No fundo do poço

by Buchi Emecheta, Julia Dantas (Translator)

Adah, a mesma protagonista de Cidadã de segunda-classe, tem que criar e sustentar sozinha os cinco filhos, vivendo no subúrbio de Londres, em um lugar que ela chama de “o fundo do poço”. Tentando manter seu trabalho diário e suas aulas noturnas em busca de um diploma, ela se vê às voltas com o serviço de assistência social, que lhes classifica como “família problema”. É onde Adah encontra uma causa comum com seus vizinhos brancos da classe trabalhadora e sua luta contra um sistema social que parece destinado a oprimir todas as mulheres.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, Nigeria, Classics, African Literature, Drama, Literary Fiction

192 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1972

About the author

Buchi Emecheta OBE was a Nigerian novelist who has published over 20 books, including Second-Class Citizen (1974), The Bride Price (1976), The Slave Girl (1977) and The Joys of Motherhood (1979). Her themes of child slavery, motherhood, female independence and freedom through education have won her considerable critical acclaim and honours, including an Order of the British Empire in 2005. Emecheta once described her stories as "stories of the world…[where]… women face the universal problems of poverty and oppression, and the longer they stay, no matter where they have come from originally, the more the problems become identical."

From 1965 to 1969, Emecheta worked as a library officer for the British Museum in London. From 1969 to 1976 she was a youth worker and sociologist for the Inner London Education Authority, and from 1976 to 1978 she was a community worker.

Following her success as an author, Emecheta travelled widely as a visiting professor and lecturer. From 1972 to 1979 she visited several American universities, including Pennsylvania State University, Rutgers University, the University of California, Los Angeles, and the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

From 1980 to 1981, she was senior resident fellow and visiting professor of English, University of Calabar, Nigeria. In 1982 she lectured at Yale University, and the University of London, as well as holding a fellowship at the University of London in 1986.
From 1982 to 1983 Buchi Emecheta, together with her journalist son Sylvester, ran the Ogwugwu Afor Publishing Company.

(from Wikipedia)

Reviews

[Alwynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Buchi Emecheta featured on Granta’s first list of the best, young British novelists. This is her compulsive, debut novel, from the early 1970s, a semi-autobiographical piece based on her experiences as a Black, single mother in London. It grew out of a regular column published in the leftwing, New Statesman magazine; episodic and strikingly vivid, it follows Adah a Nigerian woman in her mid-20s, recently divorced from her abusive husband, she has five small children. She’s struggling to juggle looking after them while studying at night for a degree.

In 1960s England finding decent accommodation as a Black woman is a challenge, for a Black woman with children it’s almost impossible. When the novel opens, Adah’s trapped in a rat-infested room rented from another Nigerian family who exploit and torment her for daring to complain about dire conditions. So, she’s relieved when the council offer her a temporary flat in a North London mansion block. But the spacious flat is hard to heat, riddled with damp and mould, its paper-thin walls mean she’s scared to even turn on the radio, in case she upsets her intimidating, next-door neighbours. Outside the stairwells stink of piss and the stench of rubbish fills the air. Yet, as time passes, Adah finds “warm, human comfort” as she’s welcomed into the estate’s wider community of displaced, impoverished women, all of them stuck in the ditch, desperate to find their way out.

Emecheta called this her documentary novel, she loved to read, spending hours in the local library where she was inspired by books produced by working-class writers like Nell Dunn and journalists like Monica Dickens who focused on depicting the nitty-gritty of women’s everyday existence. Emecheta’s account of life on the poverty line is often depressingly familiar, far too many aspects of Adah's day to day apply to contemporary England: inadequate childcare provision; unscrupulous landlords; mould-ridden buildings; the struggle to stretch the pennies to feed and clothe her family. But it’s also a rich, stirring account of resilience and solidarity, the writing is lively and fluid, packed with wry humour, as Adah and the working-class women she befriends fight back against the system that labels them as ‘problems’ but fails to recognise their humanity or individuality.

Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Penguin for an ARC

[Lady Drinkwell · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is such an extraordinary book. I bought it after watching a programme about African British Writers on the BBC. It writes about a very difficult subject but with a light touch which I wasn't expecting. In the first few pages I laughed at the Juju African landlord and was filled with joy at the image of Adah sitting in a park surrounded by daffodils. In spite of the terrible poverty that Adah has to deal with as a single mother with five children, she manages to find moments of joy and friendship. Probably this resilience was what led the real life Buchi to triumph over the odds and make a success of her life. It's saddening how little has changed and much of what has changed in social services hasnt been for the better. Adah was encouraged to give up her job and concentrate on raising her children and getting her degree by her social worker. Today she would be pushed into a zero hour contract.. and when the families are moved out of the slums she goes to a new block of council flats in an upmarket part of London. That same block of flats has probably been gentrified and become completely unaffordable now.. with no social housing to take it's place and single mothers sent to live in cheaper parts of the country.

[Clara · Rating 5 out of 5]

é impressionante como os livros da buchi complementam uns aos outros. esse, seguindo a história de adah após a migração e os eventos subsequentes narrados em "cidadã de segunda classe", trata mais do cotidiano dessa cidadã de segunda classe em um residencial de classe baixa em londres. se pode imaginar os cenários e os personagens do livro de uma forma muito realista com as descrições da autora. o livro todo parece extremamente realista (acredito que, de certa forma, seja um pouco autobiográfico tb, pela semelhança com a história de buchi, e por ser seu primeiro livro). as relações entre os moradores do fundo do poço, com a assistência social e os auxílios e obstáculos proporcionados por estas.

[melanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

'Adah looked at her son. It was funny how kids could be so colour blind. Absentmindedly she cuddled the sweat-soaked curley head of her little boy. In a while the world will teach you what colour your girlfriend is. Before you even kiss chase her, you'll think of her colour first.'

Buchi Emecheta’s debut novel ‘In the Ditch’ has by far got to be my favourite thing I have read so far this year. For a debut, this story packs a memorable punch as it shines it’s perfect spotlight on working-class families in Britain. The story focuses on Adah - a single mother of five, living in a dilapidated council estate in London after coming over from Nigeria. Taking inspiration from her own life experience, Emecheta manages to give the reader the truth of how poorly working-class people are treated, not only by the system but also by each other, in a very real way whilst also leaving space for moments that will make you chuckle to yourself. Her ability to paint a very bleak picture in such a comedic yet truthful light is extraordinary. She hides nothing from the reader, resulting in such strong connections with each of the characters. Buchi Emecheta is certainly a writer I would love to read more of, and would love to hear about more. A true underrated, hidden gem.

[Lorrane Fortunato · Rating 5 out of 5]

Um livro incrível. Me deixou sem palavras.

[Leo Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although this was Emecheta’s first novel I would recommend reading it after Second class citizen as it actually follows on from the events of that novel.
Again her writing leads you into her situation and shows the struggles of a black single mother in London during the 70s. There was less about her Nigerian heritage than in the prequel which was an aspect I enjoyed in that novel. In this although she is part of the community of ‘problem families’ she is always that little bit different because of her education and heritage. She is a very inspiring lady having written this despite all the struggles she had to go through while simply surviving while raising five children.

[Litsplaining · Rating 3 out of 5]

If Buchi Emecheta does nothing else, she's going to write herself into her stories.

In The Ditch is the other half to Second-Class Citizen. Here, the reader learns what becomes of Adah and her brood as they go on the dole and leave her husband behind.

What Emecheta does well here is offer insight into what it looked like to be on the dole (e.g., welfare). It became easy to see how workers in the dole system helped and hurt their charges while also showing how easily it could be for a person to come to be stuck in the system even if they wanted to better themselves.

My one critique here is that Emecheta spends so much time on the minutiae of dole life, that the urgency that was had in Second-Class Citizen gets drained from this narrative.

If you enjoy social commentary and episodic books, read this one.

Note: This book is also sold parceled with Second-Class Citizen as Adah's Story

[Bhárbara Senne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eu gostei muito dos outros livros da autora que li, especialmente As Alegrias Da Maternidade. Tava super animada pra essa leitura, por ser continuação do Cidadã de Segunda Classe, que curti demais. Mas me decepcionei.
A história é bastante rasa, um tanto amadora, e muitas "cenas" são bastante desnecessárias. Toca em assuntos importantes como o racismo, a xenofobia, a misoginia, o assistencialismo e a sororidade, mas de uma maneira muito superficial. Acho que fica uma "mensagem" a respeito de, quando se está no fundo do poço, não esperar que ajuda venha só de cima, mas aprender a contar com quem também tá lá embaixo.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Adah was no longer sure whether she would feel at home in places like the British Museum or the big libraries where she used to work. In those places, your laugh was regulated, intellectual, artificial. No spontaneity. You waited for others to finish what they were saying before you made your own contribution. You seldom listened to what the other person was saying, and by the time it came to your turn to speak, your point would no longer be relevant. You would have forgotten what you were going to say anyway.

