Sulaiman S.M.Y. Addonia

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.… (mer)

Sulaiman Addonia must be one of the few authors whose life has been as dramatic as his fiction. Born in Eritrea, he spent his childhood in a refugee camp in Sudan and then moved as a teenager to Jeddah, where his mother had been working for some time as a servant. Later, he and his brother came to London; and, more recently still, he has moved to Brussels with his Belgian partner and their son. The protagonist of this debut novel shares some of Addonia’s own displaced history, although in other important ways he’s had a very different experience. Struggling to make ends meet as a foreign worker in Jeddah, Naser lives in a strange world where life is governed by the whims of his kafeel (Saudi sponsor) and the dictates of the religious police, and where men and women inhabit fiercely segregated worlds. Then, one hot and languid summer, a girl drops a note at Naser’s feet in the street. Shrouded in her burqa, she has fallen in love with him; but he can only recognise her by her shoes. It’s the beginning of a heartfelt story of forbidden love played out in the shadow of the fundamentalist regime...

For the full review, please see my blog:
https://theidlewoman.net/2019/02/03/the-consequences-of-love-sulaiman-addonia/… (mer)

"Men in white thobes... women in black abayas. The scene made you feel like you were in an old black and white movie"
By sally tarbox on April 21, 2017
Format: Hardcover
Narrated by Naser, an Eritrean who has been brought to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia by his uncle. He wonders if his mother is still alive back in Africa; meanwhile he lives a lonely life in this constrained society, while working in a lowly job. And then one day an unknown woman in a burqa drops a love letter in his lap before hurrying away. ...
An unusual read, as a friendship slowly develops through surreptitiously exchanged notes, although Naser has never seen the woman and even wonders if it could be a man out to get him in trouble with the Religious Police ...
I couldn't put it down; it gives an interesting glimpse into a warped world, where the glossy shopping mall stands beside Punishment Square, where "heads and hands were cut off and lovers were flogged, beheaded or stoned to death." Where the sound of the imam's hate-filled sermons floats into the home. Where young men are forced into single-sex company, and homosexuality, glue-sniffing and drinking perfume - the only source of alcohol - are prevalent. And where violence or death are the price for contravening the code of conduct...
An accomplished first novel… (mer)