Research Essay

The Illusion of Choice Across Continents and Centuries: Black Women's Agency In The Long Song and On Black Sister's Street

1. Introduction

Slave narratives, both contemporary and historical, examine the concept of agency by highlighting the larger structural elements that limit the characters' individual free choice. Defined by Laura Ahearn as: “the human capacity to act” (1999: 12), agency is the way in which "people's actions influence, and are influenced by, larger social and political structures” (12) and additionally carries a "liberal notion of selfhood, with its emphasis on independence and choice” (Johnson 2003: 115). As such, it is examined in unique ways in the following two novels. Chika Unigwe's work On Black Sister's Street (2010) paints the picture of four African women, Ama, Alek, Sisi, and Efe, who due to various factors become entrapped in a human trafficking ring between Antwerpen, Belgium, and Lagos, Nigeria, in the 21st century. Although one can argue that them joining the sex-work world was an act of personal decision, this essay aims to expose in what ways the characters are inherently trapped and shaped by past trauma, bodily exploitation, and patriarchal structures. In a similar way, Andrea Levy's The Long Song (2017) offers a historical slave narrative set on the Jamaican plantation Amity, in the early 1800s, and depicts the life of July, an enslaved Black woman. Even though the novel shows multiple instances of resistance, this essay will focus on emphasizing that July's agency, from birth, is constrained by the violence of slavery, the power of past trauma, and gendered oppression and exploitation. Among all the literary works discussed in class, these two lend themselves best for an analysis of the illusion of Black women's agency. Despite stark geographical and temporal differences, both texts examine the ways in which Black women are controlled and stripped of their agency under oppressive systems of enslavement. Therefore, this essay aims to explore the Research Questions: How is agency to be revealed as mostly illusory in both novels? And which forces of domination are the characters subjected to? I hypothesize that agency is depicted as an illusion in both works, across continents and centuries, as the female protagonists are affected and manipulated by structures that deny them control over their own lives. This essay will not incorporate a methodology paragraph as it mostly makes use of close textual analysis to gather evidence for its arguments and will not utilize any new theory that was not touched upon in class. My research will first analyze Unigwe's work and the ways in which the characters' agency is undermined by structures of oppression and after this follows the close reading of Levy's novel and July's constrained agency.

2. On Black Sister's Street
2.1 No passport, No Choice

The first way in which agency is revealed to be largely illusory in Unigwe's novel is through the fact that her work situates the four main female characters as modern slaves, trapped in the vicious ring of human trafficking. After Alek gets given away to Dele by Polycarp, she describes her journey from Nigeria to the European continent as follows: “The flight was long. And dark. And lonely. Alek felt like cargo with a tag: Destination Unknown. For what did she know about where she was going? About the children she would be babysitting?” (Unigwe 2010: 233). This passage emphasizes how Alek likens herself using simile to mere cargo or baggage with an unknown destination, highlighting her loss of agency as she is at the mercy of Dele and his human trafficking network. In addition, the enumeration of short phrases signifies her mental state of anguish and confusion as the reality of her life and the fact that she is at the mercy of other people overwhelms her. This is reflected a couple lines later as she inquires with Madam what kind of children she will be babysitting and when Madam starts laughing at Alek's question, she feels “a sandstorm whirling in her, painting the walls a dusty, murkish brown” (233). Unigwe's use of metaphor of a sandstorm here emphasizes the inner distress of Alek as she slowly starts to realize that she is not a babysitter but was trapped to work as a sex worker in Belgium. These various rhetorical devices show that the women are no longer humans with free choice but instead are like cargo which causes them much suffering. Next to their loss of agency, the four women are exploited for their bodies by Madam who does not regard them as independent women but rather as her possession: “Oya, time to open shop! Time to work! Time to work!” (233). The repetition of ‘time’ highlights that Madam perceives Alek as no more than a worker who must be trained to listen to her commands and obey her schedule, like a well-oiled machine. Unigwe's description of a “laughing-dancing-clapping Madam bull[ying] her out of the house” (233) makes use of a strong contrast between the cheerful and joyful Madam and the distressed and paralyzed by fear Alek to add emphasis to the fact that she trapped in the human trafficking network without an escape and with much maltreatment. Madam strips Alek further of her humanity and agency by taking away her means to travel: “No passport. No money. What was she to do?” (234). The use of rhetorical question in this passage affirms that Alek is overcome by distress at her situation because she has no rights and no funds to take control of her life anymore. Sisi describes the same loss of agency at the hands of Madam in an earlier instance in the novel: “She let them run over Sisi, slowly, thoughtfully. As if she was trying to size her up, a commodity for sale, a slab of meat at the local abattoir. ‘Now you belong to me.’” (182). Unigwe's use of similes in this extract likens her to a dead animal or potential prey that is being assessed by her counterpart Madam, who is painted as a predator or customer slowly circling and closing in on Sisi. Her price of freedom per month haunts her before her sleep: “Five hundred. Five hundred. Five hundred. Five hundred. She tossed and turned” (183). The enumeration of the amount of money she is supposed to pay maintains that Sisi is merely an object or possession whose freedom is unattainable. Therefore, agency is an illusion for the four women in the book as they are no longer their own person but are trapped in the human trafficking ring in Antwerpen.

