Time with Chimamanda’s Half of a Yellow Sun

Look, I've been places. When I tell you that, believe me. CNA's Half of a Yellow Sun had me do crazy stuff. Like, eerily exciting stuff. When I got it in 2016 from Ehanom, I was in Takoradi for vacation then. Though not particularly sure about this, I remember it coming in the company of two of Alba K. Sumprim's works.

Upon laying hands on the book, I took some time to skim through and assure myself of its quality.

"Is this work as monumental as they say it is?," I kept asking myself.

All this while, I was only a few days away from returning to Accra. The excitement built up to the brim. Giddy. Anxious. There was only one problem home: a lack of serenity. I required that to savor this work yet my stay at home wasn’t having any of that.

Knowing perfectly well how close reopening was, I decided to report to school two days before time. "What for?," you’d ask. CNA had worked things up my skull. Call it a spell, juju, or whatever you choose to but I needed the solitude. I stayed up two nights prior to my departure soliloquizing. Going back and forth, my room was my stage; my audience, my alter egos. I had it all to myself and I had to convince my dad that it was time for me to return to Accra -- even though that was far from reality.

I pulled through; I was in a bus headed for Accra two days later. I alighted at Kaneshie around twelve midday and boarded the next bus for Madina. Madina, Madina, Madina. A honorary son was returning and he was half of a yellow sun.

In less than two hours, I was on campus and it was as quite as I’d never witnessed. There were only the guy in charge of security and about two other students. I was very privileged then. I lodged with Level 400 students in a room reserved for prefects. Something every Level 100 student coveted me for. I went for the keys and got my things packed into the room. After taking a cold shower, I tidied up the place, got some food in abundance and locked myself in there.

36 hours. That is how long it took.

Within a span of about 36 hours of putting myself under house arrest, I was done studying the novel. Yes, I studied it thoroughly; with a pen, notepad and dictionary by my bedside, I flipped those leaflets meticulously -- stopping to memorize some lines and repeat some words until they found a safe haven on my tongue.

I was that madly in love with her works. Americanah was very enjoyable. It is what got me so highly expectant of the next novel. When I stayed indoors, I wouldn't leave until I had to go recite my prayers or visit the washroom. The feeling was surreal. It was my first time of going on a solitary confinement for a book and it had to be Chimamanda's. Such an enjoyable voyage it was as I loved every breath that came with it.

Believe me if I say I've been a mad fan of CNA before. I was. Time changed and I'm not that much of a fan anymore. The fluidity came to an abrupt halt. This write-up, if it serves anything, is only proof of my loyalty. A sign of razbliuto, at best.