This article was written by Isaac Yebio of Walter Johnson High School
Africa is one of the most diverse areas in the world, packed with hundreds of distinct languages, cultures and kingdoms. In every part of the continent, from the north where the pyramids stand tall to the east where the oceans run red with color, exist societies predating even the most powerful of Europes. They follow their beliefs with dignity and poise, singing respect to those who’ve come before them. In West Africa, one such group of people known as the Yoruba praise deities of the elements and earth for safety, and pray to their ancestors for guidance and protection of their fate.
But little exposure to the depth of these societies has been seen in the media, specifically western media. Lack of proper representation damages the perception of these lands, especially in prevalent genres such as YA, which acts as a major influence on the majority of American teenagers. Diversity has always been an issue for the white-dominated narratives being promoted every year, leaving out all the people of color who have equally important stories to share. But thankfully, with Tomi Adeyemi’s 2018 New York Times bestseller Children of Blood and Bone, a new perspective has been brought to light, one that encompasses both the bright mythological tales of Africa’s past and the dark modern-day issues seen before Africans and African-Americans today.
Published on March 6, 2018, Children of Blood and Bone tells the tale of the young heroine Zélie Adebola and her journey across the mythical kingdom of Orïsha to restore magic across the land, a decade after it was shut off by the royal family. After awakening her abilities through coming in contact with an ancient scroll, Zélie hopes to bring all magic users, known as Maji, back to Orïsha and overthrow the cruel oligarchy ruling the citizens. Accompanied by her brother Tzain and the princess of the land Amara, the three face trials and tribulations in each part of Orïsha they come through; they nearly drown in the aquatic arena of Ibeji, are hunted by soldiers in the temple of Chândomblé and narrowly escape the capital city, Lagos, alive. The three heroes are chased around by the crown prince of the kingdom, Amara’s brother Inan, who too awakened magic but must keep it hidden to remain in the good bearings of his father, King Saran.
The story combines West African mythology such as the deities that the Maji worship and brutal real-life issues like colorism and police brutality to create a tale that is both wondrous and politically poignant. In this decade’s climate where social movements like Black Lives Matter are hyper-visible in both mainstream media and our everyday lives, Children of Blood and Bones offers a heartbreaking but realistic depiction of how racist law enforcement systems target marginalized groups and destabilizes communities. The divîners, people who are capable of using magic, are forced into serfdom and slavery after their abilities were shut off by the royals, and are routinely brutalized by soldiers and guards of the capital. The book portrays horrific events happening to both our heroine and the surrounding divîners that comes eerily similar to the tragic murders of many Black individuals like Elijah Mclain and George Floyd.
Seeing the deaths brought tears to my eyes as images from the news scrolled through my head. The painful reality displayed in the story connected with me immediately and I truly felt impacted by the message of the story. It wasn’t the first time I had ever read about state-funded violence against Black people, but it was the first time I could ever imagine myself in the characters shoes. As a Black man myself, I truly felt connected to the portrayal and how it relates to my reality. Overall, I thought the book tackled it’s social issues with grace, poise, and added a fresh perspective to the mix.
While Children of Blood and Bone might not be the first book to talk about police brutality, it differs from other books in its centering on these marginalized groups in the book’s narrative of police brutality. Children of Blood and Bone lets us know how these marginalized characters feel from their circumstances, especially in the case of Zélie. In the course of her arc, we explore through her thoughts of her fear of confronting the oppressive forces killing her people after witnessing so much bloodshed. The marginalized groups are given both the mic and platform in the discussion of police brutality. But in the majority of other popular novels highlighting racism, most notably Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, white people are centered in the hero role and only their point of view is shown on racism; this furthers a white-savior narrative that has plagued most of the pop culture for the past couple of decades. But luckily, Children of Blood and Bone doesn't just represent marginalized groups in its narrative—it celebrates them, it roisters them.
But perhaps my favorite aspect of the book is the touching on colorism. The kingdom is divided into a distinct caste system, where those higher up on the scale boast lighter skin than their poorer, darker counterparts, the majority of whom are divîners. Even Amara, the princess of Orisha, highlights her darker skin as a negative compared to the other fairer-skinned female royals. As the character meets more of the divîners and enslaved Maji, the contrasting tone of the skin continues to be emphasized.
While it may seem unimportant in the larger scope of the narrative, it holds an almost fulcrum role in the development of the world. Although the majority of both African and African-Americans are dark skin, colorism is prevalent in almost every part of the black diaspora. The impacts of colorism range from the preference towards white and light-skin women in African-American men and the hatred towards the darker ones to the bleaching industry, which has flourished in numerous African countries. While colorism might have stemmed from colonial settlement by Europeans, its damage is still everywhere hundreds of years later.
Tomi Adeyemi’s choice of portraying this issue in the book is not purposeless. It further represents the struggle of black people and the colonial ideas that still have a firm grasp on society. It is no coincidence that the two main heroines of Children of Blood and Bone are darker-skinned, and they are two of the most beautiful female characters in the entire novel. As a darker-skin Black person myself, I couldn’t help but feel sparks of joy seeing people of my complexion be heroes, be warriors, be leaders. Representing Black people begins with representing us in all of our shades, regardless of the tone, and Adeyemi does so perfectly.
Beautifully written and fully developed, this book will take you through the kingdom of Orisha on a ride you will not want to get off of. Children of Blood and Bone marks the beginning of a new age for the YA genre. While there is a long way to go before true equality is seen in our literature, Tomi Adeyemi takes a bold step forward with this magical and heart wrenching entry into what can only be the beginning of an exalted series of books.
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