La bastarda

by Trifonia Melibea Obono

La protagonista, Okomo, una adolescente de etnia fang, atrapada en un sistema de valores que no le permite desarrollar su personalidad, se anima a emprender la búsqueda de su progenitor, cuya identidad le ocultan sus mayores. El viaje la llevará a recorrer su país, en el que se encontrará con las secuelas del colonialismo aún vigentes. En su camino, conocerá a otros personajes que, como ella, se rebelan contra las convenciones sociales y con quienes vivirá experiencias que la transformarán para siempre.La obra, que contiene información sociológica y antropológica de primera mano, es un relato valiente y directo sobre el conflicto entre la estructura familiar y las creencias ancestrales de los fang y los deseos de libertad de las nuevas generaciones en el África subsahariana.

Genres: Fiction, LGBT, Africa, Queer, Equatorial Guinea, Feminism, Contemporary

117 pages, Paperback

First published September 1, 2016

About the author

Trifonia Melibea Obono (Equatorial Guinea, 1982) is a journalist and political scientist, as well as a professor and researcher on women and gender in Africa. She has been a professor in the literature and social sciences faculty of the UNGE (National University of Equatorial Guinea) in Malabo since 2013 and is part of the team of the Afro-Hispanic Studies Center of the UNED. She is finishing her PhD in interdisciplinary studies in gender and equality at the University of Salamanca. She has contributed to numerous national and foreign publications, and is the author of two novels, Herencia de bindendee (Ediciones del Auge, 2016) and La bastarda (Flores Raras, 2016), the latter of which is forthcoming from The Feminist Press in 2018, translated by Lawrence Schimel. "The Indecency Club" is an extract from La Bastarda.

Reviews

[leynes · Rating 1 out of 5]

No, no and three times no. This is one of the most lacklustre novels I have ever read. Granted, some of the underlying ideas and themes are interesting and important but the execution was A MESS! I am honestly appalled. This book could've used an editor or two. It honestly reads like a first draft.

The book tells the story of Okomo, an orphan who was born “a bastarda”, and lives in a traditional village in Equatorial Guinea. She is forced to confront her culture's attitudes on gender roles, requirements for women to have sex for the purpose of reproduction at the direction of men, and sexuality. Sounds great, right? That's why I picked it up ... and it was such a disappointment.

There are so many things that I didn't enjoy that I don't even know where to start. The pacing was off which isn't all that surprising because La Bastarda is only 90 pages long. For such a short novel way too many things happen, and they happen way too quickly. The most annoying example of this is the insta-love between Okomo and Dina. Within 24 hours of truly interacting with each other FOR THE FIRST TIME, the two of them have sex (...in an orgy, but we'll get to that later) and FALL IN LOVE. I kid you not:

O: “I only love you. I don’t like the others.”
D: “You made love with them this morning.”
O: “Yes, but I don’t want to do it again. I just want to be with you.”
D: “I don’t know. I’m sure it will cause problems. Linda and Pilar won’t accept it. The two of them are in love with me.”
O: “And you … who … I mean, who do you love?”
D: “ I didn’t know until today. I love you.”

Okay, first of all, this dialogue IS A MESS. Who talks like that??? And it doesn't make you feel anything. (But we'll get to the bad writing in a second.) But more importantly, how can you claim to be in love with someone you just met? I hate it here.

The ending felt rushed as hell too. Spoilers ahead btw! Basically at the end of the book, Linda and Pilar out Okomo and Dina out of jealousy for their special bond. Therefore, Okomo outs them as well. (Linda and Pilar's plan really was the fucking worst because they had so much to lose as well and should've foreseen this ... I can't.) As punishment, all of the girls are married off against their will, basically sold, and it even comes out that one of the girls was pregnant from her father who raped and molested her since she was a child (which was also the reason why he killer her mother because she caught him one day ... like WOAH there's a lot to unpack here, but it's only mentioned in a subclause as if it were nothing), and Okomo is sent away to live with her aunt.