2.2 Lives Lived in Reaction

Another feature of the novel that reaffirms the hypothesis that agency and choice are mere illusions in the plot, is the fact that all female main characters are ruled and affected by past trauma in their lives. Instead of making the decision to move to Europe from a peaceful place, all women are driven by negative circumstances such as abuse, war, unfulfilled dreams, and little opportunities in their home country. Efe begins a relationship with Titus at 15 years old who abandons her once she gets pregnant, and her child becomes the most important factor in her decision making: “‘You really don't regret your son?’ ‘No. Never. Everything I do is for him.’” (Unigwe 2010: 94). This hyperbole underlines that Efe's decision to come to Europe and join Dele's sex work business is not one she made for herself but for her son. Ama's past is much more troubled than that of Efe as she had to live through the horrors of abuse at a very young age at the hands of her stepfather. After she runs away, she lives with Mama Eko in Lagos and meets Dele who wants to ensnare her in his human trafficking business. However, the decision to join Dele's trade is not one she makes of her own violation. Instead, she is haunted by the past and her abuser Brother Cyrill: “Ama watched him laugh and she heard Brother Cyrill call her a lazy good-for-nothing and she pooled saliva in her mouth, released it, aimed at Dele” (165). Unigwe makes use of a brief flashback here to show that Ama is still controlled by her past trauma and that the image of her abuser influences her actions in the present. This becomes even clearer a couple pages later when she allows herself to dream of a new life: “Her thoughts already on a new life far from here . . . [a]nd once she was a big woman, people would respect her, even Brother Cyrill” (169). In this passage, the author underscores that Ama's dreams of owning a successful business are motivated by a need to triumph over her abuser. A character with a similarly traumatic past as Ama is Alek. At a young age her family gets murdered while she gets raped by multiple soldiers of the Janjaweed militia in Sudan. These events weigh heavy on the characters’ shoulders as Unigwe describes the way in which Alek cleans herself after arriving at a UN camp: “Ridding her body of the weight it carried so that by the time she was done she felt reborn. Her feet shone, gleaming in the dark, and her ankles felt light” (195). This extract points out that the past and its horrors are not merely a passive marker of time in the novel, but instead a powerful contributor to the characters’ lives and the choices they make. By using imagery of light and gleaming skin, Unigwe emphasizes that Alek strives to rid herself of the pain she endured in the past as it will control her life throughout the rest of the story. This control becomes evident through the use of flashback when Alek serves her first customer in Antwerpen: “She lay there and remembered the men who has raped her and squeezed her legs together tighter” (234). This moment highlights the power that the past has over Alek and how she is still controlled by it even after moving to a new continent. The characters strive to forget their previous lives and make up stories as a way of making this come true. Sisi, who leaves Nigeria for less traumatic reasons than Alek and Ama, refuses to tell the truth about her past life in Nigeria to her colleagues: “They talked about their childhoods. Sisi made hers up. And she was sure the Albanian woman did too. They were people without any past, people with forgotten pasts, so whatever was said would have to be made up of air” (237). The author compares the women's lies about their past to air in order to symbolize that they are very well accustomed to making up stories and that to them it is a subconscious action like breathing. It becomes clear that the women lie about their past in order to wish an alternate identity into existence. This reinforces that all of the main characters desperately want to shed the past that controls them as it robs them of their agency and free choice.

