Olive Witch: A Memoir of In-Betweenness Zabed Wali

Abeer Y. Hoque is a distinct voice in the field of Bangladeshi English literature. Olive Witch is her captivating memoir that narrates her childhood in Nigeria, where she spent the first thirteen years of her life, followed by her arrival in the United States in pursuit of higher studies at the University of Pennsylvania. The book concludes with her return to Bangladesh on the eve of the twenty-first century. Thus, the memoir may be viewed as having a tripartite structure.

“Candour” and “poetic” are the two words that best describe Hoque’s style. She does not so much recount the events of childhood as capture minute details—sights and sounds—that are highly evocative and lyrical. For example, to describe the seasonal pattern in Nigeria she uses the word harmattan, which resonates deeply with readers familiar with Chinua Achebe’s classic novel Things Fall Apart.

Hoque received her schooling at the University of Nigeria Secondary School, where she experienced what she terms a colonial education system marked by rote learning and corporal punishment. She learned geometry at the age of eight, and her spoken and written English were pitch-perfect. She remained at the top of her class for years and consistently achieved the highest marks in every subject. As she recounts her life story, Hoque speaks openly about the bouts of depression she experienced. Her hospital admissions are narrated in the third person, adding a layer of emotional distance and reflection to her account.

The second part of the book narrates her days in the United States, where we encounter her as a thirteen-year-old adolescent at a school in Pittsburgh. In America, she is perceived primarily as “the girl from Africa,” an alienated presence. By the end of her first year in an American school, she realizes that she has not made a single friend. She maintains contact instead through letters to two friends in Nigeria, Nneka and Matu. She also writes movingly about celebrating Eid in a foreign land, where Bangladeshi Muslims from her neighborhood would take time off work in the morning to attend prayers at the mosque. This experience powerfully echoes the diasporic impulse to recreate a sense of home away from home.

Later, she attends the University of Pennsylvania. She describes her first two years at Penn as a haze, with every experience feeling both intimate and disconnected. She senses that her body is so immersed in the world around her that details overwhelm her, dissolving all sense of boundaries. She views herself as a conflicted immigrant—her ties to Nigeria growing increasingly tenuous, an American in Bangladeshi clothes, and a Bangladeshi with an American attitude.

The third part of the memoir portrays her arrival in Bangladesh, landing at Zia International Airport on a damp, sweat-soaked day. What immediately strikes her is the pollution and dust. She stays at her relatives’ house in Uttara and notes the nationwide strike that is underway. She also observes the overwhelming number of rickshaws crowding the roads. During her stay, she visits the Liberation War Museum, where the memorabilia of 1971 evoke memories of the Biafran War in Nigeria. She candidly admits that her Bangla is weak and that she speaks to her father in English, as she did in America. She also recounts her visit to the Ekushey Book Fair and her visit to the Shaheed Minar on 21 February.

The chapter titled “Green Green Is the Ground” describes her journey to the village of Barahipur in Feni, the home of her paternal grandfather. She vividly captures the rural soundscape—the cheeping of chicks, the quacking of ducks, and the unending hum of human conversation. Olive Witch is a must-read for anyone interested in Bangladeshi English literature. The very title of the book is significant, as the writer holds the reader’s attention like a magician. Readers with a love for poetry will also find the epigraphs at the beginning of each chapter particularly thought-provoking.