We then learn that all of the girls managed to flee to the forest where they now live with Marcelo and his partner, creating a family for themselves. EXCUSE ME??? All of them managed to escape? How? When? Why is no one looking for them? How will they be able to sustain themselves in this forest? It's such a dumb ending because nothing is resolved. Like I said, it's rushed as hell and therefore, makes no sense.

The writing was awful as well. It's been a long time since I've been as appalled by such a bad writing style. It's not just that Obono's language (at least in translation) is nothing special (that's fine ... we can't all be Gloria Naylor) but her writing was so on the noooooose, it made me tear my hair out. Instead of showing us things, Obono only tells them. And she explained every little thing, as if her readers were to dumb to grasp the significance of certain events or facts. Therefore, the writing felt extremely clunky and over-written. One example (that I would've enjoyed had the delivery been better) illustrates this in particular: Okomo, when talking to her gay uncle, learns that the word for gay men in Fang culture is "man-woman". When she wants to know what the word for lesbian is, he tells her that no such word exist. That could've been a powerful moment. But instead of letting her readers draw their own conclusion about how this linguistic exclusion renders lesbians invisible in Fang culture, Obono has to explain it to us:

Okomo: “We don’t even have a name.”
Jesusín: “But isn’t that worse? If you don’t have a name, you’re invisible, and if you’re invisible, you can’t claim any rights. Besides, the offensive label man-woman implies disdain toward women. It reduces them to passive sexual objects that never act on their own desires. Think about it.”

Ugh, we get it. This dialogue feels so artificial and contrived. It's especially bad because the characters usually don't talk to each other in that manner, so it becomes even more clear that that was a passage that was only written with the reader in mind. It feels like Obono wanted to show off that she understands the intersections of gender and sexuality. The dialogue just feels so forced and doesn't flow well at all.

Another example is when Okomo is sent to her aunt and observes: “It was obvious that my aunt wouldn’t understand my sexual desires, and so, with my arrival, she began to make plans.” Why 16-year-old talks like that? Again, I don't disagree with any of the messages or the content of these statements but the delivery is just off.

And there are so many other things that simply just annoyed me. All of the characters in this book were flat as hell. And therefore, they didn't feel real and I didn't care for them one bit. You either had these very evil oppressive homophobic people (basically Okomo's entire family except for her gay uncle Marcelo), very jealous people (mostly Linda and Pilar) and then good progressive people (Okomo herself, uncle Marcelo, Dina, Okomo's dead mother ...). And it was boring as hell. There was no character development whatsoever. Another thing that irked me out was the underlying message that most of the adult characters who were deemed progressive were the ones who had been educated in the West (in Spain) or spent some time there. It's such a weird message because homophobia and sexism is still rampant in Western societies as well. And on top of that, beliefs such as homophobia were literally "imported" to African countries, Equatorial Guinea, included through colonisation and missionary work, but that is never touched upon in this book. I'm not saying that Fang people cannot be homophobic as hell, it just seems weird that only the "Westernised" adults were progressive.

Another, maybe minor, thing I didn't enjoy was that Obono (or at least in translation) referred to the Fang people as a "tribe" when they literally make up 85% of Equatorial Guinea's population and do not fit the descriptors of a "tribe" at all. Therefore, the book also had many over-generalisations when it came to Fang people and it made me very uncomfortable.

And, unfortunately, Obono also couldn't make me care about this oppressive atmosphere in Okomo's village. Because she again just showed it by very cliché statements of her characters, e.g. her grandfather saying “I am a man, I make the decisions here.”, or her grandmother telling her “A woman has to be beautiful. And never ask questions.”, it just felt kinda cheap. Like, the delivery could've been much better and much more meaningful.

Two more things that irked me out (and then I'll stop, I promise) are the fact that the first sex scene between Okomo and the girls was basically coerced because Okomo did not give her consent! When the girls take Okomo to the woods, they start undressing each other and making out without any warning (which is already weird as hell ... why would you do that in front of a person that you barely know and therefore, don't know if you can trust). When they invite Okomo to join in, she says “No, I can’t.” but the girls won't stop offering her to join in but Okomo still “shakes her head”. Then the girls simply stand up, Dina starts kissing Okomo and the other two girls undress her (OKOMO STILL HASN'T GIVEN HER CONSENT TO THIS), and Okomo then thinks “I couldn’t refuse a third time.” BUT STILL DOESN'T COMMUNICATE WITH THE GIRLS??? I just hate that trope. So often, especially in romance books, scenes like this happen where one character clearly doesn't give consent but when the other character just starts pleasuring (HARASSING!) them, they are overcome by desire. I HATE IT! The girls should've stayed in their lane and not coerce Okomo into having an orgy with them. I'm sorry. That scene pissed me off.

