Matilda represents the dilemma of a new woman stuck in old realities. In this story, some facts never change and losses abound. Worse, they are the aftermath of the service of those things she holds the most dear.
Matilda’s eclectic world instantly sucks one with the candour both of racy descriptions and relatable events that set the reader’s heart burning with so much passion they wished they were one of the characters just so they could affect unavoidable conclusions.
Here, the sweetness of romance, synergy of family, the purpose of work and the security of a lifestyle of luxury fail to satisfy the most basic of desires. Being an Abuja housewife who can go anywhere and have anything pales in comparison to having a simple life that cannot be revisited. All that exists is nostalgia about humble beginnings so filled with peace it hurts to even think of them.
Frustration gives expression to the vital question on why women who are ‘supposed to be the weaker sex’ are unfairly entrusted with the responsibilities of a happy married life. Or at least that’s how Matilda feels. Would it have been better had she also felt more than an outlet for her husband, who is ever full of surprises?
When at last, time and life shove them irreversibly toward the moment that would determine if they have a future together, there are more surprises in the waiting.