There is a deep perceptiveness in Buchi's writing, one that comes from reflection, observance and an honesty of feeling that is hard to find. The trials and tribulations she had to endure in her real life are reflected in this autobiographical novel, the harshness of the benefit system as well as its parasitical nature. Determined to make it in her life despite being a single mother with five children, she learns the ropes from her neighbours on survival tactics in the world of social services and the dole. A deep thinker, Buchi involves us in Adahs life and makes us root for her from the very beginning. It is a shame that such an educated woman ended up living such a harsh life in the UK.

[Matt · Rating 5 out of 5]

In The Ditch is a short glimpse into the life of Adah Obi, a single mother of five, who has immigrated from Lagos, after leaving her war-torn hometown of Biafra.

We meet Adah in a particularly perilous situation - being emotionally and financially manipulated by a landlord, robbing her of not only her sense of self - “her independence, her freedom and peace of mind”. The council are sympathetic to her situation (after nine months of Adah pleading her case) , and move her to a new council estate, a fresh start, Pussy Cat Mansions.

With initially hostile neighbours, worsening living conditions and the incredibly difficult decision to quit her job - being on the dole would pay more - life is to get harder. But she makes do. The children have food, heat and access to education. They can dream of lives as doctors, or space scientists, as Adah breaks her back to fight for every grant she can get to make their lives better. In this estate, there is so much to learn. The social politics, how to deal with “the Ministry” (of social security), and how to defend oneself from the world that is turning their backs to these “problem families”.

An inspiring character, Adah will have the best, and make the best of her situation. She strives for “middle-class”, and is steadfast in her determination. Her pride lies in the strength she knows she has, and that she can achieve her goals. This can be beautifully summed up by Adah’s reflection on social security - “she was not going to lower herself any more for anything. The world has a habit of accepting the way you rated yourself”.

There is one thing at the Mansions that Adah does value, and that is the camaraderie and community that is can provide. Upon her relocation, she struggles to leave behind that group. Having friends, who stand up for her, and love her and support her in a way that children cannot, is something she greatly values. But at the end of the day, that comes second to the creation of a better life.

A strong, resilient, deeply caring woman in a difficult situation, through no fault of her own. We don’t know how Adah’s life continued in her new “fancy” flat, but with the tone of the book, we can be sure that she will fight for her right to a happy, peaceful and full life.

[Dandara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Esse livro não impacta como a Cidadã de Segunda Classe, mas eu já esperava por isso. Mesmo assim, ao decorrer dos capítulos, fiquei envolvida e sensibilizada com o ecossistema do fundo do poço, na banalidade do dia a dia das donas de casa. A escrita torna tudo especial.
Assim como o primeiro livro, gostaria que fosse mais longo…
Mas vale a pena.

[Isabel M.Teixeira · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,5 ⭐ apenas pelo final. Caso contrário seria 5.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

A young, single mother of five, biafran, civil-servant, student of sociology, is moved from the rat infested flat she lives in into new housing. She tries to juggle her studies, her work, the children, and living in a community of material and social poverty, and she has a keen eye for the social composition of her surroundings. As she loses her job, the dole and social workers enter her life, while she struggles to keep her head up and her children fed.

I asked for (and received) a netgalley review copy of the book because I liked the cover and description. Somehow, I did not realise that the book was first published in 1972, and I was intrigued when I started reading. The prose feels very modern, and I think the book translates beautifully into our time. If you needed to explain intersectionality to someone, this book would be perfect. It is smart, funny storytelling.

I felt like all characters were fleshed out and interesting, maybe with the exception of the children who only appear as wild things or in theory. I never really felt that the narrator had 5 of them, but it did not become annoying.

All in all, it is a timeless, timely book I will recommend to others!