Another thing that rubbed me the wrong way is that despite its underlying feminist message, the book had no sympathy for the older female characters, especially Okomo's grandmother and her "rival" (the second wife of her husband). The grandmother's feelings were constantly ridiculed and we didn't get any exploration of how she, in her polygynous relationship, is also oppressed and dependent on her husband, who is abusive as fuck btw. At one point, we learn that he even gave her a venereal disease because he kept sleeping around with prostitutes. But instead of explaining that to her, he just lets her disease progress, so that when they have no other option but to go to the hospital, the disease has already rendered her grandmother sterile. Instead of coming clean to her, the grandfather just takes a new wife because he needs sons. Like, that's so fucking crazy, and yet all this book does is portray her grandmother in this crazy evil light, and there was no nuance at all.

Anyways, the afterword by Abosede George is the only good thing about this book. In it, she explores the great potential this book had. I mean, it was the first novel coming from Equatorial Guinea that talked about homosexuality. [The book is still banned in that country btw.] And, albeit in a premature manner, Obono does confront gender norms and the invisibility of gay people in the work, and she negotiates these very important themes in an African context.

One thing that Abosede George explained in the afterword that really stuck with me is how the book challenges the notion of what “African” as, as “African-ness” is often tied with reproduction and siring children. However, Obono suggests that it is the “real” Africa that produces people like Marcelo, Jesusín, Dina, Pilar, Linda and Okomo. It is significant at the end, when they decide to be each other’s family, that Okomo and her friends do not run away to the anonymity of the city but deeper into the embrace of the forest. For them, the forest is a place of refuge, it is “a free space”. The ending, had it not been rushed and had the setup been better, could've been extremely powerful!

So, in conclusion: great ideas, awful execution!

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The first novel by an Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English, La Bastarda is the story of the orphaned teen Okomo, who lives under the watchful eye of her grandmother and dreams of finding her father. Forbidden from seeking him out, she enlists the help of other village outcasts: her gay uncle and a gang of “mysterious” girls reveling in their so-called indecency. Drawn into their illicit trysts, Okomo finds herself falling in love with their leader and rebelling against the rigid norms of Fang culture."

This is a quick read but immediately immerses you into the Fang cultural expectations through Okomo's eyes, because she has so many limitations beyond her control. I had to do some reading about Equatorial Guinea, and I think my first surprise was that the novel was translated from the Spanish! The fighting between wives was also reminiscent of The First Wife by Paulina Chiziane.

La Bastarda was on the Over the Rainbow list from ALA last year, but since I was a non-fiction judge I didn't get to it until now. So I have a copy from the publisher, somewhere, but I ended up reading it in Hoopla (mea culpa.)

[Raul · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

This novella is the first book by an Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English. It's a very important book, one that tells the story of Okomo, a girl living with her grandparents since the death of her mother and who searches for her father, having been branded "la bastarda" for being born out of wedlock, and finding a place for herself as a lesbian in a society that reacts to her identity by either cloaking it with invisibility and ignoring its existence or trying to change it through violence.

The plots to books as short as this one can't really be discussed without giving too much away. However this was a fantastic read exploring gender norms, sexism, homophobia and community.

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This reads like a fairytale or myth and works very well! At first I thought that I agreed with those reviewers who wished that the characters, story, setting, etc. were given more detail, and that could have made for an excellent (and longer) book as well, but also different. There is balance in the elements as they are and clear focus on the author’s themes of queerness, family, and the burden of tradition in Fang society. I think this is an excellent novella.

