Why Adichie Thinks We Should All Be Feminists

Written by Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, We Should All Be Feminists is a crisp yet engaging adaptation of her TEDx Talk with the same title. As the name suggests, the book makes a compelling argument for why feminism can benefit everybody.

It is sprinkled with stories of growing up in Nigeria and her encounters with sexism. She recalls the first time she was ever called a feminist as a young girl and notes that though this remark came from a close friend, it was not a compliment. She describes how feminism is looked down upon and delves into the various etiquette society prescribes to women. Time and again she is told that feminism is un-African and that she shouldn’t buy into the West’s influence; that being feminist means you hate men; that it will destroy your marriage or somehow make you unfit for it. The word comes with baggage, and Adichie does a great job outlining this.

When she was only nine, Adichie is told in class that the person who scores the highest on a test will be made class monitor. Filled with ambition, she works hard and tops her class. But to her dismay, her teacher tells her that only a boy can be the class monitor (duh!). From the very beginning, we are taught that only men get to be in positions of power. This translates into the glass ceiling that prevents women from holding high-level management roles in corporations. It is also reinforced over the years that women cannot be too ambitious as it will threaten the men around them. Women are meant to be warm, motherly and homely.

‘The higher you go, the fewer women there are.’

— Wangari Maathai, late Kenyan Nobel peace laureate

The author speaks of a woman she knew who sold her house just so she wouldn't intimidate the man she would marry. Though reading this may infuriate us, it doesn’t take long to start thinking of similar instances from our own lives. And that shows us the finesse with which Adichie brings to the surface how so many normalised practices are rooted in patriarchy.

The story of how the valet at a restaurant thanked her male friend even though she paid him because they assumed that any money she had came from a man in her life struck a chord with me. It took me back to all the times a waiter at the restaurant would only acknowledge my partner, although I was the one communicating with them. It may not seem like a big deal until you begin to realise the implications of such conversations. Men make the decisions and the money; men are superior.

But Adichie doesn’t stop at mentioning how feminism can improve the lives of women. She draws attention to how if two teens go on a date, though both have the same amount of money, the boy is expected to pay. Men are constantly expected to prove their masculinity.

I could go on and on mentioning anecdotes from the book, but that would be redundant. The bottom line is that the author does a wonderful job making her point while being descriptive and concise.

She takes you on a journey to understand what it is like to be a woman through her lens. Her arguments make a mark on readers as she not only discusses problems but also presents solutions. Very matter-of-factly she states that just as we are desensitised to misogynistic practices due to normalisation, we can overcome it by embracing and normalising feminism. She acknowledges that unlearning is not easy but also leaves the readers with food for thought.

After all, a feminist, as Adichie learnt at a young age, is a person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes. And in her own words, ‘All of us, women and men, must do better.’