Realism, despite its conventional associations, is not inherently disconnected from the horror genre. This notion is vividly illustrated in ‘Pemi Aguda’s’ debut anthology, ‘Ghostroots,’ which has been nominated for the 2024 US National Book Award. The collection deftly navigates a space that is neither purely realistic nor entirely supernatural, using ordinary situations imbued with unsettling possibilities. Examples include a mother grappling with her inability to nurse her newborn, questioning whether her unresolved feelings about her husband’s infidelity have affected her health; a young woman with a history of violence who suspects she is possessed by a malevolent ancestor; and a driver, haunted by guilt after hitting a pedestrian, who fears for her own daughter’s safety. ‘One Leg on Earth,’ as its title suggests, also occupies this ambiguous realm but engages more directly and inventively with themes of darkness. The narrative follows Yosoye Bakare, a young woman who has just arrived in Lagos to intern at a firm tasked with developing Omi City, a cutting-edge area built on reclaimed land.
In Lagos, away from her familiar surroundings, Yosoye is eager for new experiences. During a night out, she finds herself in a rundown bar, accepts a drink from a stranger, and ends up in a cheap motel where they engage in unprotected sex. Meanwhile, a troubling trend emerges across the city as pregnant women inexplicably take to the waters. When Yosoye discovers she is expecting, she chooses to keep the baby. She reflects on this decision, noting, “It’s difficult to convey to someone who has always yearned for acceptance that the promise of a new life, one that would truly belong to her, felt like a refreshing sip of water after a long, arduous trek under the Lagos sun.”
At her workplace, Yosoye faces dismissal from her designer colleagues, relegated to the role of an “errand girl.” Determined to carve out a position for herself, she aims to create the company newsletter but is met with skepticism: “Who would offer a full-time position with maternity benefits to a 22-year-old with no experience? Who did she think she was? Buchi Emecheta?”
This mention of the influential late Nigerian author seems to signal Aguda’s inspiration. The novel’s core theme of water, along with the delicate balance between survival and surrender, can be likened to Emecheta’s own reflections on resilience in her memoir, ‘Head Above Water,’ where she navigated the challenges of single motherhood and a writing career in 1960s England. Another literary figure that casts a long shadow over the narrative is Toni Morrison, subtly referenced through the character of a duplicitous, affluent artist named Beloved. This character guides Yosoye toward dark realizations, suggesting that the “suicide women” have made “powerful choices… Choosing how and when to die. Isn’t that the ultimate affirmation of bodily autonomy?”
Aguda skillfully intertwines elements of eco-horror, cosmic dread, and themes of the monstrous feminine to create a gripping narrative. Yosoye is haunted by the lure of water and overwhelmed by the expansive, arid surroundings of her workplace. As the deceased women begin to appear—first in her dreams, symbolizing a call to sisterhood, and then on the shores of Omi City—she is compelled to decipher their significance and what they demand from her. The novel thrives on its ambivalence, posing more questions than it answers. What compels these women toward watery graves? Are their suicides acts of defiance or attempts at transcendence? “What if it’s contagious like SARS or Ebola, only affecting us because we share our immune systems with our unborn children?” Are the babies “malevolent water spirits, dragging their mothers back into the depths, fearing the constraints of human existence?”
One of Yosoye’s colleagues recalls the ancestors who were forcibly taken to the Americas during the slave trade, recounting, “Do you know what they did? They took control of the ship, drowned their captors, and walked back into the water together.” There is also a history “closer to home” regarding the Aramoko ipaye, who resisted enslavement by taking their own lives. Are these “suicide mothers” seeking a form of liberation?
‘One Leg on Earth’ unfolds as a richly textured narrative filled with complex mysteries, though its intricately woven threads begin to unravel as Aguda guides it toward a commentary on resistance against exploitative development. She astutely critiques capitalist notions of power and ownership while drawing intriguing parallels between childbirth and urban development. However, the tale shines most brightly as a surreal allegory of a woman’s transformative journey into motherhood. The narrative delves into the body horror associated with pregnancy, depicted through vivid images of grotesquely swollen bellies, while also examining the conflicting definitions of motherhood and the precarious existence of expectant mothers, caught between life and death.
‘One Leg on Earth’ by Pemi Aguda is published by Virago, priced at £18.99. To support the Guardian, you can order your copy at guardianbookshop.com, though delivery fees may apply.