2.3 Faces of Domination

The last contributor that robs Ama, Alek, Sisi, and Efe of their agency and takes away their choice are the patriarchal structures in which the women are exploited both in Belgium and in Nigeria. There are multiple male characters that control the women in the novel, and the most essential to the plot is Dele. Succinctly described as an "unscrupulous Nigerian trafficker” (Bekers 2015: 27), he appears as the embodiment of patriarchy as he is characterized by very masculine traits and keeps the female characters trapped in the oppressive patriarchal system. The first impression we receive of him is that of a “man with a protuberant stomach” (Unigwe 2010: 30) shouting and physically pushing a young girl into the arms of a hairdresser after which he “brought out a white handkerchief and wiped sweat off his forehead” (31). Unigwe paints the picture of a sweaty, loud bully the first time the reader comes across him. His disgusting appearance is further underlined by his controlling, cold, and objectifying behavior as he recruits Sisi for his business: “‘Who talk say na dat Jennifer Lopez get the finest yansh? Make dem come here come see your assets! As for those melons wey you carry for chest, omo, how you no go fin’ work?’” (43). His comparison of Sisi's body to fruit and Jennifer Lopez reiterates that Dele views her and the other women as mere objects of desire and potential financial gain. Eze remarks on this dynamic: "[T]his appears to be a subtle recreation of the experience of transatlantic slavery (2014: 92) as she emphasizes that Dele fails to regard the women with dignity. This exploitative way of thinking becomes further evident in a later passage where he regards Efe with the same look: “Dele had laughed and said, ‘No. Sales.’ And it was the way he sized her up, his eyes going from her face to her breasts to her calves under her knee-length skirt, that told her what sort of sales she was going to be involved in. She would be Dele and Sons Limited's export” (2010: 82). As the reader learns more and more about Dele and his inhumane business, it becomes crystal clear through passages such as this one that he is every bit as ugly on the inside as he is on the outside. The enumeration of his sweeping gaze, and the simile of Efe being likened to a mere unit of export affirm him as the embodiment of patriarchal oppression as he focuses only on the physical attributes of the women and manipulates them to join his oppressive ring of human trafficking. His superior rank and power that robs the women of their agency becomes evident by ways of Ama's description of his laughter: “‘I shall sample you before you go!’ he laughed. The sound that stretched itself into a square that kept him safe . . . Laughter that ridiculed the receiver for no reason but kept the giver secure in a cocoon of steel’” (168). Dele's ridiculing laughter is a symbol of his patriarchal power and status of wealth. Wrapped safely in his steely cocoon, his superior status and masculine privilege are forces which he was born into and which no one can take away from him. Consequently, the novel's description of him and his physical appearance emphasize the patriarchal systems that have robbed the women of their agency. In Belgium, Dele's counterpart, Madam, who rules over the house in which Ama, Alek, Sisi, and Efe live, is technically a woman, but described in no less masculine terms than him. The most distinguishing parts of her character are her lack of empathy and heartless control over the women which becomes especially apparent after Sisi's death: “She did not try to soften the blow, did not couch the news in a long story about how death was a must, an escape, an entry into a better world” (39). Through this enumeration, Madam is described as the less sexually objectifying extension of Dele when she delivers the news of Sisi's death in a controlled, icy manner. She views the women in the same patriarchal way, as mere puppets of business, but lacks the sexual obscenity of Dele: “[S]he added, ‘Another one bites the dust,’ - in a voice that she might have used to talk about the death of a dog or a cockroach” (39). By likening Sisi to an animal, it becomes apparent that Madam is the European equivalent of Dele and that she shares his position of exploitative superiority and power over the women. Thus, it can be assessed that the four women are stripped of agency over their lives as they are controlled by Dele and Madam who are the embodiments of patriarchal forces and its inherent oppression of women both in Nigeria and Belgium.