[Jairo Fruchtengarten · Rating 2 out of 5]

Buchi Emecheta, a autora do best-seller "Cidadã de Segunda Classe", apresenta aqui um livro de segunda classe: a continuação da estória de Adah,
uma nigeriana que imigra para Londres e tem que conciliar trabalho, estudo e a vida doméstica, cuidando sozinha de seus cinco filhos. Vivendo num
conjunto habitacional que ela chama de fundo do poço, Adah se vê cercada de pessoas em condições precárias como ela, mães solteiras, idosos sem amparo, e crianças sem o devido cuidado.

Vamos direto ao ponto: a narrativa é decepcionante porque não choca, não emociona, e não consegue agredir o leitor com o retrato da pobreza e das
dificuldades de Adah, mesmo tendo em vista que a estória é parcialmente autobiográfica, tendo um lastro na própria vida de Emecheta.

Mais que isso,
expõe-se o dia a dia do condomínio residencial Pussy Cat sem nenhum brilho,
parecendo o roteiro do núcleo pobre da novela das 21hs: um capítulo para falar da socialização de Adah (entende-se, ficar a par das fofocas), outro
para falar da visita de um assistente social, e assim navegamos pelas quase
190 páginas desse livro nesse marasmo sem qualquer destaque.

Parece-me que a tentativa - contraproducente - da autora era criar uma mártir contra o sistema e contra o preconceito contra negros, pobres e mulheres, mas Adah é uma personagem pouco afeita ao protagonismo dessa
causa. Se por um lado propõe-se lutar por condições melhores de vida e por direitos básicos, por outro vemos Adah se acomodar sob as asas do assistencialismo e, ironicamente, ainda afloram da narrativa preconceitos contra ciganos ("a senhora O´Brian era uma cigana, por isso ela não tinha vergonha na cara"), judeus ("mesmo que o homem não fosse judeu, se comportava como um") e os homens de forma geral ("parecia que o matrimônio, além de uma maneira dos homens conseguirem sexo gratuito quando quisessem,
também era uma forma legalizada de cometer agressões e sair impunemente").

Avaliação Final: 3,0/10

[Jillian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Writers of color challenge #15

This book was lent to me by a roller derby teammate, and is a prized possession of hers. I'd never heard of this author - this is Emecheta's first novel and is semi-autobiographical. It was written in 1972 but the style doesn't feel "old," it's clever and sharp. Our protagonist, Adah, is a single mother of several young kiddos living in a slum in London, going to school at night to get a degree in sociology and trying to figure out how to live. She has many questionable interactions with neighbors and locals, who say "I don't care about your color" and "one of your people..." which reflect on the more overt racism of the day but still resonate in today's world. Adah's thoughts on these matters are a little sarcastic but also a little maudlin.

I like the "Juju Landlord," a fellow Nigerian who is trying to evict her and her family with witchcraft! I love her reflection that in Africa this would be a big deal and terrifying, but in London it's merely ridiculous, and the neighbors are like WTF...

What also struck me was her conflicted feelings toward her social worker. The social worker Carol gets her grants, helps her with basically everything, so Adah feels indebted... except that Carol spills Adah's personal life all over the place. Adah shifts between adoring and despising Carol, which I suppose is reasonable.

I also liked Adah's reflections that her public housing complex was like a compound in Africa. Everyone in everyone else's business, no privacy, but lots of support and companionship. When you move to a "proper" flat, you're a stranger to everyone. After two years in Africa I felt this too, like the US communities would be sterile and lonely. Which they are unless you do something about that. Then they're not.

[Lukerik · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating outsider's look at the British underclass and the Welfare State in the 1960s, no less relevant today than it would have been when published. Of particular interest will be the state's insistence that Adah give up work.

I used to live in a working class area. I had been built post war as a slum clearance area. It was a bit of a shock. When I met my neighbour I was polite to him. He took it as a sign of weakness. First he went to the council and tried to get me evicted. When that didn't work he tried to break into my home and attack me. The police had to come. Interesting to see a similar pattern in Adah's confrontation with the Smalls. It must be a cultural thing.

A couple of small flaws: there are some wonky sentences and the dialogue is stilted. As she points out though, English is her second language. This didn't even occur to me when reading The Joys of Motherhood, by which time she had achieved complete mastery of her tool.

Small quibbles though. She orders her material well and knows how to tell a story.

