Cover of Ghostroots
    FictionGothic FictionHistorical FictionHorror

    Ghostroots

    by Aguda, ‘Pemi
    “Ghostroots” by ‘Pemi Aguda is a debut short story collection set in Lagos, Nigeria, blending the mundane with the supernatural. The twelve stories explore themes of inheritance, maternal lineage, and haunting legacies, often focusing on women grappling with familial and societal burdens. Aguda’s prose weaves unsettling yet deeply human narratives, where everyday life intersects with spectral presences. Notable stories include “Breastmilk,” which delves into generational trauma. The collection has been praised for its elegant voice and was a finalist for the National Book Award for Fiction, marking Aguda as a significant new voice in contemporary literature.

    The chap­ter opens with the pro­tag­o­nist return­ing from a week­end get­away to learn about her moth­er’s involve­ment in a fatal car acci­dent. While stay­ing at a friend’s man­sion to avoid her moth­er’s scruti­ny, she receives a call from her father, who reveals that her moth­er hit and killed a young woman dur­ing a heavy rain­storm on the Ibadan Express­way. The fam­i­ly of the deceased has cho­sen not to involve the police, and her moth­er, though finan­cial­ly com­pen­sat­ing them, is emo­tion­al­ly shat­tered. The pro­tag­o­nist rush­es home to find her moth­er incon­solable, wrapped in grief and guilt, a stark con­trast to her usu­al com­posed demeanor.

    Upon arriv­ing home, the pro­tag­o­nist attempts to com­fort her moth­er, but her efforts are met with hos­til­i­ty. When she makes a dark joke about the inef­fi­cien­cy of the jus­tice sys­tem, her moth­er slaps her—an unprece­dent­ed act of vio­lence that shocks the pro­tag­o­nist. This moment under­scores the depth of her moth­er’s trau­ma and the strained rela­tion­ship between them. The moth­er’s obses­sion with attend­ing the vic­tim’s bur­ial fur­ther high­lights her des­per­a­tion for abso­lu­tion, even as the deceased’s fam­i­ly rejects her pres­ence, leav­ing her to grap­ple with her guilt in iso­la­tion.

    The moth­er’s grief takes a haunt­ing turn as she recounts the acci­dent in vivid detail, com­par­ing the vic­tim’s weight to her daugh­ter’s and describ­ing the futile attempt to save her life. This mono­logue reveals the moth­er’s psy­cho­log­i­cal tor­ment, blur­ring the lines between the vic­tim and her own child. Mean­while, the pro­tag­o­nist dis­cov­ers a tem­po­rary voter’s reg­is­tra­tion card belong­ing to the deceased, Eyi­tayo Omo­lade Ogun­le­si, which her moth­er has kept as a mor­bid keep­sake. The card human­izes the vic­tim, forc­ing the pro­tag­o­nist to con­front the real­i­ty of the life lost, though she resists delv­ing deep­er into the vic­tim’s iden­ti­ty.

    The chap­ter clos­es with the pro­tag­o­nist reflect­ing on her moth­er’s ten­den­cy to pre­emp­tive­ly pun­ish her for imag­ined trans­gres­sions, a pat­tern that has defined their rela­tion­ship. Despite her desire to escape through par­ties and alco­hol, she stays by her moth­er’s side, resent­ful yet resigned to her role as the care­tak­er. The moth­er’s assump­tion that her daugh­ter would pri­or­i­tize fun over fam­i­ly under­scores their mutu­al mis­un­der­stand­ing, leav­ing the pro­tag­o­nist to nav­i­gate the com­plex­i­ties of guilt, grief, and famil­ial duty.

    FAQs

    • 1. How does the narrator’s relationship with her mother evolve throughout the chapter, and what key incident catalyzes this change?

      Answer:
      The narrator’s relationship with her mother shifts from one of habitual tension to a more complex dynamic following the fatal car accident. Initially, the narrator avoids her mother’s calls and critiques (evidenced by turning off her phone to escape questioning). However, after her mother accidentally kills a young woman, the narrator becomes a reluctant caretaker. The pivotal moment occurs when her mother slaps her after an insensitive comment about the justice system—the first physical violence in their relationship. This incident marks a turning point where the mother’s grief manifests as aggression, while the daughter oscillates between resentment and reluctant compassion, as seen when she pockets the victim’s ID card to spare her mother further pain.

      2. Analyze the symbolic significance of the temporary voter’s registration card in the chapter. How does it deepen the themes of guilt and anonymity?

