الصمت لغتي

by Sulaiman Addonia, عبدالرحمن النجار (ترجمة)

Saba arrives in an East African refugee camp as a young girl, devastated to have had to abandon her books as her family fled. In this crowded and often hostile place, she must carve out her new existence, always protecting her mute brother Hagos.

A moving portrait of a woman of courage and intelligence, an insider’s view of the textures of life in a refugee camp, and a compelling story of exile, survival and love, Silence is My Mother Tongue bears vivid testimony to the power of imagination and illusion and the infinite reach of human minds to reinvent themselves.

Both intimate and epic, Sulaiman Addonia’s extraordinary, subversive and sensual second novel dissects society’s ability to wage war on its own women and explores the stories we must tell to survive in a broken, inhospitable environment.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, Eritrea, Contemporary, LGBT, Audiobook, Queer

314 pages, Paperback

First published October 25, 2018

About the author

Sulaiman S.M.Y. Addonia is an author residing in London. He was born as the son of an Eritrean mother and an Ethiopian father in Eritrea. He spent his early life in a refugee camp in Sudan, following the Om Hajar massacre in 1976. In his early teens, he lived and studied in Saudi Arabia. He sought the asylum with his brother in London in 1990, and studied at the University College London.

Reviews

[Andrew Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Saba is an intelligent girl who is doing very well at school and dreams that one day she’ll qualify as a medical doctor. But when she is forced to leave trouble torn Eritrea she leaves behind not only her schooling but also the comfortable family home. Instead she is delivered across the border to a Sudanese refugee camp where her new home is a small hut and her bed is a hard floor. There’s no school here – in fact, there's not much of anything here.

We view Saba from a several different perspectives and it's evident that she is a strong willed and driven girl. She also has a burning need to look after her brother, Hagos, who cannot read or write and is mute. Her mother, the only other family member in their group, shares a strained relationship with her daughter – she just can’t understand why Saba doesn’t have the same aspirations as other girls from her background. As we meet fellow refugees Saba interacts with we start to get a sense of the type of physical and mental challenges they all face in this new environment. It's a tough place to live and at this point they have no idea how long they will be forced to stay here.

The story unfolds in unusual style with a set piece opening scene at the culmination of which we’re transported back in time to discover how we got to this point. I think it works, though I wasn’t sure for a while. But this isn’t the end point of this tale, there is more to come. Can Saba rise above seemingly unsurmountable barriers to achieve her goals? And what of her mother and her beloved Hagos, what will become of them?

There is love, ambition and sacrifice here - it makes for uncomfortable reading in parts but it’s uplifting too. And the storytelling is sometimes raw, with unbridled scenes of sexual coupling and masturbation. Maybe not everyone’s cup of tea. But stick with it and it will deliver its reward. For me that was an insight into a world of which I was wholly ignorant. I’m not sure that this book entertained me but it certainly educated me.

My sincere thanks to The Indigo Press for supplying a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Henk · Rating 3 out of 5]

A brother and sister end up entangled into a business family, while trying to escape the lack of perspective and social control in a Sudanese refugee camp
A woman is too complex for a man, that’s why we reduce her to simple matters.

Silence is My Mother Tongue starts of innovative, with the bedsheets in a refugee camp serving as a cinema for the mind. The focus shifts to the conditions that led to the trial observed on the bedsheets, centering on two siblings.
Both are Eritrean Ethiopian, a brother (mute) and sister (burned and burdened by the hopes of university study from her mother), who try to find their place in a seeming limbo: Live in this place would be about searching for alternatives

Influence from Italian and British occupation on culture is clear.
Sexual abuse and attempted genital mutilation surface, with one character remarking: Tradition is the third religion in this camp
Women gatekeeping female behavior and being more explicitly conservative than the men in the camp is a recurring theme. Only through alliance with a man some kind of freedom can be found. But this power asymmetry brings great risks:
Promises are enough when actions are meaningless

Meanwhile something is brewing in the brother as well, who for the most sections of the book is not only mute but also seemingly unseen: To see is not the same as to be seen

The structure of the book does work remarkably well near the end, being quite touching, but the middle of the book was a bit slow and even boring for me. Still an interesting work, which touches upon a lot of themes and makes you care about its main characters.

