BOOK REVIEW: Dele Weds Destiny by Tomi Obaro

Note: this book was read and reviewed by me in January of 2024 on a previous site that no longer exists.

Dele Weds Destiny has been on my radar for months, and I’m happy I've finally gotten a chance to read it.

I wasn't sure what to expect from this. The title suggests a romance, but the Goodreads summary—which is ridiculously long, by the way—makes it out to be some sort of drama.

I think going in, I was hoping for a bit of both.

In the end, I’m not sure if I got either.

Dele and Destiny is a story of enduring female friendships centered around Enitan, Funmi, and Zainab, who meet in college and then become separated by time and secrets.

Now, thirty years later, they are united again in the event of the century: the wedding of Funmi’s daughter, Destiny.

Not about Dele or Destiny

From the beginning, it is clear who the main characters are, and it's, in fact, not Dele or Destiny. 

We are given just about one on-page interaction between the two, and it is not enough to get a sense of who either of them is.

Instead, the story focuses on three drastically different women.

The main story opens with Enitan, the quietest of the trio, as she sets foot on Nigerian soil for only the second time since eloping with her soon-to-be ex-husband, Charles, almost twenty years ago.

She has her daughter, Remi, in tow, and it’s obvious that their relationship is strained, worsened by the recent news of Enitan and Charles’ divorce.

By this point, I was curious. I was looking forward to a dramatic story—maybe a few catfights, a few mother-daughter meltdowns, or something like that. 

This anticipation is heightened when we meet Zainab on a bus en route from Kaduna to Lagos.

Robbers with guns swarm her bus, taking their valuables and shooting the driver, but they are also dumb enough to leave the key in the ignition.

Here, I thought that if there are robbers, then I would be in for a treat. 

Next, we meet Funmi, the bride's loud, impatient, brash, and occasionally rude mother.

She is overwhelmed with wedding planning, annoyed at her obnoxious in-laws, and frustrated with her husband’s inattentiveness. I couldn’t wait to see how these conflicts would come to a head.

Well, they don’t.

There are no catfights, no real mother-daughter meltdowns, and no blow-ups between wife and husband or wife and ex-husband.

If I’d known that the robbery at the 5% mark would be the most dramatic point of the story, I doubt I would have continued reading.

20% In

By the 20% mark, we’ve met all the important characters.

Destiny turns out to be a mousy creature who shrinks in her mother’s large presence.

From what we see of Dele, he seems like the type of person who wants nothing more than to be important, and Destiny is probably just another checklist on his list for achieving that goal. 

Despite all this, we don’t understand what the central conflict is. The title suggests it has something to do with Dele and Destiny’s relationship, but they get so little page time, and there are all these other narrative threads.

I had no idea what the rest of the book would entail. But I was content to carry on because of the writing.

The Writing

The writing is descriptive and compelling and Ms. Obaro excels at capturing setting.

Nigeria comes alive on the page.

I was completely immersed in the streets, the clothes, the people, and the events. It brought back fond memories because Nigeria is now a little different than at the time of this book.

Obaro also does a good job of giving each of the trio distinct voices and characteristics.

She also skillfully depicts the sometimes-veiled homophobia and racism that is ingrained in Nigerian culture. She does it without comment, like a casual observer, presenting it to the reader as what it is.

It made me uncomfortable, yet as a Nigerian, I cannot deny its existence.

40% In

By the forty percent point, I was fed up with Funmi.

While initially, it's refreshing to have a strong female character who isn't mousy, gentle, or patient, her abrasive attitude quickly becomes irritating, especially when it comes to her relationship with Destiny. 

The reader, Destiny's godmother Zainab, Remi—basically everyone except Funmi can see the truth. Destiny doesn't want this wedding.

Whether it's because she sees something in Dele that bothers her or because everything is happening too fast, she is obviously reluctant.

Even when Destiny tries to speak up, Funmi dismisses her concerns.

Like so many Nigerian parents, Funmi steam-rolls Destiny into doing her bid, never stopping to ask what she wants. Straight out of the Nigerian Parent Playbook, she claims Destiny would speak up if she didn't agree while simultaneously shutting down any attempts to do so with a dismissive glance or gesture. 

Like Destiny, many children learn that it's easier to follow their parents' plans and hope that they'll find something enjoyable in them.

But every child must eventually find their voice, and Destiny takes her sweet time finding hers. 

I couldn't wait for the inevitable climax, in which the wedding would undoubtedly blow up in Funmi's face. 

That's why I was surprised and annoyed when the story abruptly moves from the present back to the 1980s.