[Ana Rossetto · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Que péssima vida para uma mulher solitária, Adah pensou. Ah, Deus, me deixe morrer no meu país quando chegar a hora. Pelo menos lá haverá gente para segurar a minha mão."

Que livro minha gente! A escrita da Buchi me surpreendeu demais, ela tem um jeito de construcão que bota oposicões de uma maneira muito sutil mas muito poderosa também. Saber que o livro é em parte autobiográfico mudou a experiencia completamente, já quero elr os outros livros dela.

[Ollie Eubany · Rating 5 out of 5]

A positively excellent book. Since reading it in Nigeria years ago I have purchased all her books. I finally met Buchi Emecheta in LA City College where she was lecturing in 1989. She overcame many difficulties raising her children in England after her husband left her, and became a brilliant author. Her advice to me since I told her write, was to keep everything simple.

[Ayo · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was an Afrikan Writers fiction fein ('99-'02)

[Audrey Pryce · Rating 5 out of 5]

My favorite work by this author so far. I am slowly plowing through her collection of literature.

[Dima · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a semi autobiographical story describing the first few years of a young woman's life in the UK of the 60s/70s, after immigrating from Biafra, and accompanied by 5 young children, and no husband. The story follows her travails navigating the UK welfare system, while trying to build her life through work, studying, and friendships.

The story is incredibly well written, in line with the rest of the author's work. In some ways it is reminiscent of Chekhov - describing the life of a poor struggling family, and, through that, shedding light on more complex socio-political and psychological issues. There is a lot of charm and an aesthetically pleasing simplicity in the way the story is told. With nuance and precision the author paints a picture of the protagonist and her friends, making them almost come alive. The personalities and psychological idiosyncrasies are very nicely articulated via dialogues, and daily rituals (like getting out of bed, or not).

The story is in many ways sad - showing the obtuseness of the welfare system, describing all the minor ways that racism and sexism persists in the system, and, to some extent, among the community of folks living on estates. It also raises questions on how people end up on the dole, and debates the incentives for keeping them there. It also debates the complex emotions that these people have towards the government and the social workers that represent it. There is a particularly sharp observation at one point in the book describing how women sometimes have additional children as a mechanism to deal with their situation.

Despite all this, I find the story quite optimistic. Most importantly, it shows that despite all the difficulties and frustrations, there is, eventually, a path to a better life. The author's own story is also a case in point. I was also struck by the strong ties that formed between the women living in these conditions, transgressing divisions of race and background. The sense of community and the inter-reliance is a strong and permeates a lot of the positive elements in the book.

In many ways, this book describes how perseverance, commitment, community, and grit (and perhaps luck) can contribute to improving one's position in life. While this doesn't excuse the ineptness of the system, one can't do without these attributes, can one?

Highly topical, even 50 years after it was written, especially with the current government in power. I recommend it to anyone interested in the story of immigrants in the UK (and perhaps other Western countries?), the struggles of poor women to care for themselves and their families, and the role that the government can play (but perhaps doesn't do consistently) in helping those who struggle.

My thanks to Netgalley and the Publisher for providing me with a free copy of this book in return for an honest review.

[Paula · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dei uma pausa da sequência de seis livros de literatura brasileira com a minha autora favorita: a nigeriana Buchi Emecheta. Não tinha lido sua primeira narrativa longa, então foi ela a escolhida.

O livro teria recebido 3 ou 4 estrelas se eu não tivesse lido antes “Cidadã de Segunda Classe” (seu seguro livro) e especialmente “As Alegrias da Maternidade” (seu quinto e último livro). Já em No Fundo do Poço ela define os temas que são centrais em toda a sua obra: maternidade, opressão de gênero, imigração/xenofobia e desigualdade social. Mas a escrita dela evolui a passos largos à medida que publica novos livros, é realmente algo que eu adoraria que tivesse passado batido, mas não passou.

Ainda assim, esta obra é espetacular à sua maneira. Addah é uma mulher nigeriana, divorciada, m��e de cinco crianças, e que quer construir novas possibilidades para si e para seus filhos na Inglaterra. Deixa as crianças sozinhas em casa, umas cuidando das outras, como é comum entre famílias de classe baixa e média-baixa de todo lugar, enquanto trabalha como bibliotecária e faz seu Mestrado à noite. Alertada por uma assistente social sobre ser proibido deixar crianças desassistidas, ela deixa seu emprego e passa a viver do pequeno seguro provido pelo governo.