[Monika · Rating 5 out of 5]

The act of physical growth was perhaps connected with the most frequently asked of all questions. What is your mother tongue? There used to be limitless answers, to each child, their own. As an adult, however, there is but only one. SILENCE!!

Silence is a lack of presence; it is the absence of an individual from a space densely populated by deafening clamour. Saba and Hagos, and all the others in a refugee camp in Sudan, are also a part of this other place; it is a point of no return, a place full of hope, and of light at the end, which moves away tenfold with each step.

Hagos cannot express himself vocally, as he is born mute. His sister, Saba, similarly, cannot express her desires. A torturous abuse connects them and renders them voiceless. Adulthood silences them further with its sets of dos and don'ts. Through an act of resistance, Saba establishes her stronghold on her body as she plants her fingers in her vagina, like "the flag of a free country". As she experiences the pleasure of this revolt, the rest of her "assaulted body" is filled up with the silences of promises - of a school, of a better life, and of an impossible return.

[8stitches 9lives · Rating 5 out of 5]

Silence Is My Mother Tongue is Sulaiman Addonia's second novel and it's an impassioned one at that. It perfectly highlights the sheer power books can have on those who choose to pick them up and the impact and indelible imprint they can leave on their readers. I feel that one of the reasons this novel moved me so much is due to its authenticity and the beautifully painted characters. This is a simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming tale which shows that even in times of extreme adversity wonderful things can flourish. Set in an East African refugee camp, it follows the trials and tribulations of Saba, a young woman who is trying to care for her mute brother Hagos in such a tough landscape. As the author spent time in a refugee camp I feel we get a realistic view from an inside source.

I can't begin to imagine the fear of the unknown that is bound to be at the forefront of the mind of those who are forced to leave the only place they've ever called home to move to a foreign land where everything works differently, leaving everything behind. The language barrier and inability to effectively communicate with anyone but those you travelled with would also be one of the biggest hardships. As immigration seems to be on everyone's mind at the moment, this is an inspired time to publish such a title. The hardship and harsh living conditions illustrate that even in the most hostile of places, love can develop.

This is one of the best books I've ever had the pleasure to read, and even long after finishing reading it has been on my mind. Addonia is a superb storyteller, and there was nothing I didn't like about the story. A simply unforgettable read. Powerful, inspirational and a tale of strength and survival. Both the exquisite prose and the searingly, emotive story will capture your heart. Make no mistake, this is a novel you will remember for a long time to come. Highly recommended.

Many thanks to Alex at The Indigo Press for sending me a copy. I was not required to post a review, and all thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.

[Inderjit Sanghera · Rating 5 out of 5]

The reverberations of  life in the refugee camp in which 'Silence is My Mother Tongue' dominate the novel; the feeling of suffocation as the characters are stifled by the never-ending feeling is misery and poverty. This is coupled with, however, Addonia's deep-rooted sense of humanity and powers of perception, his innate sympathy for women, whether it is the prostitute Nasnet, punished, like so many women, by men for the desires she arouses in them and the heroine of the novel, Saba. Addonia is able to render the innate poetry of Saba throughout the novel, from her purple-hued thighs in the sepulchral light of dusk, to her allure as glimpsed in the azure hued hill-top view of the voyeuristic narrator. The world which Addonia conjures up is one of baleful beauty, of the scarlet incandescence of dusk or the glare of the sun and the interplay of light and shadows it creates, so that the images he creates are ones of desperation, hope and beauty and the illusions and mirages which a work of fiction necessitates. 

Moreover, 'Silence is My Mother Tongue' does away with a large number of gender conventions and sexual tropes; from the relationship between the powerful businessman Eyob and her mute twin-brother Hagos, to the sympathy coalesced with romance experienced between Nasnet and Saba as the former is subjected to a sexual assault by one of her clients, sensuality resonates from every page of the novel, but relationships often play it in ways in which the reader would not expect, passions are left unexplained, desires unexplored, as the characters writhe under the heat of the passions they experience beneath the never-ending glare of the Sudanese sun. What stands out most, however, is Addonia's sympathetic exploration of the emotional lives of the women in his novel. All of the women, including ones who the reader would find it difficult to sympathise with, such as the mid-wife who enforces FGM, are portrayed with sympathy and depth, although the same could also be said for the male characters as well.