[verbava · Rating 4 out of 5]

незаміжня мама головної героїні померла під час пологів; самій героїні пощастило менше, і її забрала на виховання мамина рідня. ну, як на виховання: байстрючки створені для того, щоб використовувати їх на господарстві, доки не підростуть, а потім продати заміж. у дівчинки, щоправда, трохи інші прагнення і є дядько, який її розуміє і підтримує, але дядько — гей, тому його звинувачують у посухах і пошестях (із усіма наслідками, на які здатна розлючена громада, яка знайшла собі цапа-відбувайла), а вихоплювати можливості для спілкування з ним стає дедалі складніше.

вибори перед героїнею стоять похмурі. утім, якщо суспільство хоче тебе зв'язати й обскубати, може, варто втекти на його маргінеси, зате лишитися відносно цілою; і якщо тебе й так планують продати, може, краще продаватися самій, на відносно своїх умовах. аж не дивно, що роман забанений в екваторіальній гвінеї, звідки походить авторка: дуже вже прозоро він натякає, що, може, традиційне суспільство, патріархат, полігамія, забобони й об'єктивація жінок не такі хороші, як традиційному суспільству здається, а гомосексуальність — не така погана.

[Maddie C. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to like this. La Bastarda: A Novel is a small novella by an author who is the first Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English, which is why it pains me to give it a less than favorable rating and review. I debated a lot on wheter or not I should even do it, so I should preface by saying: the act of translating women, especially from coloured backgrounds who don't get enough recognition, should continue to be a priority in the publishing industry. Feminist Press is doing an amazing job at this and I urge everyone to browse their page and find a title that interests you. Unfortunately, La Bastarda didn't work for me as a piece of literature, but the themes it discusses are extremely important and should be addressed more often. Also, the afterword for this is magnifient and it discusses a lot of what I could cover here, so I won't extend myself, else I would just reproduce a lot of what it says.

In this, we follow a girl named Okomo, a member of the Fang tribe who is struggling to adhere to the tribe's traditions after she discovers she can't really abide by them. This is a coming-of-age story that challenges rigid tradition and the notion of "Africanness", as well as the discovery of one's sexuality and the quest to live with it in freedom.

I found the writing to be very stiff, the structure awkward and the pacing rushed. This is, after all, a novella, but that in on itself is not enough to justify the weird pacing of the story, the abruptness not only of the ending but the entirety of the novel. There is no time to develop the characters, who lack depth and seem to be there just to represent one facet: traditional or subversive, abiding by the laws or rejecting the tribe completely.

Overall, I thought the novella tried to tackle a lot but its lenght prevented it from going deep into topics that would have otherwise made this an incredible discovery: we only get a taste for the Fang's culture and only get to know the characters very superficially.

[Mbali (flowahh_) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Phew 🥺

As a student of literature, who is aware of the effects of colonialism on our continents literary culture, this novella brings such joy to my heart. Sometimes I love a book because it made me cry or scream or whatever and at times it’s simply because I’m glad that it exists. Not only did I take a short trip to Equitorial Guinea but I was taken there by way of the first novel by an Equitorial Guinean woman to be translated into English. And to top it off, it’s a tale that centres queer people.

La Bastarda, is the story of Okomo, a teen orphan who lives with her grandmother and has dreams of finding her father (despite her grandma forbidding her to do so). But does she listen? No 💀 instead she decides to ask for help from the village outcasts: her gay uncle and a gang of “mysterious” girls 👀.

The book is fast paced (maybe too fast paced? you might feel like you’re missing out on something?), it’s straight-forward but you’re immediately immersed in the Fang culture and are made aware of its rigid norms. Then in comes Okomo, with her rebellious ways. Obono actually touches on quite a few topics in this 90 page book, but I’d like to focus on one.

The importance of community. The “outcasts” end up creating a safe space for themselves. There’s this feeling of rootedness, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of hope that I appreciated - a reminder of how a little care and consideration goes a long way.

[may ➹ · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars

The best and worst part about books being short… is that they are short…

This was an interesting exploration of family and community—I really love how the book portrayed the idea that heterosexuality and patriarchy are violent, versus the welcoming nature of a queer community. (I especially really liked reading the afterword that went into more depth about the book!) However, it was way too fast-paced for me. I can understand the overarching message of the book, but it’s hard to fully appreciate it when the characters it applies to are barely developed.

