E3W Literature | University of Texas

Toyin Falola
A Mouth Sweeter than Salt: An African Memoir
Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2003.
271 pages
ISBN: 0472114018
Price: $35.00

Reviewed by Matthew M. Heaton

A Mouth Sweeter than Salt tells the childhood story of Toyin Falola, acclaimed historian of Nigeria currently teaching at the University of Texas at Austin. Through his own eyes, Falola describes his environment and adventures growing up in Ibadan, Nigeria, one of the largest urban centers in Africa, during the transition from British colonial dominance to an independent government in the 1950s and 1960s. Though subtitled An African Memoir, A Mouth Sweeter than Salt is more than a childhood remembered: it is a childhood pondered. The ideas that Falola conveys through this work are all ones that he has developed in the years since the events described in this book. In order to make sense of it all, however, he has been compelled to layer approaches from several fields of academic pursuit in order to communicate so broadly, yet in such compartmentalized terms, the environment of which he was a product. In so doing, Falola vividly portrays the complicated interplay between tradition and modernity in post-colonial Nigeria through the process of a young boy trying to acculturate himself into a rapidly changing society.

While the crux of the narrative centers around the activities of Toyin and those closest to him, the specific events described are always meant as a window into a deeper analysis of the contemporary circumstances and historical context in which the events occurred. The mention of his father’s birthday opens the door for a discussion of the various conceptions of time in contemporary Nigeria. The unintentional blinding of one of Toyin’s friends becomes an explication of communal justice in Ibadan and the centrality of violence to conflict resolution in the city’s history. Toyin’s ride on a train and subsequent return from Ilorin result in his being branded an emere, a spirit child linked to heaven but residing on earth, possessing great powers and not to be trusted. This mention of emere turns into a more general discussion on the traditional Yoruba beliefs related to childbirth, including the spiritual significance associated with twins and the fear of giving birth to an abiku, a kind of spirit child that curses a family by dying and being reborn multiple times.

Regardless of the type of interaction being discussed, however, Falola is keen to bring to the fore the tension between the traditional practices and beliefs of the Yoruba inhabitants of Ibadan and the Western institutions that had become entrenched in Nigerian society during British colonial rule. By the time that young Toyin was becoming aware of his surroundings, in the early 1960s, it is clear that the traditional and the modern had become so uniquely fused that success meant being able to navigate between them. Falola recognizes this capacity in his father, Adesina. Adesina was baptized with the Christian name James and, although an avid churchgoer, he did not follow the Christian doctrine of monogamy, choosing instead to maintain the traditional polygamous family structure of the Yoruba. He was a tailor, and, while the art of dressmaking was a traditional occupation of great significance, Adesina became particularly respected because of his ability to tailor English suits in addition to traditional Yoruba attire. Keeping with traditional Yoruba customs, Adesina built a large family compound as a symbol of his success, but rather than serving simply as a home and shelter for extended family and friends, Adesina leased rooms in the compound to tenants that came and went more as customers than as members of a kin group. Although Adesina died just months after the birth of Toyin, his ability to balance the modern aspects of Nigerian life within the traditional framework of Yoruba society is reflected in his youngest son’s childhood activities. Whether bragging to friends about stowing away on a train, or regaling classmates with stories of Western or Indian movies he had seen, Falola illustrates the political capital that he gained as a child through association with the symbols of modernity, even as he also gained prominence amongst his peers for his close relationship with a mysterious traditional herbalist named Leku.

Perhaps the best example of Falola’s ability to situate his childhood experience within its historical context and contemporary circumstance is in the climactic encounter between his grandfather, who was a village pastor, the local chief, and a poor farmer named Yacouba. When the chief forces Yacouba off his land for failure to pay usurious rents, the farmer appeals to the local pastor for assistance. When the chief hears that Yacouba is inciting subversion against him, he has Yacouba jailed on fabricated grounds. Toyin witnesses all of this, as well as the pastor’s vain attempts to remedy the situation through the appropriate political channels. Falola uses this event to explain the bankruptcy of post-colonial Nigerian politics, the greed of politicians and the ways that the chieftancy system had been reoriented under colonial rule to allow rural chiefs to maintain power without responding to the needs of their subject populations. He further discusses the historic shift in conceptions of the nature of land ownership in Yorubaland from a traditional model based on communal ownership, in which all members of a community had free access to community land through the local chief, to a modern system of land tenure initiated under the British, whereby local chiefs controlled the land and set rents for its use by local inhabitants. Once again, the relationship between the traditional and the modern becomes the overriding issue. However, whereas Falola depicts the ways that familiarity with the modern benefited his father and himself, here he illustrates how the results of this interplay between traditional and modern caused great harm to the poor and rural populations, who for the most part lacked both responsible leadership and an effective voice for their concerns. Falola foreshadows the consequences of such irresponsible leadership in rural Nigeria, describing in the last pages of the book the budding of a widespread peasant revolt in which Falola himself would participate on behalf of the downtrodden.

Although not entirely a work of history, A Mouth Sweeter than Salt is concerned greatly with historical context. Although not exclusively an exercise in ethnography, Falola feels obliged to explain the deep-seated significance of everyday beliefs and practices. Despite its rich language and use of Yoruba idioms, proverbs, and morals, it is not primarily a work of literature either, with its strong predisposition towards overt academic explanations of ideas, meanings and contexts. At the same time, however, it is not a work that only an academic audience can enjoy. Its narrative flow is seamless and engaging. Its use of academic theories is simply put, lacking jargon, and always balanced by anecdotes to illustrate the point being made. While the politics of tradition and modernity is one major theme that sticks out, other themes are apparent as well, including, among many others, the pervasiveness of religion and its uses in Yoruba society, the tension between community and individual concerns, and gender roles in the African setting. It is this balance of so many ideas and approaches wrapped in a compelling narrative of childhood memories that makes A Mouth Sweeter than Salt such an interesting and valuable read for anyone with an interest in the African experience.