A solitary construction hard hat, laying upside down in antithesis of its primary function, is our introduction to Let Me Call You Back by Jackson Biko, a witty drama about a man who the gods can’t stop pissing on. Just like his upside down hard hat, Samora, our protagonist, sits uselessly in a therapist’s office, walking us through the downfall of his family and career, starting with the loss of his job delivered by an HR manager so realistically portrayed that I wanted to punch Levi on Samora’s behalf. From this bleak HR office to his hard-earned apartment to the eventual single bed Samora now occupies, it’s a slow descent into a situation no one ever thinks they will end up in because we all believe the myth passed onto us that all you need to do is keep working and your problems will always be solved.
Through every decision Samora makes, starting with the first lie he tells his wife when they first meet, Biko shines a light on how a Kenyan man navigates his life affected by societal
expectations, upbringing, the burden of black tax and masculinity. Our unreliable narrator shows us that as a man in modern-day Nairobi, you don’t just wake up and follow a set routine. You wake up and pick up your burdens one by one, making sure to adjust accordingly to any that might have become a little heavier, and only when you have handled them all can you lie to rest before picking them back up again the next day. Samora chooses not to drop any of his burdens when he loses his job, and this one decision causes a domino effect that leaves him bereft of everything he worked hard to achieve. The most frustrating part is understanding why he makes this decision, even though it is clear that he has a support system. But when you have been carrying these burdens alone for so long, can you really stop and ask for help when they pin you down to the floor?
As a woman, I found myself both deeply frustrated by and equally sympathetic to Samora, which is where Biko’s writing truly shines. You get to see that even though there are aspects of a man’s life that he finds difficult to navigate or feel burdened by, in the end, a lack of communication will lead to self-imposed isolation that will one day make all his fears a reality.
Biko’s delightfully colourful descriptions and masterful character portrayals will take you on a rollercoaster, or should I say matatu ride (because who needs gravity-defying loops when you can get the same thrill in a matatu on a highway), of emotions that culminate in an open ending that leaves you wondering whether it’s okay to move on and pick yourself back up after hitting rock bottom and then finding out there’s a basement. I say pick up this book and don’t put it down until it’s done.
About the Reviewer
Lucy Munene is a food photographer and book lover who won’t stop until she has eaten and read her way through the world. You can find out more about her work on theinkedkitchen.com.