O “fundo do poço” é como ela se refere ao conjunto residencial onde mora, um lugar para onde o governo manda todas as “famílias-problema”. O lugar me lembra O Cortiço de Aluísio Azevedo, na multiplicidade de personagens e conflitos que, de alguma forma, também encontram jeito de ser um povo só. É interessantíssima a trajetória de Addah, do “não pertenço a este lugar” ao “não quero mais ir embora daqui”. Dois trechos desse arco me marcam: “Sua socialização estava completa. Ela, uma mulher africana com cinco filhos e nenhum marido, sem emprego e sem futuro, estava como a maioria de seus vizinhos: desocupada, desenraizada, sem direito a reivindicar nada” e “Prisioneiros, depois de uma longa estadia, costumam achar a vida fora mais exigente”.

A forma como a autora articula habilmente tantos temas em uma única narrativa coerente e coesa é preciosa: existem tantos “otherness” em uma história só. A mãe de cinco filhos, a imigrante, a pobre, a marginalizada, a desempregada, a não pertencente. E, sobre eles, existem o governo, a seguridade social, seus agentes.

Dois pontos são minhas ressalvas em relação à obra: 1) Senti falta de um final; o livro não termina no ar, ele termina como uma frase incompleta; 2) algumas cenas me parecem inverossímeis (provavelmente por ignorância de como funciona a seguridade social na Inglaterra), como aquela em que ela rejeita três diferentes realocações mas segue conseguindo propostas melhores.

Ainda assim, recomendo a leitura para quem nunca leu Buchi, é uma boa introdução. Definitivamente menos violenta para o leitor que suas demais obras.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Last year there was a very good BBC documentary about African writers which covered the range from Chinua Achebe to Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche so when the narrator referenced Buchi Emechata and showed the famous photograph from 1983 of the Granta young writers which included stellar white luminaries of today's literary world in which she is captured I wanted to find her work and upon reading this book I found an author whose work I will now want to explore.
Semi autobiographical this book tells of Adah, a Nigerian mother of 5 children ,who in the opening chapter is living in a 1970's London one bedroom private rented flat with cockroaches and rats as sitting tenants , no hot water and dodgy electrics, as well as a landlord from her home country who in the early hours of the morning stands outside the house in traditional costume performing magical ceremonies to get Adah out after she has involved the housing authorities. The humour in this opening chapter presages a book full of wry comic observations about English attitudes and prejudices despite the poverty she is experiencing .
Adah is a highly intelligent woman who on opening is studying in night school for a degree, and has a job in a museum as well as trying to provide for her children. When she is eventually rehoused in a local council tenement building ( more bedrooms but dreadful damp and dog excrement outside her door) she is faced with casual racism but also great solidarity from different sections of this very poor community. When the local social worker suggests that she has to give up studying and work because she is potentially 'neglecting;' her children she is inevitably forced into claiming benefits with again scenes that again expose the humiliation of claiming with a caustic look at the innate prejudice of professionals because of colour.
This is a book that I was very glad to have found with writing that was refreshing and honest .It takes a snapshot of an immigrant's life in early 1970's in which , while subject to prejudice about race, also allows a picture of a degree of tolerance which felt very relevant as a read today when intolerance appears to be ever prevalent. I am sure I may be coming new to a writer who is very well known but if this review encourages someone else to pick up this book then I will be pleased. I will definitely be reading more of her work.

[Isabella Alencar · Rating 3 out of 5]