'Silence is My Mother Tongue' is a darkly poetic masterpiece and a brilliant distillation of Addonia's humanism and aesthetics. 

[Kaila · Rating 3 out of 5]

3/5 stars

This was an intimate and beautifully written story. It is set in a Sudanese refugee camp and follows Saba, an intelligent, independent and courageous young woman. I love that this is an own-voices novel, as the author himself spent time in an East Asian refugee camp. This reflects in the honest and emotional portrayal of the feeling of being forgotten, timelessness and at times hopelessness that the characters in the camp feel. Above all, I think this really is a human story. It is simple but is compelling in the way that it focuses on the lives of these diverse characters that are tied together in a common place.

While I think this is a well-written and enlightening portrayal of this refugee camp in Sudan, I do feel uncomfortable with the sensuality and overall treatment of Saba as a character. As a general rule of thumb, I would prefer to read books written by women if they are going to deal with subjects regarding female bodies, feminism and female sexuality. The seemingly misplaced use of erotic scenes and exploration of Saba’s sensuality felt much more invasive and observed than makes me comfortable. I understand what the author was trying to do, and I could definitely feel the strength and defiance of Saba, but I was also uncomfortable at how her sexuality was explored. I think the ‘male gaze’ is a perfect was to describe the way she was written. She felt exploited in every way, and I don’t know how much of this was intended and how much of it was me feeling as if the author himself was exploiting her character. This definitely spoiled my enjoyment of the book, especially considering it was a central theme of the story.

[Nathalie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Indrukwekkend relaas over het leven in een hectisch vluchtelingenkamp

Sulaiman Addonia is een Eritrees-Ethiopische auteur die momenteel in Brussel woont. Als kind met zijn moeder gevlucht naar een vluchtelingenkamp in Soedan belandde hij daarna met zijn familie in Saoedi-Arabië. Maar zijn moeder stuurde hem en zijn jongere broer als minderjarige vluchteling naar Londen omdat ze de status van arbeidsmigranten in Saoedi-Arabië sterk wantrouwde en zo verkreeg hij tevens de Britse nationaliteit. In Londen werd hij schrijver en ontmoette hij tenslotte ook zijn Vlaamse liefde die hem naar Brussel deed verhuizen. Zijn eerste roman, Als gevolg van liefde, stond op de shortlist van de Commonwealth Writers’ Prize en verscheen in meer dan twintig talen. Hij is ondertussen ook columnist geworden in de Belgische krant De Standaard. Onlangs bracht uitgeverij Jurgen Maas zijn nieuwe roman, Stilte is mijn moedertaal, uit in Nederlandse vertaling. In die roman vertelt hij over het vluchtelingenbestaan dat hij zelf meemaakte in Soedan. Addonia: "Je verlaat je land, maar je land verlaat jou nooit".

In deze roman vertelt hij het levensverhaal van enkele personages in een vluchtelingenkamp ergens in een Oost-Afrikaans land die gevlucht zijn uit een oorlogszone. Het verhaal gaat vooral over de adolescente Saba die niet de ideale dochter is, en haar eigen land heeft moeten verlaten waar ze met haar familie in een eigen huis woonde en waar zij over haar studieboeken gebogen zat omdat ze verder wilde studeren. Ze koestert deze wens nog steeds diep in haar en kan er ook in het kamp niet over zwijgen. Ze verblijft er met haar moeder en haar broer Hagos die nooit heeft leren spreken en stom door het leven gaat maar met wie ze een nauwe intieme band heeft. Haar relatie met de meer feminiene Hagos wordt met argusogen gevolgd door sommigen die deze relatie niet als gepast zien, en hun diepe vertrouwen in elkaar niet begrijpen. Hagos neemt de verzorgende functie op in het gezin terwijl Saba dromen heeft die ze nog wil verwezenlijken. Ze nemen geen van beiden een genderrol in die past in hun traditionele gemeenschap, waardoor ze nog meer naar elkaar toe trekken en steun bij elkaar proberen te vinden.