3. The Long Song
3.1 Born Into Possession

Similarly to Unigwe's novel, Levy's work portrays a slave narrative, but contrary to the previously discussed work, The Long Song is set in historical Jamaica of the early 1800s on a plantation. Scholars have highlighted "[t]he novel's interest in revisiting critically the construction of the enslaved subject” (Öztabak-Avci 2017: 118), and the author herself, in an interview with Charles Rowell, has accentuated that she wrote this work "to give back a power to the African population in the Caribbean" (Rowell 2015: 268). Gigi Adair builds on this sentiment by describing Levy's work as a historical novel that "demands a place for [B]lack Jamaicans within colonial history, writing them into a history from which they were formerly excluded" (2019: 86). In the beginning, the main character, July, shows similar constraints to the women Ama, Alek, Sisi, and Efe, as she has little freedom to show resistance or make her own choices. This becomes evident when she is meant to do some stitching of her mistress’ dress but instead, she simply cuts off the pocket and gets punished by Caroline: “‘I must punish you, or you will not learn,’ before pricking her hand two more times. And July cried out like a man lashed with a cat-o’-nine-tails” (Levy 2017: 67). Levy's use of simile highlights the violence and agony that the main character must endure in the novel, and the loss of freedom that she experiences at the hands of her mistress. Caroline further makes it very clear that she views July as her possession by stating a couple lines later: “‘Your mama is sold away. She is sold away, you hear me? Sold away. You are mine now’” (67). Through repetition this excerpt underlines that July is trapped in slavery from birth and therefore has none to very little agency in this system of oppression and instead of being regarded as her own person Caroline views her as an object of possession. Her failure to treat July as a human becomes clear from the start when the mistress of the farm simply takes her away from her mother Kitty and she uses language similar to when describing a pet or animal: “‘Oh, she's adorable,’ ‘Can I take her?,’ ‘I could train her for the house’” (44). The use of derogatory language emphasizes July's loss of agency from a very young age on which is most notably manifested in Caroline's renaming of the young girl: “‘Marguerite, Marguerite!’ That is Caroline Mortimer calling out for July. She had resolved to call her slave Marguerite, for she liked the way the name tripped upon her tongue like a trill” (55). The use of alliteration of the crisp, harsh sound ‘t’ accentuates the coldness with which Caroline treats her slave and maintains the loss of agency and anguish that July experiences trapped on Amity. Whenever July sits in the kitchen crying out for her mother, she describes her grief as follows: “The longing for her mama became a pain within her fierce as hunger” (67), comparing her yearning to the deep, aching feeling of hunger and simultaneously emphasizing the inherent necessity of desiring her mother's comfort the same way she needs sustenance. Her hope for escape and freedom is compared to “the blazing light . . . [of] the sun” (67) in the doorframe as she searches for escape from the shackles of slavery. Lastly, as a violent symbol of the white plantation owners’ power over their slaves, July describes the dungeon. Caroline is not aware of it until the slaves point it out to her and beg her to come visit in order to shut it down. The same way that she cannot comprehend that it is inhumane of her to treat the workers on Amity like animals or worse, she seems to be blind to the horrors of the dungeon: “[W]ith a look of pity, but a roll of her eye she sweetly said, ‘What nonsense’” (203). All of this highlights the complete loss of freedom and agency that July is subjected to from birth onwards due to her being born and raised in the oppressive system of slavery in Jamaica.

3.2 A Past That Will Not Be Silenced

Equally as important as in Unigwe's book, the influence of the past and its horrors is undeniable in the story of July. She undergoes many traumatic events beginning with Caroline taking her away from her mother, her being raised in slavery and violence, her witnessing Nimrod's death, giving away her son, witnessing the violent slave rebellion, and watching her mother die. July herself as the narrator of her story finds it difficult to relate these events to us and the punishments she had to endure: “Should I paint a scene so you may conceive of how often the sizzle of the sun's heat fried July's skin to blisters” (Levy 2017: 190). Through her address to the reader it becomes evident how much pain her memories still bring her in the present moment and how only in retrospect she can accurately understand and portray the changes that her identity underwent: “In those dark days our July - that mischievous girl that you have come to know . . . that grinning girl . . . was forsaken by her ravaged spirit” (191). In this passage, Levy constructs a devastating contrast in July's personality that strongly illuminates how she had no control over the impact of these traumatic events as the past fundamentally transformed her persona. Additionally, the past appears in her daily life through many unwanted flashbacks, triggered by the tiniest of details: “[E]ach tree she did gaze upon saw her lost-found-lost mama dangling there . . . [e]very mouthful she ate tasted of Nimrod's blood [a]nd always beneath her feet, a low rumbling of galloping horses” (191). Even though July recounts these events many years later, they still hold a strong hold over her and result in her refusal to continue the story. Through hyperbole, the excerpt underlines the way that the traumatic events of the past have left July with little agency over her life and much less control over their impact on her character.

