Last week, the Nigerian novelist and playwright Chinua Achebe passed away at the age of 82. When I think of his work, it takes me back to Nigeria in an incredibly visceral way. I hear the sounds, smell the aromas, feel the textures on my fingertips.
In 1994 my brothers and I moved back to the US, joining up with the rest of our family. As a hyphenated-American being inserted straight into high school, struggling to navigate a complex and foreign subculture while trying to understand my place in a multi-ethnic society very unlike what I was used to, I found myself seeking out “cognitive comfort food” and turned frequently to Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, Arrow of God and No Longer At Ease, among others.
Forever at ease, rest in peace.