Je krijgt in dit boek geen achtergrondinformatie mee over het kamp, niets over van welke oorlogszone er gevlucht wordt, wel een hint dat het in Soedan zou zijn, en dat er een hulporganisatie rondloopt die goederen uitdeelt, en die evenals de lokale overheid de vluchtelingen hun eigen initiatieven ontzeggen. Alsof enkel de liefdadigheid hen in leven zou houden. De verhalen van het dagelijkse leven, de zorgen, de liefdes en de verlangens van de personages die erin rondlopen moeten voldoen, en er wordt al eens van perspectief gewisseld, o.a. van een vrouwelijk naar een mannelijk en terug. Daardoor krijgt het boek een fragmentarisch en dissociatief, en ook wat mysterieus karakter. Dit kenschetst tegelijkertijd het leven van vluchtelingen, die zelf nooit het gevoel hebben van vaste grond onder de voeten te hebben.

Door de onsamenhangende, maar ook harde gebeurtenissen in het kamp en wat de mensen er allemaal meemaken, moet je het boek soms wel opzij leggen, en nodigt het misschien niet altijd uit om het snel in zijn geheel uit te lezen. Dat doet echter niets af aan de kracht van het verhaal. Integendeel: het is meeslepend en indrukwekkend en net daardoor mondjesmaat behapbaar. Naast de armoedige situatie die ertoe leidt dat het voor de inwoners van het kamp vooral belangrijk is te overleven en levensmiddelen belangrijk zijn, valt het op dat ook seks, intimiteit en verlangen een belangrijk facet zijn in een vluchtelingenkamp, waar slechts zelden wordt op ingezoomd, en ook gewoon des mensen.

Addonia kan zich enorm goed inleven in de emoties van de jonge Saba, die zich in het kamp moet overgeven aan de conservatieve tradities van haar mee gevluchte medeburgers en zich op zichzelf terugplooien. Daardoor is deze roman eveneens sterk feministisch omdat de verteller die fameuze ongelijkheid in het licht zet, evenals de kracht van de vrouw viert die haar droom nog steeds probeert na te jagen. Saba wordt een volwassen vrouw in het kamp waar ze geconfronteerd wordt met de gebruiken waaronder opgroeiende meisjes nog steeds lijden in erg traditionele gemeenschappen: de ondergeschikte rol van de vrouw, genitale verminking, tot zelfs uitgehuwelijkt worden. Gelukkig heeft ze wel haar broer en ook een vriendin waarop ze kan rekenen.

Addonia schrijft sensitief en beeldend, en heeft een rijk taalgebruik. Hij toont aan wat het is om geen thuis of toekomst meer te hebben en hoe in een chaotisch en hectisch vluchtelingenkamp te overleven. Ook door de Nederlandse vertaling van Irwan Droog heen klinkt Addonia’s stem helder en duidelijk en roept hij ons op om steeds naar de mens te kijken achter de vluchteling.

[Abbie | ab_reads · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars
Thank you to @theindigopress for gifting me this copy of Silence is My Mother Tongue by Sulaiman Addonia!
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This book centres around a group of refugees in a refugee camp, and explores the dynamics of such a place, addressing themes of sexism, ableism and sexuality. There were some absolutely beautiful passages concerning sexuality, and I love how the main character Saba takes control of her own desires and needs!
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I do think though, that the author has a bit of a problem with telling instead of showing. Two characters will have a meaningful exchange or interaction, and although the message is clear, there’ll then be a clarifying sentence to explain the moral, which sort of undermines the impact. It can even come across as a bit patronising, as if the reader can’t figure out from context what’s being put across.
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But Addonia’s own experiences in a refugee camp definitely shine through, I think he nails the atmosphere, and I also enjoyed his portrayal of LGBTQ+ characters in an environment where it’s taboo. Very compelling!
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And again, I have to reiterate how beautifully written a lot of passages are, which (at the risk of sounding patronising myself here) is even more commendable given that the author learned English as a foreign language as a teenager!

[Erik · Rating 3 out of 5]

Silence Is My Mother Tongue is a moving story of bucking the traditions that tie us in place.

Saba and her family are refugees in a camp just across the border from Eritrea, a country torn apart by civil war. Her brother, Hagos, is mute, but she finds herself united with him as she pursues her dream to become a doctor. But the traditions of her culture, which insist on women serving few, specified roles, are constantly checking and challenging the ways in which she lives and fights for Hagos.

