In the realm of African fiction, this novel stretches against the myriad of cultural divisions erected through colonialism. Much has been said about African fiction as a form, and of the use of the novel by writers whose cultural roots are based in an oral, dynamic storytelling as opposed to the Western one of static writing. This novel plays on one of those subsets, the first-person diary, and both enforces the reader's identification with the African protagonist while pushing the reader away through choices and actions which may seem alien to a Western audience. Indispensible for anyone with an interest in African writing and/or colonialism and its effects. As with all of my readings in African fiction, I am more struck by the silence the text evokes than the speeches constructed therein. Silence is everywhere in this novel, as well as in the works of writers such as Achebe or Soyinka. I would argue that, in that respect, African writers have co-opted the written forms of the colonial cultures for their own ends; what other group of writers has so consistently and effectively caused the text of the book to evoke the absence of words?