The Joys of Motherhood, by Buchi Emecheta, is that rarity, a quiet piece of feminism. Its main character, Nnu Ego, is also out of the ordinary. (p. 93)

Both the old way of life which shaped Nnu Ego, and the new one she has to cope with, are described in absorbing detail. On the one hand is an Ibo village world of guardian gods, dream-readers, tattooed beauties and polygamous protocol; on the other, a shanty-town existence of backbreaking toil and petty trading—sales of smuggled cigarettes, fried locusts or laboriously-toted firewood. Sturdily unmawkish, the narrative movingly depicts the humiliations, ingenuities and small satisfactions of the poor. What emerges is a strong sense of exploited decency. As time passes, Nnu Ego discovers that the code of her culture—a code she has spent her life trying to conform to—is now obsolete.

Realistically, however, the novel does not write off her life as simply waste and exploitation. Its title is both ironic and unironic. Though she is a victim of conditioning and transition, Nnu Ego has found, in her restricted life, some cause for pleasure and pride, and celebration parties with palm wine. That these are faithfully recorded, too, in no way weakens Mrs Emecheta's indictment of repressive attitudes; it adds both strength and subtlety to an impressive book. (pp. 93-4)