Sulaiman Addonia is a skilled storyteller and Silence Is My Mother Tongue proves that but the book itself feels slow. The story is important, though, and worth the read.

[Shealea]

Will not finish. Gave up at Chapter 12 of 36 (3 hours, 29 minutes left).

Silence Is My Mother Tongue traverses and dissects queerness, femininity, and ableism in the larger fabric of an East African refugee camp. It offers a provocative narrative about war, desire, survival, and most of all, relationships. I think it is an important and profound story that's very much worth telling.

A central theme of this book is a young girl's sexuality. Saba's body is repeatedly explored in a hugely intimate way. And while her sexual awakening was beautiful to witness, there were a handful of scenes that felt a little too invasive and "male gaze"-y for my comfort. There's also a lot of explicit content involving sexual assault and torture that I personally was not prepared for.

Of course, this is just my own personal feelings of discomfort - and is not indicative of the quality or "morality" of this book. Should you choose to pick up Silence Is My Mother Tongue, I highly advise that you brace yourself because the prose tends to be unapologetically graphic/explicit. Take care of yourself, fellow reader.

[Rachel Louise Atkin · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. I wasn't sure about this as first but the more I listened to it, it grew on me and I really liked it by the end. This book is about a brother and sister who are in a refugee camp. The brother is a mute and all the sister can think about is missing out on her education - she desperately wants to return to school so she can go to university and become a doctor.

The refugee camp is horribly dominated by toxic masculinity and the men decide how everything is run there. This book is completely rife with depictions of sexism, abuse, misogyny and harassment. It is a hard book to read for these reasons but I always think that if it's hard for me to read it, imagine how much harder it is for the women in these situations to be living through it.

Saba was such an amazing character to read about and she always stood up for herself and rebelled against what was expected of her, never mind the cost from her mother, family and the community around her. She was smart and overly-protective of her brother which in some ways is her downfall, but she is such a complex and layered character that I really felt came off the page. I don't think I'd read any Sudanese literature before but I'm really glad I listened to this book as it was a really great read and by the end I felt super immersed in it. If you feel as though you would be able to read about some of the themes in it then I would definitely recommend this book.

[Dee Mutung'a · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really wanted to love this book, the title i fell in love with, the premise I enjoyed, the delivery, not so much.

There are passages in the book that make you stop and ponder but as much as I believe anyone can write any story, I feel the impact of culture on Saba would have been better expressed by a woman. My two cents.

[Azeeza · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved it!!!! I loved the writing style which I had to read slowly because there’s something about it that forces you to pay attention, to let it sink in. I loved how the author wrote his female characters and I loved the story!!!

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a few chapters to get into this book, as I was irritated by the explicit detail given to his/her surroundings, until the same reason I was initially irritated is what made the book completely immersive. Each time I picked it back up to read, I referred to it as going back into the camp.

A beautiful insight into life in a Sudanese refugee camp, where people hold onto their traditions and culture, their dreams and desires.

I loved how, even though the book had moments of distress and violence, it remained tender and sensual throughout.

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gorgeous and complicated, almost unbearably painful at times because it doesn't compromise on the truth of human cruelty, but also depicts a world full of many gentle, generous people. The sense of dreams being crushed and the lives wasting in the refugee camp is huge, but resilience and creativity still emerges, nonetheless.

[Ka Vee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Een boek dat veel meer aandacht moet krijgen. Prachtig in z'n gruwelijkheid.....

[Kamila Kunda · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took Sulaiman Addonia several years to write “Silence Is My Mother Tongue” but it was worth the wait. I adored his first novel “The Consequences of Love” so much that I interviewed him in London for the literary magazine I used to run and still remember our conversation fondly. I bought his second book some time ago but let it wait on my shelf before I finally devoted all my attention to it. It’s a beautifully written and constructed novel about love - not only between people, but love for life.