:: representation :: Fang cast, lesbian MC and characters, gay characters

:: content warnings :: rape & sexual assault, incest, homophobia, attempted murder, misogyny

[Stacia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first book from a female in Equatorial Guinea to be translated into English. The story is told by 16-year-old Okomo about life in her small village as part of the Fang people (part of the Bantu ethnic group), the rigid gender & sexuality roles, & Okomo's struggles both being being a part of the structure while also pushing to break free. It comes across simplistically, episodically, similar to some YA books, which fits as it reflects the perspective of the young narrator. Asymptote has a good review of it by Parker Brookie. Electric Lit also has a short interview with the author: How Do You Advocate for LGBTQ Rights When Your Culture Has No Word for Gay? I'd probably give the story itself 3 stars but will give it 4 for challenging the status quo & gender norms. A good read for Women in Translation Month as well as one for those seeking LGBTQIA2S+ books.

Also, random fact when I was looking up things about the author, Equatorial Guinea, etc. -- while the book itself used the term Equatorial Guinean (which is what I would use too) for someone from there, a common version I found online is Equatoguinean. Which just seems like a lovely & pleasing word to me.

[Laurie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought this novella packed quite a punch in a short space. Okomo is a seventeen year old girl who lives in a very remote part of Equatorial Guinea. She is the daughter of an unwed mother who died at birth, and she has never been told who her father is, hence the designation of being a bastarda. Okomo has been raised by her grandparents and now that she is of a marriageable age and physically able to bear children, she is being pushed to find a husband. The problem is that Okomo is attracted to a girl in her village.

While this novella certainly tackles the issue of a young woman's burgeoning homosexual feelings, the bigger issue for Okomo is the expectation that real Africans have babies. To be a woman, one must have babies and to be a real man, one must produce a male heir. Okomo's gay uncle, Marcelo, is seen as failing the family and causing all kinds of bad luck to the entire clan because he refuses to impregnate the wife of his sterile cousin. It is imperative that he help save the family name by giving the daughter-in-law of the patriarch a baby. Marcelo is not seen as a man by the entire village, not entirely because he is gay, but also because he won't have children.

This was so short and the ending has a kind of ridiculous fairytale quality that doesn't go with the seriousness of the rest of the story. But tackling two thorny issues in a short work was fairly effective, and I look forward to reading more by this author if any is translated.

[Apurva Nagpal · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5⭐️
Set in Equatorial Guinea, La Bastarda by Trifonia Melibea Obono (translated from Spanish by Lawrence Schimel) is a coming of age story of Okomo, an orphan who was born a bastard, her mother died during childbirth and all she knows about her father is that he’s a “scoundrel”, as her grandparents keep telling her. She lives in a small traditional village with her grandparents and keep pestering them with questions about her father and why he hasn’t been around.
As a part of the Fang tribe she grew up in, she’s often found it difficult to follow their norms about gender roles that restrict the purposes of a man and woman to specific duties, where women are taught that their role in sex is solely to reproduce and not desire.
With the help of her uncle Marcelo, a “woman-man” as they call him and a gang of girls from the “Indecency club”, she finds herself longing for a freedom and love she hasn’t known, the kind that that has no place according to the Fang tradition.
.
This is the first novel by an Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English and I really liked how the author packed so much in this short book! The history of Fang culture in Africa, challenging it by exploring sexuality, LGBTQ representation and the violence they face for not adhering to the norms. Through her characters, she breaks the rigidity of gender and the rules that bind them.

My only qualm is with the format of the book; it felt a little choppy and rushed in a lot of places and lacked flow. I would’ve loved for the characters to get some more space to grow and read about them with so much going with and around them.
The afterword by Abosede George was really informative about background for the story and characters and I really enjoyed reading this overall!
I give this 3.5/5 and recommend it for the writing!

Also a great pick for Women in Translation month!

