It’s not every day you read a book that feels like a conversation with your inner thoughts, the messy ones you shove to the back of your mind when life demands you “get it together.” Tomorrow I Become a Woman by Aiwanose Odafen is one of those books that pulls you in, holds your hand, and then unapologetically slaps you with the realities of being a woman navigating culture, tradition, marriage, and identity.
The story centers around Adah, a Nigerian woman grappling with societal expectations of womanhood and marriage. It’s raw, haunting, and painfully relatable, especially if you’ve ever felt like you were being shaped to fit a mold you didn’t ask for. The book takes you from Adah’s childhood through her marriage to Ebika, where the supposed "happily ever after" turns into a layered exploration of power dynamics, sacrifice, and self-preservation.
Let me tell you, if you’re looking for a cheerful, feel-good story, this is not it. But if you want a deeply human narrative that feels like peeling back layers of your own fears and vulnerabilities, then welcome aboard.
The writing is stunning in its simplicity. Odafen doesn’t waste words, yet every sentence punches harder than your mom’s "we need to talk" tone. The book dissects how patriarchy and tradition can suffocate women, all while disguising it as “what’s best for you.” One particularly chilling moment is when Adah recalls being told, “It’s only in marriage that a woman’s life truly begins.” Imagine being handed that as a young girl and then being forced to live by it.
Adah’s relationship with Ebika is full of tension. One minute, you’re rooting for them to figure things out, and the next, you’re screaming at her to run faster than a matatu passenger chasing fare change. The layers of abuse. Emotional, psychological, and physical are handled with brutal honesty. It’s not easy to read, but it’s impossible to ignore.
There’s also an underlying theme of complicity how women can sometimes be the enforcers of their own oppression, not because they want to be, but because it’s what they’ve been taught. At one point, Adah reflects: “I do not know who I am without the rules I have been given to live by.” That hit like a brick.
Because it’s not just a story; it’s a mirror. If you’ve ever struggled with balancing what you want versus what’s expected of you, Adah’s journey will feel like someone dragging your own thoughts into the light. And if you haven’t experienced it personally, it’s a wake-up call to the silent battles so many women face daily.
Also, let’s talk about Odafen’s skill in weaving humor into such a heavy narrative. Yes, the book is intense, but there are moments where Adah’s inner dialogue makes you chuckle, almost as if she’s whispering to you, “Can you believe this nonsense?” Like when she quips, “If I am to become a virtuous woman, I’ll need to first find her and apologize for the mess I’ve made of her name.”
Adah’s mother and her influence on Adah’s decisions felt painfully real. It reminded me of the unspoken ways our parents’ voices shape our lives, even when we think we’re rebelling. There’s a part where her mother tells her, “A woman is not meant to raise her voice, even when her heart is screaming.” I had to close the book for a moment after that because, "what?".
But it’s not all doom and gloom. The friendships in the book, especially between Adah and her friends, are a much-needed balm. They’re not perfect relationships, but they’re real, showing the beauty and messiness of women supporting each other, even when they don’t fully agree.
Tomorrow I Become a Woman isn’t just a book; it’s an experience. It’s one of those stories that leaves you staring at the ceiling at 2 AM, rethinking your life choices. It’s not a light read, but it’s an important one, a perfect for anyone who’s ever felt torn between the life they want and the life they’re told they should have.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Just make sure you have tissues nearby and maybe a tub of ice cream for emotional support. This one’s going to stick with you long after you close the last page.
And to anyone planning to read it: brace yourself. As Adah says, “Becoming is not the same as living; sometimes, it’s survival dressed as success.” Let that simmer.
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