Trigger warnings for rape, abuse, and self-harm.
Mental illness is difficult enough to talk about even using the vocabulary of psychologists. It gets even more difficult when culture has another explanation for why someone feels so wrong all the time. In Freshwater, by Akwaeke Emezi, something went wrong when Ada was born. Physically, things went fine, but something happened that left her with company crowding her brain. She is ọgbanje, a vehicle for supernatural beings who were supposed to clear out before Ada hit puberty. From the perspective of Western medicine, Ada has dissociative identity disorder. Whatever anyone calls it, Ada’s life is chaotic, inside and out.
As a small child, Ada screamed a lot. She was a difficult child for her parents. But given that her brain is also occupied by other beings, it’s little wonder that she has such a hard time expressing herself. Her problems only get worse when she gets older and her body develops breasts and starts to menstruate. She falls into the grasp of abusive boyfriends who compound her psychic damage. Meanwhile, Ada hurts herself to try and find some relief from all the pressure.
This is a hard book to read but, because it is told mostly from the perspective of Ada’s guests, there is enough distance to soften some of the misery for us readers. Some of these guests, like Smoke and Shadow, are respectful of Ada’s body. Others, like Asụghara, believe they are doing Ada a favor by shutting her away from her body while they have sex. Yet others, like Saint Vincent, and more ambiguous because they want Ada’s body to mirror how they see themselves. That said, Ada has friends who want to help her and will step in when Ada spirals out of control. She might seem alone with her guests for most of the book, but those friends are watching out for her.
In addition to questions of who has the right to Ada’s body, there is the overall question of what is happening to Ada and her guests and why. Readers have the option of interpreting Ada’s condition as being an ọgbanje or as having dissociative identity disorder. There is evidence in support of either option. I’m not going to weigh in for option or the other, because that’s really up to each reader. But I will say that I loved the way Emezi used Igbo beliefs throughout this book to create an affecting, thoughtful, and honest portrait of a woman who is struggling against abuse and confusion.
Notes for bibliotherapeutic use: Recommended for readers who have someone in their lives with severe mental illness. Also recommended for readers who have experienced feelings of not fitting in the world or their bodies.