[Yoel Isaac Diaz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Novela corta, lenguaje sencillo, pero una historia resonante. Disfrute la lectura de esta novelera que nos traslada a un escenario y lugar del que se encuentra poca literatura. El tema de la homosexualidad femenina se trata desde la óptica de una adolescente sin madre y padre que entra en conflicto con la tradición y las expectativas de su comunidad de la etnia fang en Guinea Ecuatorial, justo en el momento en que empieza a descubrirse a si misma. Ojalá la historia hubiera ahondado un poco mas en los temas y los personajes. Pero aun así, es una excelente carta de presentación de este país (para mi prácticamente desconocido) y de esta autora de la que ojalá continuemos leyendo en el futuro.

[Lisa · Rating 1 out of 5]

it discussed some important themes but the way it was written just reminded me of very badly written fanfictions. the feminism felt very forced, too direct, it just wasn't an enjoyable read

[Grace · Rating 2 out of 5]

Around the World Reading Challenge: EQUATORIAL GUINEA
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2.5 rounded down

I really wanted to love this book, especially given it deals with queer themes in an African country and is written by a Black woman author, but it just didn't work for me. The prose is really choppy and felt really simplistic and distracting, which I tried to get past/give the benefit of the doubt since I know this is a translation, but it really didn't meld well for me. And it might have been fine if not for the story and the pacing, which felt quite rushed and sudden. It's a short story, and I do think that maybe if it had been given more space to breath things would have flowed better and it wouldn't have felt so abrupt. I appreciated the happy ending (yay happy endings for queer folks!) and there was some great symbolism throughout, but this didn't quite live up to my hopes for it.

[Nadine in California · Rating 3 out of 5]

This slim book - about a two hour read - is an immersion in Fang culture as seen through the eyes of a Fang teenager named Okomo. Okomo's family and community treat her as 'less than' because she is an orphan, a 'bastarda' (her mother wasn't officially married) and isn't interested in making herself 'pretty' to entice a husband. Her treatment is even worse when she begins to identify herself with gay outcasts. This is my first exposure to Equatorial Guinea, and the Afterward gave me some basic historical and political context, but I still have lots of questions about the norms and values in her community - especially the way traditional Fang culture been changed/adulterated by the experience of colonialism.

[Alyssa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lovely book, easy to read, and very informative.

The 16-year-old protagonist has a lot to learn about the society she lives in. The reader is taken along her journey of growth in identity, as she develops a deeper understanding of her environment (and the people who move within it).

In addition, it was really refreshing to read a book about the inhabitants of Equatorial Guinea.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked up this book as part of a book reading club and I have mixed feelings about it. It is the first book I have read by an author from Equatorial Guinea. A novella that can be read in a couple of hours, it is set in a remote village of said country and tells the story of Okomo, a teenage girl, orphaned and left to live with her maternal grandparents. There are many intertwined themes here - African village tradition vs urban modernism, homosexuality, rape, forced marriage, reproduction as wealth and status, child labour and exploitation. It is a deeply subversive book and therein lies its value - it is the attempt of a young woman to re-establish the balance of power in her life by leaving behind her treacherous authoritarian, ignorant mother's family (the bearers of tradition) and moving in with her gay uncle, who lives in the forest and is a vegan (the breaker of tradition). Although I appreciate and even support its subversiveness, I found there is little room for depth of character and the story feels very bi-dimensional (good vs bad; hetereosexual vs homosexual; man vs woman; village vs forest; old vs young, etc). Obono is, however, an interesting discovery. It is good material for a play.

[Andy Weston · Rating 4 out of 5]

Obono’s short, hundred page, novel is the first from and Equatorial Guinea woman to be translated into English. As well as the absorbing story it tells, it provides an insight into the life of the Fang tribe in remote Guinea.

Okomo is an orphan who lives with her grandparents. At the age of 16 she becomes inquisitive to find out who her father is. Her grandparents are intent on her marrying, the only family member she can relate to is her Uncle Marcelo, himself repressed by village life and the demands of Fang culture. He is expected to impregnate a woman, but due to his lengthy hesitation the villagers have started to call him a ‘man-woman’ and soon he is ostracised to the forest as more question his sexuality.

As she matures Okomo develops feelings for a girl of her age. The bond between her and her uncle strengthens.