O primeiro livro, “Cidadã de segunda classe”, conta o início da história de Adah. A personagem principal nasceu na Nigéria dos anos 60 e, desde a mais tenra idade, sofre com diversos tipos de violências; tanto por ter se tornado órfã aos 8 anos de idade, quanto por ser mulher.
Mas o que faz Adah se destacar é que ela nutre diversos sonhos e percebe uma “Presença” toda vez que surge alguma motivação em transformar sua vida. O primeiro sonho a ser realizado é poder ir à escola; o segundo é ir para a Inglaterra (que é vista como uma “terra prometida”). Mas, naquela época, as mulheres não podiam tomar decisões sobre suas próprias vidas, muito menos uma órfã.
Então, lutando contra as expectativas sociais, Adah vai alcançando alguns objetivos e a persistência é uma das maiores características da personagem. Até que, finalmente, chega o dia em que ela consegue ir para a Inglaterra (acredite, até aqui não tem spoiler). O que ela não esperava era ter que lidar com racismo e xenofobia, além de um casamento abusivo e com frequente violência.
No segundo livro, “No fundo do poço”, Adah precisa agora sustentar e criar os cinco filhos como mãe solo em um país que não é o seu. Além disso, tem que conciliar a maternidade com o trabalho e as aulas noturnas na faculdade. O nome do livro se refere a forma “carinhosa” que ela denomina o lugar que agora precisa viver.
Eu pensei em comprar esses livros, porque quando li “Alegrias da Maternidade”, eu achei de uma preciosidade absurda e senti que precisava ler mais produções dessa autora.
Apesar de “No fundo do poço” ser visto como uma continuação cronológica de “Cidadã de Segunda Classe”, a ordem de escrita e publicação foi inversa. A publicação de “No fundo do poço” foi em 1972 e de “Cidadã de Segunda Classe” em 1974. A escrita com raiva e frustração pode ser vista em maior intensidade no livro publicado em 1972, enquanto o livro de 1974 aparece com uma escrita mais madura.
Os dois livros têm caráter autobiográfico. Então, se você quer conhecer a escritora a fundo, essas leituras junto com “Alegrias da Maternidade” são fundamentais.

[Gavin Felgate · Rating 5 out of 5]

A gritty story set in a suburban London council estate.

Adah has moved to London from Nigeria; she is trying to bring up her five children in the "Pussy Cat Mansions", a squalid housing block. Tenants are neglected by landlords and authorities, and she even faces harassment from neighbours. In one of the early chapters, a man shows up at the door, claiming he's not a racist but her kids are too loud.

Adah is forced to quit her job, and so ends up living on the dole while trying to be a mother at the same time, while constantly trying to find her way out of the "ditch", the building where she is living.

It is quite easy to recognise the message that this book gives about the struggles faced by people living in poverty, and some implied commentary on racial equality too. At one point when Adah looks for alternative housing, she finds herself being offered the worst imaginable places to live, including sharing a house with an old lady who owns "a dog as big as an elephant".

I thought this was a really good book; not a lot happened, apart from Adah's attempts to improve her life, but the narrative really immersed me in the situation with its depiction of the living conditions and the misery of having to stand in a dole line. There were a few references to the Biafran war in Nigeria, which made me glad that I read Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's "Half of a Yellow Sun".

I was also glad that after all that, there was an uplifting ending.

[Janaína Steiger · Rating 4 out of 5]

Uma realidade distante em tempo e espaço, mas tão tão semelhante à daqui.

"No fundo do poço" (apesar de ter sido lançado antes) é a continuação de "Cidadã de segunda classe", que retrata a experiência de imigração de Adah, uma jovem nigeriana, recém chegada à Londres. No ano passado, quando li, eu começava a trabalhar num serviço da assistência social localizado no território que mais recebe imigrantes venezuelanos da região metropolitana de Porto Alegre. O que eu escutava e lia se misturavam de uma forma bonita e perturbante. A obra era autobiográfica e uma das usuárias do CRAS poderiam muito bem tê-la escrito.

Agora, então, vou ao "fundo do poço", onde Emecheta ilustra as (muitas!) contradições da assistência social. E as realidades - de lá e cá - voltam a beijar-se. Adah e seus filhos tornam-se uma "família problema", vivendo em complexo habitacional atendido por Carol, assistente social que ora é amada, ora rechaçada, no início, temida: "uma integrante da espécie de mulheres que os outros nunca sabiam se deveriam tratar como amiga ou como membro da polícia social".
Me vejo um pouco Carol, como representante de uma política contraditória, que é de direitos, mas também minada de riscos, caminhando no limite entre proteção e controle, autonomia e desamparo, amparo e dependência. Trajeto estreito e construído cotidianamente, com e por Adah's que por ele passam.

[James Mwendwa · Rating 3 out of 5]

A sort if ‘follow on’ from Second Class Citizen, "In the Ditch" continues Adah’s harrowing journey as a single mother of five living in temporary accommodation. You can definitely feel the small wins every few chapters, but they are mostly outweighed by her constant struggles.