Addonia is Eritrean-Ethiopian-British and was raised by his grandmother in a refugee camp in Sudan before he moved to Saudi Arabia and later to the UK. His novel takes place among Eritrean and Ethiopian refugees in a Sudanese refugee camp and is dedicated to his playmates - girls he himself played with in the camp. Saba, the main protagonist, the fierce, independently thinking, resilient girl, constantly fights to be herself and free herself from prejudices of others - for herself and her mute, gay brother Hagos. She is a fighter: “All women are fighters, said Zahra. It is just that we fight different wars”. Zahra is right. The novel, being a deeply feminist one, addresses patriarchy, the need for traditions to change, the need to start thinking for oneself. There is a poignant exchange between one Ethiopian who says: “I am a man of my time, and in our time, we treated women like goddesses”. “Just treat us like human beings, said the grandmother, and that would solve the world’s problems”. Indeed, Addonia put wise words into her mouth and the mouths of many of his female characters.

There is so much sensuality in the novel, so much hunger for life, for passion, for human connection that dispels all fears and inhibitions. I loved it dearly and I savoured tenderness that Addonia translated into words and words into stories. This is a novel to cherish

[The Book · Rating 1 out of 5]

Most of this book is a prime example of why men shouldn't write as women, especially not as a traumatised teenager living in a refugee camp. You'd think there would be a rich emotional landscape, but no - Saba, for much of the book, is more or less reduced to purple scarred thighs, her vagina and for at least half of the book we can't seem to get through more than two chapters without her masturbating. Oh, and let's not forget that although she's been raped, she is in no way fazed by men following her through the camp in the dark.

Like, really? REALLY?

The final few chapters were a little better, but honestly, the irony of a grandmother in the camp telling men to treat women as human beings was too much when for the majority of this book, the author treats Saba as a walking vagina (who is weirdly emotionless except for when it comes to her brother) and not much more.

[lilias · Rating 2 out of 5]

The downside of Silence Is My Mother Tongue was that it was heavy with the male gaze. I wanted everyone to leave Saba alone, to give her some peace for once, including the author, Sulaiman Addonia. The book is heavy enough on its own, quite frankly too heavy with this added obsessed with Saba’s body.

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mooi verhaal over het leven van een jonge vrouw in een vluchtelingenkamp en patriarchale samenleving. Heftige thema's zoals seksueel misbruik, vrouwenbesnijdenis, komen indringend aan bod zonder dat de schrijver zich genoodzaakt voelt in detail te treden en zonder dat het boek in z'n geheel te zwaar wordt. De hoofdpersoon is een slachtoffer, maar verliest nergens haar 'agency' en wordt dus niet eenzijdig in die rol gedrukt. Af en toe bijna poëtisch en fragmentatrisch geschreven. Het einde was mooi maar wat te vluchtig afgerond, waardoor Saba's laatste besluit niet overtuigend over komt.

[Sarah-Hope · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm having a difficult time writing this review. On the one hand, Sulaiman Addonia's Silence Is My Mother Tongue is an essential piece of writing documenting life in a refugee camp. On the other hand, it's a hard read. Reading it flat out hurts: the violence, the misogyny, the endless series of sexual assaults. I am usually good with dark titles when I see their underlying purpose. And I see the undelying purpose of this novel, but couldn't get past the darkness—which is as much about my personal weaknesses as it is about the book itself.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Global Read Challenge 75: Eritrea

This is a hard book to rate. The writing is really good and really engaging. I would absolutely read another book by this author. However, there were some parts where it was just really clear that it was a male writer writing a female protagonists. There ware a lot of really intimate descriptions of female bodies and experiences that read as lecherous or male gazey as opposed to being from Saba's perspective. Also, I didn't get the point of Jamal as a character.

[Pretty_x_bookish · Rating 4 out of 5]

The definition of sensuous writing...what an absolute treat.

[Sookie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eritrea is in middle of war and Saba wants to go to school and study medicine. When war arrives at her doorstep, her mother clutches her twins to her bosom and escapes violence. They are deposited in a Sudanese border town that has a refugee camp set up where those who are dispossessed arrive from various parts of Eritrea (and Ethiopia also). Saba is surprised at this - to see various ethnic groups of her country piled together in an alien land. She is young, used to certain level of independence and access to her own dreams but in refugee camp, she realizes the compromises she has to make, the lack of access to basic amenities they needed. Saba considered education also as a basic needed - just like food and water. How else would we build our country when we go back, without continuing our education? she asks multiple people. Either she gets responses that are dismissive of her presence or those that lack depth of her perception.