The Detour

The story of the friendship between Funmi, Zainab and Enitan is told through two timelines—the 1980s when they meet in university and December 2015 when they reunite for Funmi’s daughter, Destiny's, wedding. 

Even now, I don't understand the point of the lengthy flashback.

Details about the past—Damola’s tragic end, Zainab and Ahmed’s love, Enitan’s elopement—are already woven into the prose of the present (and anything that is not included can honestly be found in the ridiculously long Goodreads summary). 

The flashback revealed only one new, marginally relevant piece of information: Basically, Funmi stole Zainab’s first boyfriend, Damola.

To be more accurate, Funmi forces her way into Zainab’s social circle to get closer to Damola, and then Damola cheats on Zainab with Funmi.

Now, if you think Zainab is brokenhearted by this, you would be wrong. Because at this point, Zainab is already crushing on her father’s protege, Ahmed and apparently doesn't mind being cheated on.

Needless to say, I don’t care much about Damola's death, though the way he died brought back painful memories of a more recent peaceful protest turned massacre. 

The second thing we learn from the 1980s is that Charles, Enitan's soon-to-be ex-husband, grew up fetishizing Africa, and his feelings for Enitan may have evolved from that fetish. 

Were any of these details relevant to the present? No.

The only result of this pointless detour is a story that endlessly meanders without a plot.

The flow is broken, and I ended up skim-reading, wanting to get back to the present as soon as possible.

Part 3

I was glad when the story returns to the present for the 3rd part of the story.

Here, the writing is still very good, and the description of the traditional wedding is immaculate. 

Nevertheless, I could not wait for the climax.

I kept wanting something to happen, because there was so much that could happen.

Enitan and Charles are headed for a divorce, but they’re chatting like best friends. Would they end up going through with the divorce?

Funmi’s husband Yinka’s attention is constantly on his phone, and Funmi is starting to suspect that he’s cheating. Well, is he?

What about Zainab and her bedridden husband, Ahmed?

What about Enitan and Remi?

Dele and Destiny?

I couldn't wait to see how all these strands would come together.

Well, they don't.

The end arrived so quickly that I had to double-check that my copy was complete.

None of these conflicts came to a head, and it’s so disappointing. 

I should have known, from the lack of any discernible plot, that it wouldn’t end satisfyingly. 

Themes

Dele Weds Destiny is a celebration of female friendship.

As someone who recently graduated from university and is now grappling with the difficulty of managing adult friendships, I resonate with this.

We never know how far our search for greater prospects will carry us, especially in our twenties.

Another prominent theme is the relationship between mothers and daughters. Often fragile, perilous relationships where both parties are inept in how to translate their love into action without losing face. 

For the most part, the book keeps a neutral tone on most issues.

Only one situation is written with a firmly negative tone. It's the part where the white people fetishize and romanticize Africa, treating Africans like some kind of rarity. 

It reminded me of the first time I traveled internationally.

My sisters and I had our hair in long waist-length braids, adorned at the ends with colorful beads, as was the trend at the time.

Even from the plane ride, the white people stared.

Once, when I stood up to go to the restroom on the plane, a woman approached and reached out her hand to touch my hair without asking, giving compliments that made me both grateful and uncomfortable.

Throughout the rest of our trip, some called our accents cute, ignoring our frustrations at having to repeat ourselves three or four times to be understood.

When we wore our Ankara dresses to church, people came up to us and asked to take pictures of us (declined) and with us (accepted). They asked if we were from Africa, as if Africa were a country. 

I was a child then, not even ten, grateful for the attention but not understanding the source of the discomfort I felt underneath that gratitude. 

Final Thoughts

Underwhelming.

Even character-driven stories must strike a certain balance between plot and character, and this one just doesn't.

The fact that it is so well written only serves to highlight the fact that nothing noteworthy ever happens.

Even the premise of friends meeting for the first time in thirty years exaggerates the actual situation.

It would have been more intriguing if they had truly not spoken to each other for thirty years. Instead, throughout the last thirty years, they have had an active group chat, have been keeping in touch regularly, and have spent time with each other, albeit sporadically.

There’s nothing at all remarkable about their situation.

Maybe that’s why it meandered without a point.

3 out of 5 stars.  

Despite being well-written novel, it reads more like a prologue or the pilot episode of a television series, introducing a cast and a world that would feature in a longer, more complex story later on.

Unfortunately, as a standalone, it's just not that great.

Who Is It For?

If you like character-driven stories, it's a decent enough read, but it's easily forgettable.