This book centres around the Mansion Flats, where numerous mothers navigate personal struggles, finding solace with each other. Adah continues to wrestle with feelings of alienation and isolation as she conforms to expected societal norms in London. Buchi convincingly captures the atmosphere of dole-dependant households in 1970s London.

There is a definitive shift of Adah's personality between "In the Ditch" and "Second Class Citizen". The first act of "Second Class Citizen" showcases Adah's fiery personality and never-ending drive - as the book unfolds she still maintains her grit against all odds. However, "In the Ditch" paints the 'Igbo Tigress" as weary and docile. Adah's reticence is only amplified by her anxiety and loneliness.

Throughout the novel, it's easy to sense Buchi writing herself into the narrative, using Adah as a vessel for her emotions, attitudes and fears during her immigration.

A realistic depiction of the challenging yet paramount transition African immigrants face while integrating into the British Society.

[Resenhas do Pêndulo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dublinense | 127 páginas (Kindle) | Nigéria


BUCHI EMECHETA - NO FUNDO DO POÇO 5⭐


No fundo do poço conta a história de Adah, uma mãe divorciada que tem 5 filhos e vive em Londres. Com isso, ela irá começar a perceber que manter o trabalho, vida de mãe e estudar é muito árduo para ela. Tentando manter seu trabalho diário e suas aulas noturnas em busca de um diploma, ela se vê às voltas com o serviço de assistência social, que lhes classifica como "família-problema". É onde Adah encontra uma causa comum com seus vizinhos brancos da classe trabalhadora e sua luta contra um sistema social que parece destinado a oprimir todas as mulheres.


O livro debate vários temas como racismo, o papel da mulher negra na sociedade e a constituição de uma família. A importância de uma família para um africano.


Em vários momentos vemos Adah silenciada com medo de ser criticada ao tentar dar voz às suas ideias e aos seus pensamentos e com isso ela acaba se frustando várias vezes.


O único ponto negativo que eu coloco no livro, se podemos chamar assim, é o fato de não mostrar o background da universidade em que ela estuda, apenas comenta que ela estuda de noite e fica por isso.

@resenhasdopendulo

[Mad Medico · Rating 3 out of 5]

An intimate and personal semi-autobiographical narrative about the privation and humiliation of social housing and single motherhood in the 70s. Small vignettes illuminate the discrimination faced by Adah, who has migrated from Nigeria - she is forced out of her job in order to claim benefits, shunted between inadequate housing and infantilised by social workers and other emissaries of the state. She forms tenuous links of solidarity with some of the other residents of the ‘Mansions’ social housing block, while others mock and abuse her. The style is very matter-of-fact and lucid, although the elliptical style is a bit of a weakness for me - the lack of a truly arcing narrative means the events feel very mundane and almost boring, which may be the intention (I’m sure the novel captures the situation of the time quite well) but they don’t add up to much in the way of a point or platform for change, leaving the impression of resignation rather than revolution which is a bit too depressing even for me…

[Nathany Beatriz · Rating 4 out of 5]

quando acabei cidadã de segunda classe até gostei do final aberto, pensei que agora q ela se livrou do Francis finalmente poderia ser feliz e conquistar muitas coisas..mas aí fui ler esse e lembrei que não é tão fácil assim, ela tem 5 filhos e é uma mulher negra imigrante, muito difícil conciliar um emprego com cuidar dos filhos e estudar, sem falar na dificuldade de encontrar um lugar bom pra morar, se já foi difícil antes sendo casada e tendo só 2 filhos.. tinha tanta certeza que ela ia reescrever o livro e conseguir publicar! q ia continuar sendo amg do pessoal da biblioteca onde trabalhava.. fiquei um pouco triste com o final ser tão aberto de novo e não ter tido nenhuma mudança significativa tirando a casa e o bairro, ainda não sei se ela conseguiu voltar a trabalhar e se tá conseguindo se sustentar nesse bairro mais caro 🙁 tomara que faça amgs ali também 💖 queria que o irmão dela fosse pra Inglaterra.. enfim, gostei que pelo menos ela fez amgs no fundo do poço, se sentiu a vontade pra ser ela mesma com eles, teve ajuda e ajudou quando foi preciso, msm naquela bagunça