A re-telling of 'Mansfield Park' is the framework, but the content is clearly the first-hand experience of growing up Anglo-Nigerian with all the injustices and prejudices of race and gender. Both cultures compete with each other to heap adversity on the heads of Funke and her cousin Liv. If you thought London is the nadir of wealth and deprivation, check out Lagos. Coming-of-age chicklit with Jane Austen depth.
It was impossible to believe Aunty Margot was Mum's sister. Mum had seen the best in everything and everyone. Aunt Margot only saw faults; she didn't even seem to like her own daughter. Liv was scolded for talking too much, being too dramatic, too sensitive, too lazy, too energetic, too happy and too fat. How could she call Liv fat? What would she make of Aunty Ndidi?
Meanwhile, Dominic the mumu was treated like a prince. It was almost a relief to realise some things- like boys being more important than girls- were the same in Nigeria and England. She thought of Femi and her crying became more hysterical. She took big gulpy breaths, but couldn't get enough air. It felt like her chest was going to cave in. She reached under her pillow for the bottle top and squeezed until the pain was unbearable and her breathing had returned to normal.
When Liv came to her after supper, Funke was curled into a ball, the bottle top stuck to her palm with dried blood.
