The American Embassy
The chapter opens with the unnamed narrator, a woman in her forties, standing near the back of a two‑hundred‑person queue outside the American embassy in Lagos, clutching a blue plastic file of documents. She ignores the bustling street vendors, beggars, and ice‑cream bicycles, focusing instead on keeping her mind “blank” as instructed by Dr Balogun, the doctor who had recently treated her twisted back after a balcony fall. A man behind her repeatedly asks for change and comments on a soldier flogging a bespectacled man across the street, illustrating the brutal atmosphere.
The narrator reflects on recent traumatic events: two days earlier she buried her four‑year‑old son Ugonna in a grave near the family’s ancestral village of Umunnachi; the day before she helped her husband, a journalist, escape Lagos in the boot of a car; and the day before that her life seemed ordinary, taking Ugonna to school and listening to music. She remembers the husband’s daring journalism exposing General Abacha’s coup sham, his subsequent arrest, torture (a scar on his forehead), and his eventual escape to Benin Republic with the aid of a co‑editor, later obtaining a U.S. visa from a training course in Atlanta and planning to seek asylum in New York.
While waiting, soldiers continue to beat civilians; a group of three men in black trousers later break into her flat, assault her, and threaten her about her husband’s whereabouts, forcing her to claim he “just left yesterday.” One of the men, a blood‑shot, hooded figure, slaps her and threatens her violently, while Ugonna’s crying and later bloodied body are described in vivid flashbacks. A compassionate stranger behind her offers her oranges, but she declines, aware of the pain in her back.
The line moves forward as the embassy gates open for the first fifty applicants. The narrator finally reaches the visa window, where an interviewer asks for details. She plans to mention Ugonna’s death but hesitates, aware that the officer may doubt her story. When asked for evidence of government involvement, she admits she buried the proof with her son’s body. The interviewer expresses sympathy but stresses the need for proof; the narrator can only state “Yes, they were government agents,” without documentation. The interview ends ambiguously as the narrator walks out, passing the beggars and the chaotic crowd, and drives away, uncertain of her fate.