We Were Girls Once’ by Aiwanose Odafeni: No place is like home.

“We were the reason my mother stayed: I knew it. She knew it. We all knew it. ‘Think about your children,’ was how my grandmother chastined her.” These words capture the belief often shared by society and family members to mothers in abusive relationships; marriage included: children need both parents. While this may hold some truth, it overlooks the lasting damage that growing up in an abusive environment can inflict on children. In We Were Girls Once by Aiwanose Odafeni, this complex dynamic is poignantly explored through the story of Nwakaego, or Ego for short, highlighting the burdens placed on women and the impacts of their choices on their children.

A sequel to Tomorrow I Become a Woman, this novel follows the intertwined lives of three friends—Ego, Eriife, and Zina—as they transition to womanhood in modern Nigeria’s political and societal complexities.

The book opens with Ego’s story, Uju's daughter. A lawyer living in the United Kingdom, Ego is haunted by a traumatic past and isolation in a foreign land. Odafeni uses Ego’s narrative to explore themes of domestic abuse, religion, resilience, and the scars—both physical and emotional—that such experiences leave behind.

As a child, Ego endures the harshest effects of her father's relentless domestic abuse. In one painful moment, her attempt to stand up against her father's violence toward her mother nearly costs her life. The incident leaves her with a physical scar—a reminder of the unbearable trauma she endured.

“He was bent over my mother’s body, landing blow after blow, not caring what part of her they connected with, screaming in her bloodied face, deranged. When he was like this, my mother always begged me to hide, to protect myself and my sisters from his feral rage, but this time, I wasn’t going to cower.”

Despite her parents' expectations, Zina, Adaugo’s daughter, is an independent and open-minded young woman determined to carve her path. Rejecting the life they had envisioned for her, she escapes an arranged marriage to pursue her passion for acting—but not without significant cost.

Her journey toward realising her dream is faced with mental health struggles. Sleep eludes her, and she is haunted by nightmares of the life she left behind.

“Would they find my body? It was probably better if they didn’t. It was how I deserved to be remembered: the mami water that suddenly vanished, never to be heard from again.” These haunting words capture Zina’s pain and the toll her pursuit of freedom takes on her.

After losing her mother, Chinelo, Eriife, a medical doctor, offers a contrasting perspective. She falls in love with a young activist passionate about transforming Nigeria. For Eriife, this love becomes an escape, a way to cope with the loss.

“I’d also chosen to marry into politics, a game where there were no permanent enemies or lasting friends.”

Through Eriife’s story, Odafeni examines power's corrupting nature and politics' inner workings. Her life serves as an open window into a world where accountability is scarce, and leaders often dismiss the needs of those they govern.

“Our people are not given to revolt; they are docile to a fault. If you push them to a wall, they would rather break through it than fight back.” The cynicism of leadership is striking.

Odafeni explores themes of democracy and patriotism, questioning what it means to love one’s country. She critiques a democracy where leaders use fear and deception to silence opposition, arguing that true patriotism lies in honesty. “Loving my country means being able to tell the truth about it.”

At one point, Odafeni paints a gloomy picture of a society where political discussions are muffled by fear: “When we deigned to discuss politics, we said to each other in hushed tones, ‘Do you want them to come carry you?’ By them, we meant the special forces that had taken to disappearing dissidents—we feared that we, or someone we loved, would be the next victims of this cannibalistic government.” This obvious portrayal invites readers to reflect on the broader state of governance in Africa, where the shared struggles of so-called democracies make one wonder if “Africa is a country.”

We Were Girls Once proves that female friendship is a sheltering tree. It is a quiet place to find yourself and to heal. It is a place to start over with a new perspective and love to push you through the bad, the good, the in-between, and the ugly.

Odafeni’s writing is rich and captivating. The characters are developed with full-on emotional depth to be relatable. It leaves readers to reflect on their home countries' political environment. The author implores readers to do something about their circumstances. “We must do something! We cannot continue to be persecuted in our own country.”

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