bullying man, whom no decent woman ought to have married. He got on marvellously with his two other wives but they were three of a feather
- Now all I must do is to try and prepare myself for another pregnancy, for it seems this is the reason why I was created . . . to be pregnant for nine of the twelve months of every year. . . . Or is there a way out of it at all? And where does this road lie?
- A Master’s here. A Doctorate there. . . . That was the other thing about the revolution.
- She hurried home and into the bathroom where she vomited – and cried and cried and vomited for what seemed to her to be days.
- They used to tell her that they found the thought of returning home frightening. They would be frustrated.
- Even that was not the whole story. Suddenly, it seemed as if all the girls and women she knew and remembered as having smooth black skins had turned light-skinned.
- What was more, if they really wanted to see a revolution, why didn’t they work constructively in other ways for it?
- one did not really go to school to learn about Africa.
- She had always known that in her society men and women had had more important things to do than fight each other in the mind.
- if we honestly tackled the problems facing us, we wouldn’t have the time to worry about such trifles as wigs
- and then as a student of economics, she would also try to remember some other truths she knew about Africa
- The wig. Ah, the wig. They say it is made of artificial fibre. Others swear that if it is not gipsy hair, then it is Chinese. Extremists are sure they are made from the hairs of dead white folk – this one gave her nightmares, for she had read somewhere, a long time ago, about Germans making lampshades out of Jewish people’s skins
- when life fails you, it fails you totally
- But I was a teacher, and I went the white man’s way
- That it was so much easier for them to talk about the beauty of being oneself.
- As for imitating white women, mm, what else can one do, seeing how some of our brothers behave? The things one has seen with one’s own eyes. The stories one has heard. About African politicians and diplomats abroad.
- The wig was, after all, only a hat. A turban. Would they please leave her alone? What was more, if they really wanted to see a revolution, why didn’t they work constructively in other ways for it?
- After a time, she gave up arguing with them, her brothers. She just stated clearly that the wig was an easy way out as far as she was concerned. She could not afford to waste that much time on her hair. The wig was, after all, only a hat. A turban. Would they please leave her alone? What was more, if they really wanted to see a revolution, why didn’t they work constructively in other ways for it?
- m saying, Zirigu, that there must be something wrong when young girls who have seen their blood not many moons gone, go sleeping with men who are old enough to be their fathers, and sometimes their grandfathers. And no one is saying anything
- But Allah has made it so. All women are slaves of our lords. These new masters are not Believers. It is not Allah’s will. And they are shameful acts
- ‘I do not know, Zirigu, but it is certainly good that all my children are boys. It is good I never had a daughter. Because if I had had a daughter, and I knew a big man was doing unholy things with her, then with a matchet in my own hand, I would have cut that big man to pieces myself!’
- Zirigu, now you better shut up your mouth before you annoy me. Since when did you start teaching me how to do my marketing? This is my job. A woman’s job.
- even in the old times, people said that just to be old in itself was nothing. One could be old wise or old foolish
- Sometimes Setu and I wonder how God created the other people who have so much money that they can put some in a bank.
- Chicha, our people say a bad marriage kills the soul. Mine is fit for burial.’
- Why should I make myself unhappy about a man for whom I ceased to exist a long time ago?’
- He was beautiful, but that was not important. Beauty does not play such a vital role in a man's life as it does in a woman's, or so people think. If a man's beauty is so ill-mannered as to be noticeable, people discreetly ignore its existence.
- [No Sweetness Here; 66]
- My daughter, when life fails you, it fails you totally. One's yams reflect the total sum of one's life.
- [No Sweetness Here; 70]
- A goalkeeper is a dubious character in infant soccer. He is either a good goalkeeper and that is why he is at the goal, which is usually difficult to know in a child, or he is a bad player.
- [No Sweetness Here; 78]
- Of course I will struggle…but I will let him go”
- Page 62
- And he was his mother’s only child. She has no one now. We do not understand it. Life is not sweet!’ Thus ran the verdict”
- Page 71
- [I]t was six o’clock…this time, I did not run”
- Page 74
- He was beautiful, but that was not important.”
- Page 56
- Please, Chicha, I always know you are just making fun of me, but please, promise me won’t take Kwesi away with you.”
- Page 56
- One’s yams reflect the sum total of one’s life. And mine look wretched enough.”
- Page 56