These are the 2000s, though the story of a young person becoming aware of their sexuality could easily be one from more developed Western countries from years earlier.

Unique as it is in its heritage, this is a stand out piece of LGBT literature that deserves recognition.

[Java · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am now apart of the Indecency Club.

I simply adore this novella.Though this book is only 100pgs,it speaks of the mistreatment and juxtaposition of not only being a parentless child aka a bastard but also “Man-Woman” a term used by the Fang tribe of Guinea to refer to what most people in today’s time call queerness,yet ,it expounds & affirms that without a doubt same-gender loving people have always existed in Africa.

[Cecelia Blum · Rating 3 out of 5]

lesbian 👍👍

[Charlott · Rating 4 out of 5]

La Bastarda by Tifonia Melinda Obono is the first novel (though maybe rather a novella) by a female Equatorial Guinean author translated into English. This alone is a reason to pay attention, but even more important this is an unapologetic queer book. In slightly less than 90 pages Obono tells the story of Okomo, who lives with her grandparents after her mother had died years ago. Her father is useless, she is told repeatedly, but still, she wants to find him. But then there is also her uncle, whom she loves dearly, but who is shunned by society for not fulfilling their hetero-masculine norms, and the three "mysterious" girls her grandmother warns her about. This book is quite fast-paced and things often happen (a bit too) fast and straight-forward (falling in love, solving conflicts etc). But it also is a hopeful and fun read. Queer people, Obono makes clear, are everywhere (and not only one, but plenty) and have always been.

The book ends with queer people and other outcasts like a disabled sex worker creating their own community deep in the forest, away from the village - but also away from towns or even the possibility of leaving the country. Queer lives are given roots instead, showing them as part of some original landscape and part of a better, caring utopian future to come.

[Amy Biggart · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's more of a 3.5. I really liked the main character Okomo, and the portraits of family life in Equatorial Guinea. There are complex family relationships that I found fascinating. The comment that this book is rushed is correct. Whole plot points were dropped in quickly without any build. This was frustrating because I really enjoyed the way the story was unfolding. But Okomo could have been developed more slowly, or the book could've been longer and this would've worked better. I also think the implication that this is a book about her search for her father is a little misguided. That is the backbone of the story, but it's rarely referenced, and this is not really a book about her found family of friends and her uncle setting off to find her dad. Maybe I misinterpreted the back of the book.

However, this is about a queer found family and I enjoyed that. I just feel like the battle between discussing her family life and the pressures of that and her exploration of her sexuality and relationship with her uncle were in competition for space on a very small amount of pages. And neither one felt fully formed to me. It's too short to really be mad at, but I would've loved an extra 50-75 pages.

[Thabs · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars
A very intriguing addition to the LGBTQ+ African canon!
There were some very pertinent thematic discussions on patriarchy, gender-identity, and the clash between African cultures and queerness which I thoroughly appreciated.

[Rosamund · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a valuable book but not an altogether satisfying read. Obono has a very positive intention about examining the way Fang society rejects queerness and I was interested and engaged by that. I also appreciated the book being set in a small community in the hinterland of Equatorial Guinea. But the plot and character development left me wanting more.

[Jimi (Jimi Can Read) · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very worthwhile read and worth being on the shelf of anyone interested in African literature, queer literature, translated fiction, or short thought-provoking reads.

[qamar⋆｡°✩ · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75☆ — la bastarda is a novella that is tiny, but with a quiet fire in it. it puts us in the perspective of a sixteen-year-old of the fang ethnic group, okomo: a bastarda (or bastard) left orphaned from the death of her mother while giving birth to her and the mysterious disappearance of her father soon after.

the themes touched upon the stifling, patriarchal structure of gender roles, as well as freedom from the restrictions of compulsory heterosexuality. gay men in her tradition are often derogatorily referred to as 'man-women', but lesbians are not referred to at all, in fact there's no word for it and so the nonlesbian characters in the story are also slightly skeptical of such a phenomenon. this also makes it all the more refreshing to see okomo refer to herself directly as a lesbian without any hesitation.

