There is a phrase that has entered my private vocabulary in the last couple of years: 'Random Heinemann'. A book is a 'Random Heinemann' to me if I read it based on nothing more than the author's nationality and a liking for the cover. It started because a lot of my African authors were published by Heinemann, though it now refers (in my head) to any book fitting the description. I had vowed to cut down on 'Random Heinemanns', because I have read a lot of not very good stuff because of them. However, I feel my determination slipping, because Oil Man of Obange is one of the best RHs I have read in a long while.
The story is very simple, following Jeri, a seller of kola nut oil, as he struggles to keep his kids in school and to make a living from an arduous daily cycle ride from Obange to Otta, the town where he sells his goods. Deep in poverty, and perched on the edge of destitution, every single penny he gains or loses can spell the difference between survival and death. Although Jeri's story is punctuated by major events (births, deaths, etc.) it is the everyday obstacles that threaten to haul him down. Even a burst tyre could mean the difference between sending his children to school or not. The book shows the extreme difficulty of overcoming crippling poverty with even the best heart and strongest will.
Munonye's prose and narrative are both simple, but no less powerful because of this. The pain of hope against hopelessness is brilliantly portrayed, and I was completely invested in the futures of Jeri's children by the end of the book. Oil Man of Obange is simply a very nice example of uncomplicated storytelling that delighted, touched and moved me far in excess of expectations.