‘The Joys of Motherhood’ by Buchi Emecheta: Dreams make life livable

No, I’m not a mother—yet. But when a friend brought me this book, the title intrigued me. I wanted to understand the joys that come with motherhood from a novel perspective — one that does not shy away from speaking its truth. I’ve always been fascinated by the reasons people give for wanting to have children. The most common answers are: "I don’t want to end up alone in old age," or "I want to leave my legacy through children." I think these are good reasons — selfish reasons, yes — but good reasons nonetheless.

The Joys of Motherhood starts with Nnu Ego running like a mad woman with no idea where she is going. She has just lost her first son — the child who finally proved to the world that she was a real woman, not barren as they once thought. Her first marriage ended badly, with her father, Agbadi, having to repay her bride price after her husband’s family mistreated her for her supposed infertility.

From here, the author takes us back to Nnu Ego’s origins—the story of her parents. Nnu Ego’s father, Agbadi, a famous and wealthy chief in Ibuza, had many wives: some he had married, and others he had inherited. Every family wanted to connect with him, but not Ona.

Ona, Nnu Ego’s mother, was beautiful, stubborn, and proud. She refused to be dazzled by Agbadi’s wealth or power. She lived by her rules but remained tethered to her father’s expectations. Without a son to inherit his name, her father pressured her to make choices that would preserve his legacy. Ona carried that burden, torn between her independence and her loyalty.

Even when Nnu Ego was conceived, Ona could not fully enjoy the moment of motherhood. Her life was tangled between her love for Agbadi and her duty to her father.

During labour, the two men argued over who had a greater claim to her: “Please, please, aren’t you two happy that I have survived the birth? It seems nobody is interested in that part of it..."

At her death, Ona made Agbadi promise that their daughter would be allowed to live her own life — to marry if she chose, and most importantly, to be her own woman.

This promise shaped Agbadi’s actions later. When Nnu Ego’s first marriage ended in cruelty, Agbadi ensured she found a husband who would love and be patient with her.

 Agbadi represents the kind of parent whose support gives a child the strength to move at her own pace — and to know it’s okay to come home when life falls apart.

“The art of loving, he knew, required deeper men. Men who could spare time to think. This quality was becoming rarer and rarer. Agbadi found, and sometimes he thought it was dying with his generation.”

Later, Nnu Ego moves to Lagos to marry Nnaife, a man she initially despised. She would never have agreed to marry him if her father had seen him.

Her feelings toward Nnaife shift after she gives birth to her first son, Ngozi, who dies after only four weeks. The loss devastates her — she almost ends her own life, unable to bear the shame of "failing" as a mother.

But her God blesses her with seven living children, whom she must raise mainly alone because one truth nobody told her about motherhood is that the children are yours, not your husband’s—especially when they grow up to be disappointments.

Nnu Ego worked day and night to ensure her children were fed and her son's school fees were paid while her husband was out parading what kind of man he was — marrying more wives and fathering more children, he cared little about.

Having children to avoid loneliness or to leave a legacy sounds good, but nothing guarantees how children will turn out. Parenthood offers no certainty that your children will stand by you when you are old, even after you have given your life to raising them.

“She was brought up to believe that children made a woman. Still, how was she to know that by the time her children grew up, the values of her country, her people, and her tribe would have changed so drastically, to the extent where a woman with many children could face a lonely old age, and maybe a miserable death, all alone — just like a barren woman?”

The Joys of Motherhood will leave you wondering: Having children is important, but not enough. True joy is also cultivating other relationships, such as deep friendships, communities, and a strong love for yourself.

At its core, Emecheta reminds us that love for your children is powerful, but your wholeness should never depend on them alone.

Jane Shussa is passionate about books, coffee, nature, and travel. She serves as a Senior Digital Communications Officer for Twaweza East Africa.