i saw a couple of reviews referring to how unrealistic it was for the characters to fall in love so quickly, after having known each other for less than a day. but honestly, i sort of get it- these girls found each other unexpectedly amongst a deeply queerphobic and misogynistic society, finding refuge in each other as individuals who wished to be free of the restrictions on their gender and sexuality. okomo herself is unsure of her attraction for women at the beginning, but there is an exhilaration as her sexual desires are realised; a feeling of liberation that most people she knows wouldn't experience themselves, or even understand. why would it be so unrealistic to fall in love as a sixteen-year-old who has not known affection of this kind till then, especially when it's this rare?

i cannot speak a lot about this book since it's small enough that i would end up giving the plot away, but i do think that as a novella it ties itself up decently by the end.

this is the first spanish story from equatorial guinea that is about lesbians and also the first story by a woman from equatorial guinea to be translated into english. incidentally, it also happens to be banned from the country. all this is to say that if you're looking for a short and insightful read for women in translation month, then look no further!

[emma cahalan · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

According to the interwebs, this is the first book written by an Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English. It’s also banned in its home country due to its exploration of gender roles and queerness.

It was a very short read, about 90 pages, and didn’t provide a lot of room for discussion of gender roles within Fang culture. However, it did examine the intersectionality of queer identities and un/Africanness, especially within the aftermath of repeated colonization.

I really appreciated how Obono uses the setting to explore the question of unAfricanness. The two major settings within this book are the village and the forest, and as as Abosede George describes, “space doesn’t get more authentically African than this.” Instead of leaning into the stereotypes of what these settings typically imply (ie. village = safety, civilization; forest = evil, chaos, backwards), Obono subverts these tropes. The forest is viewed as a safe space for queer identity as it is the place which produced Marcelo, Dina, Okono, and the rest of the members of the Indecency Club. At the end of the novella, the main characters don’t run away to a larger city in hopes of maintaining anonymity with their queer identities but instead retreat to the forest. In fact, Okomo is told that “Fang forest is a free space. Now you’re free.” This subversion of tropes draws upon the idea that queer identities are a part of being African; to be Queer is to also be African. In a way, this reminds me a lot of Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” in how forests are used as a place of reimagining society.

TW: corrective rape and sexual abuse; misogyny; patriarchal structures; physical abuse; attempted murder of a gay man; forced outing of queer identities

[Anne-Marie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars
While I enjoyed this slim novella (at 88 pages it straddles that line between long short story and short novella), I feel I would have benefited from a class structure or additional support to unpack all of the ideas and themes Obono manages to (mostly) skillfully insert.
I found the Afterword by Abosede George to help with this a bit.

The writing itself is good - fairly stripped back yet full of nuance that I’m sure I barely picked up on. I really enjoyed the characters (especially our teenaged narrator who just wants to figure out herself and meet her father) and the way Obono plays with opposites and what makes a person a “real African” or a “real man/woman” in their Fang village.

I really hope this doesn’t remain one of the few texts published by a female Equatorial Guinean author that also happens to be translated into English. Because I feel like there’s so many great stories just waiting to be told and shared with a broader audience.
And did I mention it’s queer? - with a happy ending for our LGBTQ+ characters to boot.

Not as easily found in stores (though by stroke of luck I picked it up at Drawn & Quarterly in Montreal) so if this sounds like something you’d enjoy, definitely try ordering it online or tracking it down in stores.

[Sookie · Rating 2 out of 5]

the first quarter of book was quite promising - establishing context of a patriarchal society that's just toxic, women reduced to looking pretty and breed, and men just marry more women and expand their family. A sixteen year old orphan girl exists in such a family and in the wake of discovering her sexuality, she is shipped off elsewhere.

after that everything happens...very, very fast. and its all over the place. things don't stitch together and it reads like a montage set in couple of years and not just mere days. the ending was - okay. its all a bit unrealistic so maybe there was an intention for it to be magical fantasy? no idea.

[Wendell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this! A teenager comes of age in Equatorial Guinea and she starts to observe how gender is performed and expected in her tribe. Really short read and has some really sweet and optimistic outlook about chosen family.