3.3 From Favor to Subjugation

Another contributor that robs July of her agency is the fact that she is a woman and that similarly to the characters in On Black Sister's Street, she carries the double burden of being a Black woman in a patriarchal structure on the plantation. This becomes most prominent through Robert Goodwin and his treatment of July and the other slaves. In the beginning he is presented as progressive and treats her with kindness, but later it turns out that he takes advantage of his superior white, male position on the plantation. This allows him to exploit and reduce her to the patriarchal stereotype of a subservient woman: “Robert Goodwin, with so little care, snapped upon her, ‘You heard your mistress, Marguerite. Bring some water'” (Levy 2017: 326). His commandeering words strike July so harshly and illuminate how after a phase of affection she has finally been demoted again to the status of a slave woman who has no agency and only lives to serve her masters. By ways of using rhetorical questions: “[W]as it not July who nursed the pickney of the master of this house? Was it not July who wore his gold cross and chain about her neck? Was it not July who, curled tight within Robert Goodwin's heart, unfurled only at his will?” (326) it becomes clear that Goodwin has exploited July for his own sexual desire, and now, after having received what he wanted, he has the power and rank to simply discard her again. This imbalance of power clearly illuminates the loss of agency that July experiences at his hands. His patriarchal control comes to a climax when he attacks her while out in the field cutting sugar cane: “[H]e caught her throat so tight within his hand that her tongue protruded under the grasp . . . [and] July heard herself crying, ‘Mercy, massa, mercy’” (333). The alliteration of ‘m’ as Goodwin threatens her with a machete illuminates his anger humming in the air as the cycle comes to a close and July is completely reduced to the inferior position of an enslaved Black woman again. Therefore, it becomes clear that at the hands of the patriarch of the plantation, Richard Goodwin, July is first elevated among the other women on Amity, but in the end experiences a detrimental loss of agency due to his exploitative and manipulative agenda.

4. Conclusion

To conclude, this essay has analyzed how both novels illustrate Black women's agency as governed and constrained by larger systems of oppression rather than being depicted as autonomous choice. Unigwe's work focuses on how agency is undermined by the net of human trafficking, the persistent horrors of the past, and the power of the patriarchy. The close reading of Levy's book emphasizes the influence of slavery's systemic oppression, endurance of trauma, and sexual exploitation. Despite the geographical and temporal differences of the novels, they illuminate in similar manner the systemic oppression of Black women ranging from historical plantation slavery to modern human trafficking. Thus, this essay has revealed the disturbing continuity of the control and mistreatment of Black women. While the context of these exploitations may vary, the forces that restrict Black women remain deeply entrenched in patriarchal and capitalist systems.

Word Count: 4,196

5. Works Cited

Adair, Gigi. “‘As Constricting as the Corset They Bind Me in to Keep Me a Lady’: Colonial Historiography in Andrea Levy’s The Long Song.” Kinship Across the Black Atlantic: Writing Diasporic Relations, Liverpool University Press, 2019, pp. 85–104. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctvsn3nx5.7.

Ahearn, Laura M. “Agency.” Journal of Linguistic Anthropology, vol. 9, no. 1/2, 1999, pp. 12–15. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43102414.

Bekers, Elisabeth. “Writing Africa in Belgium, Europe: A Conversation with Chika Unigwe.” Research in African Literatures, vol. 46, no. 4, 2015, pp. 26–34. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2979/reseafrilite.46.4.26.

Eze, Chielozona. “Feminism with a Big ‘F’: Ethics and the Rebirth of African Feminism in Chika Unigwe’s On Black Sisters’ Street.” Research in African Literatures, vol. 45, no. 4, 2014, pp. 89–103. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2979/reseafrilite.45.4.89.

Johnson, Walter. “On Agency.” Journal of Social History, vol. 37, no. 1, 2003, pp. 113–24. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3790316.

Levy, Andrea. The Long Song. Tinder Press, 2017.

Levy, Andrea, and Charles Henry Rowell. “An Interview With Andrea Levy.” Callaloo, vol. 38, no. 2, 2015, pp. 257–81. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24738249.

Öztabak-Avcı, Elif. “‘Playing Bad for White Ears’: A Study of the Narratee in Andrea Levy’s ‘The Long Song.’” Journal of Narrative Theory, vol. 47, no. 1, 2017, pp. 117–42. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/45274963.

Unigwe, Chika. On Black Sister's Street. Vintage, 2010.