      Answer:
      The victim’s voter card symbolizes the collision between impersonal bureaucracy and profound personal loss. While the card reduces Eyitayo Omolade Ogunlesi to sterile statistics (height, blood type, registration location), the narrator’s fixation on its blunt edges and imagined backstory (“lazy, smart, loved?”) underscores the erasure of her humanity. The card becomes a physical token of the mother’s guilt—she clings to it as a distorted keepsake, while the narrator’s act of pocketing it reflects both a desire to shield her mother and an avoidance of confronting the victim’s personhood. This duality mirrors the broader theme of how systemic failures (like inadequate road safety) render tragedies both anonymous and deeply intimate.

      3. How does weather function as both a literal and metaphorical force in the accident’s aftermath?

      Answer:
      Weather operates on multiple levels: literally, the “crazy rain” during the accident obscures visibility and floods roads, contributing to the crash. Metaphorically, it reflects emotional turmoil. The rain “slapping” the mother’s body as she carries the dying girl mirrors the violence of her guilt. Later, the narrator’s description of her mother’s “disintegration” on the sofa echoes the earlier flooding—both suggest overwhelming, uncontrollable forces. Even the “too-bright” phone screen upon receiving the news contrasts with the storm, emphasizing the jarring intersection of mundane technology and life-altering grief.

      4. Evaluate the narrator’s conflicted attitude toward her mother’s grief. What does her response reveal about their relationship dynamics?

      Answer:
      The narrator vacillates between empathy and resentment. While she attempts comfort (“We have to be grateful for the ineptitude of our justice system”), her tone is flippant, triggering her mother’s slap—a moment revealing their fractured communication. Her internal monologue critiques her mother’s assumptions (e.g., expecting her to prioritize parties) yet she stays to care for her. This push-pull dynamic reflects years of preemptive criticism from the mother (e.g., cutting her hair to prevent “vanity”) that has bred defensiveness. The narrator’s act of stealing the voter card—an unspoken gesture of protection—hints at a deeper, unarticulated love beneath their adversarial patterns.

      5. How does the chapter use physical objects (the phone, adire boubou, voter card) to convey emotional states? Provide specific examples.

      Answer:
      Objects serve as emotional proxies throughout the chapter:

      • The phone symbolizes fractured connections—the narrator turns it off to avoid her mother, but its “too-bright” reboot heralds grim news, while later unanswered calls to the victim’s brother underscore helplessness.
      • The adire boubou (indigo-dyed robe) mirrors the mother’s unraveling; its “amorphous swirls” reflect her disordered grief as she stains it with tears and food.
      • The voter card embodies the weight of guilt and anonymity. Its blunt edges contrast with the sharpness of the mother’s trauma, while the narrator’s pocketing of it becomes a tactile metaphor for suppressed grief.
        These objects anchor abstract emotions in tangible details, deepening the narrative’s psychological realism.

    Quotes

    • 1. “The divorce has been final for almost two years, how am I still her emergency contact? […] She needs to make you her next of kin.”

      This quote reveals the father’s self-centeredness and the fractured family dynamics, setting the tone for the narrator’s strained relationships. It introduces the theme of responsibility (or avoidance thereof) that permeates the chapter.

      2. “She was mewling—low and sad and heart-wrenching. […] sounds that reminded me of a horror movie where the woman is haunted by her dead children.”

      This visceral description captures the mother’s profound grief and guilt over the accident, showing how trauma has reduced her to primal sounds. The horror movie simile foreshadows how this event will haunt both mother and daughter.

      3. “‘I had to carry her,’ my mother said, ‘after I hit her […] imagine me carrying you now […] and I was telling her don’t die, don’t die, don’t die, […] but she died, she still died.’”

      The chapter’s titular quote represents the mother’s traumatic confession, blending physical burden with emotional weight. The parallel between the victim and daughter (“imagine me carrying you”) makes the death painfully personal.

      4. “She was always one step ahead, reprimanding me for a crime that had not been committed, correcting a mistake I had not yet even conceived.”

      This insight into the mother-daughter relationship shows how the mother’s controlling nature has shaped the narrator’s resentment. It contextualizes their current dynamic amid the accident’s aftermath.

    Quotes

    1. “The divorce has been final for almost two years, how am I still her emergency contact? […] She needs to make you her next of kin.”

    This quote reveals the father’s self-centeredness and the fractured family dynamics, setting the tone for the narrator’s strained relationships. It introduces the theme of responsibility (or avoidance thereof) that permeates the chapter.

    2. “She was mewling—low and sad and heart-wrenching. […] sounds that reminded me of a horror movie where the woman is haunted by her dead children.”

