Book review: A weekend of debauchery and difficult self-reflection in Little Rot

Little Rot

By Akwaeke Emezi
Literary fiction/Faber & Faber/Paperback/288 pages/$29.16/Amazon SG (

amzn.to/3zxy6WM

)

Little Rot is the sixth novel by Nigerian author Akwaeke Emezi, who broke into the literary scene in 2018 with Freshwater, a debut that gained critical acclaim and was nominated for the Women’s Fiction Prize.

Taking place over a weekend in New Lagos, Nigeria, it shows the darker side of the luxurious world of the wealthy elite, highlighting social issues such as male infidelity and the abuses of privilege and power.

In this novel’s patriarchial world, men sleep around and cheat on their partners without remorse. Events kick off when Aima breaks up with Kalu after nearly five years together as there is no marriage proposal: “She had thought she was blessed then, to have a boyfriend like him. He was generous, he adored her, and she was absolutely sure he’d never been unfaithful, which barely any other woman in the city could claim of their own partners.”

Unbeknown to her, Kalu has been unfaithful for two years since the duo moved to Lagos, going to sex parties hosted by his best friend Ahmed. He has little remorse, maintains his hook-ups and fantasises about sleeping with Aima’s best friend Ijendu.

His decision to attend another of Ahmed’s parties after the break-up ignites one of the novel’s primary conflicts. After assaulting a man for sleeping with an underage girl, Kalu unwittingly makes an enemy of Daddy O, the most powerful and respected pastor in Lagos.

Desperate to protect Kalu, Ahmed seeks help from Souraya, a former lover whose best friend is Daddy O’s favourite girl. But Ahmed’s brashness leads to a dangerous deal that draws in Ijendu and Aima.

Much like Emezi’s other previous novels, Little Rot addresses issues within and around the queer community. It is implied that Aima, Kalu and Ahmed are bisexual, though it is never confirmed. Struggles to acknowledge their same-sex attractions become a theme in their narratives, showing each character’s internal conflicts as they come to terms with desires long suppressed or newly discovered.

Ijendu, a proudly bisexual woman, is a stark contrast to the other characters, as she freely embraces her sexuality.

Bad male behaviour drives the plot. But it is the quieter moments that resonate, such as when Aima reflects on what happiness and religion mean to her and whether it was wrong of her to expect Kalu to propose. These unanswered questions capture her emotional vulnerability as she contemplates whether a straight path is the easier option.

The only minor gripe with this book is that the graphic sex scenes feel gratuitous towards the end as Kalu and Ahmed’s sexual escapades often lead to further chaos. While the author might have intended to show that men are driven by their appetites, this feels irritating and repetitive.

In the end, Kalu repeats the words told to him by the women he met at Ahmed’s party, the slow moral decay – referenced in the title – that sets in as individuals succumb to societal mores: “She said this city changes us so slowly that we don’t notice, little by little. Until it’s too late. And we’re part of everything we always hated.”

Book rating: Five out of five stars

If you like this, read: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi (Faber & Faber, 2018, $23.16, Amazon SG, go to

amzn.to/3RUMIFE

). Set in south Nigeria, Emezi’s debut novel follows Ada, a girl who develops separate selves, and the journey to understand the complexities of identity.