With constant disappointment seeping into her skin like the blaring Sudanese sun, she adapts into the life of the camp, watches as her body changes and the way the eyes of men and women around her changes accordingly. Addonia provides multiple perspectives of Saba - from that of a leery man to a old midwife, the camp bar woman and the man who would become her husband when she is no more than seventeen. Through their eyes we see Saba grow, her thirst for the world grow along and the fear of unable to change her future slowly grabbing at her ankles.

There is silence in her twin, a mute boy who loves his sister. There is silence in her when there is accusation of cheating. There is silence when one man lies with another after beating his own wife. There is silence when the dispossessed ask for better rations, more space and better healthcare. There is silence from aide workers, the elders, the mothers, the aunties and the uncles when a young girl is beaten and made to carry a rapist on her back because she "seduced" him and for that she was punished. The world is complex, Saba realizes, and in her heart the will to learn never wavers.

The third act of the book and its ending stumbles a little however its rewarding experience nonetheless.

[Kylie · Rating 4 out of 5]

read around the world Eritrea: subversive story of gender sexuality and how we see and hear the people around us. two siblings in a refugee camp in sudan struggle to stay together with different dreams and different ways of loving

[Aisha · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is where we start. With Saba, a young woman on trial, accused of sexual misconduct against her older disabled brother Hagos. The sweet-smelling, thigh-burning, Midwife believes they're too close, and their performance of gender roles unnaturally reversed. Nevermind that this is exile, in a Sudanese refugee camp, far from war-torn Asmara. The guardians of culture and tradition insist on preserving violent patriarchal norms.

Beautiful, subversive and sensual. It paints a vivid picture of the mundane nature of life in a refugee camp. Wake up; queue up for food; listen to false promises from Western Aid workers. Maybe this week healthcare workers visit and prescribe everyone one pill to cure all and any illnesses; maybe they don't see everyone; entertain your self in the limited ways that you can. And on and on it goes.

It is also an unconventional and unexpected yet tender portrayal of queerness. Hagos, though mute is not silent. From dressing Saba as the woman he wishes he could be, to his paintings, he speaks with or without his sister. Saba must be punished to fix her, still, each time after she reclaims ownership of her mind and body.

I was on the fence, waiting with trepidation, the catch, after all, it's a man writing women full of sensual undertones. And there are some awkward bumps but overall this is sensitive and full of depth. The characters are complex and even the ones performing the functions of preserving the toxic are not one note.

There is some beautiful writing but it can be confusing, so slow down savour the sentences. I know someone said it does more showing than telling, but honestly, I couldn't tell with prose so evocative and incendiary. If I have one critique, it's the ending, I don't condone the use of a sacrificial lamb, even though I understand that it is probably realistic.

[sameera · Rating 4 out of 5]

edit: will give this book 3.5 stars, but rounding up for goodreads' sake.
not entirely sure on how I should rate this book, so for now I’ll give it 4 stars. The author writes in a way that is sure to have an impact on you, and I particularly liked the way that the writing exposed the hypocrisy and double standards of traditional culture. I wasn’t really too keen on reading the more explicit parts of the book, but at the same time noted it’s value in exploring the impacts of a sexually repressive society on women’s bodies. Another thing that I realised 3/4 into reading: there are no speech marks, at all. I thought this was an interesting way to both write and read the book, and it certainly added to the importance of silence that both permeated the novel and gave it its name.

[Neel Lohit · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am not sure how I feel about this book. Some part of it is beautifully written. And it's a deeply feminist book with the gender roles almost reversed between Saba and her brother Hagos. But mostly it's a book about desire, which manifests itself in almost every chapter. Either it could have been a book about the celebration of desire even in the most stifling of circumstances, like living in a refugee camp or it could have been a story of liberation from the most adverse of circumstances using whatever means available. But in the end it became somewhere stuck in between in my opinion.

[elisabook · Rating 5 out of 5]

"They were empty of things to say to each other. And Saba wondered how the camp took one's language too as if it was flesh attached to bones."

4.5. Beautifully and poetically written and evocative of life in a refugee camp. Mixed feelings about some of the sexualisation and the Hagos POV, but this a rich and authentic novel that does not shy away from discomfort.

[Sujoya - theoverbookedbibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5⭐