    This visceral description captures the mother’s profound grief and guilt over the accident, showing how trauma has reduced her to primal sounds. The horror movie simile foreshadows how this event will haunt both mother and daughter.

    3. “‘I had to carry her,’ my mother said, ‘after I hit her […] imagine me carrying you now […] and I was telling her don’t die, don’t die, don’t die, […] but she died, she still died.’”

    The chapter’s titular quote represents the mother’s traumatic confession, blending physical burden with emotional weight. The parallel between the victim and daughter (“imagine me carrying you”) makes the death painfully personal.

    4. “She was always one step ahead, reprimanding me for a crime that had not been committed, correcting a mistake I had not yet even conceived.”

    This insight into the mother-daughter relationship shows how the mother’s controlling nature has shaped the narrator’s resentment. It contextualizes their current dynamic amid the accident’s aftermath.

    FAQs

    1. How does the narrator’s relationship with her mother evolve throughout the chapter, and what key incident catalyzes this change?

    Answer:
    The narrator’s relationship with her mother shifts from one of habitual tension to a more complex dynamic following the fatal car accident. Initially, the narrator avoids her mother’s calls and critiques (evidenced by turning off her phone to escape questioning). However, after her mother accidentally kills a young woman, the narrator becomes a reluctant caretaker. The pivotal moment occurs when her mother slaps her after an insensitive comment about the justice system—the first physical violence in their relationship. This incident marks a turning point where the mother’s grief manifests as aggression, while the daughter oscillates between resentment and reluctant compassion, as seen when she pockets the victim’s ID card to spare her mother further pain.

    2. Analyze the symbolic significance of the temporary voter’s registration card in the chapter. How does it deepen the themes of guilt and anonymity?

    Answer:
    The victim’s voter card symbolizes the collision between impersonal bureaucracy and profound personal loss. While the card reduces Eyitayo Omolade Ogunlesi to sterile statistics (height, blood type, registration location), the narrator’s fixation on its blunt edges and imagined backstory (“lazy, smart, loved?”) underscores the erasure of her humanity. The card becomes a physical token of the mother’s guilt—she clings to it as a distorted keepsake, while the narrator’s act of pocketing it reflects both a desire to shield her mother and an avoidance of confronting the victim’s personhood. This duality mirrors the broader theme of how systemic failures (like inadequate road safety) render tragedies both anonymous and deeply intimate.

    3. How does weather function as both a literal and metaphorical force in the accident’s aftermath?

    Answer:
    Weather operates on multiple levels: literally, the “crazy rain” during the accident obscures visibility and floods roads, contributing to the crash. Metaphorically, it reflects emotional turmoil. The rain “slapping” the mother’s body as she carries the dying girl mirrors the violence of her guilt. Later, the narrator’s description of her mother’s “disintegration” on the sofa echoes the earlier flooding—both suggest overwhelming, uncontrollable forces. Even the “too-bright” phone screen upon receiving the news contrasts with the storm, emphasizing the jarring intersection of mundane technology and life-altering grief.

    4. Evaluate the narrator’s conflicted attitude toward her mother’s grief. What does her response reveal about their relationship dynamics?

    Answer:
    The narrator vacillates between empathy and resentment. While she attempts comfort (“We have to be grateful for the ineptitude of our justice system”), her tone is flippant, triggering her mother’s slap—a moment revealing their fractured communication. Her internal monologue critiques her mother’s assumptions (e.g., expecting her to prioritize parties) yet she stays to care for her. This push-pull dynamic reflects years of preemptive criticism from the mother (e.g., cutting her hair to prevent “vanity”) that has bred defensiveness. The narrator’s act of stealing the voter card—an unspoken gesture of protection—hints at a deeper, unarticulated love beneath their adversarial patterns.

    5. How does the chapter use physical objects (the phone, adire boubou, voter card) to convey emotional states? Provide specific examples.

    Answer:
    Objects serve as emotional proxies throughout the chapter:

    • The phone symbolizes fractured connections—the narrator turns it off to avoid her mother, but its “too-bright” reboot heralds grim news, while later unanswered calls to the victim’s brother underscore helplessness.
    • The adire boubou (indigo-dyed robe) mirrors the mother’s unraveling; its “amorphous swirls” reflect her disordered grief as she stains it with tears and food.
    • The voter card embodies the weight of guilt and anonymity. Its blunt edges contrast with the sharpness of the mother’s trauma, while the narrator’s pocketing of it becomes a tactile metaphor for suppressed grief.
      These objects anchor abstract emotions in tangible details, deepening the narrative’s psychological realism.
    Note