Udala is set in 1968, one year into the Biafran conflict, and Ijeoma’s world is overcome by “the ruckus of armored cars and shelling machines, bomber planes and their loud engines sending shock waves through our ears.” Things grow worse. Her father, “a man who liked to wallow in his thoughts”, becomes so consumed by sorrow for his dying people that he refuses to seek refuge during an air raid over their town of Ojoto. When Ijeoma and her mother Adaora emerge from a nearby bunker, they discover his blood-soaked body. In shock Adaora sends Ijeoma to be a house girl for a school teacher in another town. “In a warped, war-induced sort of way, it made sense that she should find ways to shed us all: the soldiers, me, and the house. To shed, if she could have, all memories of the war. To shed, and shed, and shed. Like an animal casting off old hair or skin.” There she meets Amina, a Muslim Hausa. What begins as a friendship, turns into passion. “This was the beginning, our bodies being touched by the fire that was each other’s flesh … Tingly and good and like everything perfect in the world.” Caught in an intimate moment the two are forced apart. Ijeoma’s mother assaults her with biblical verses to ward off creeping lesbianism. “I went down the aisle to the front of the church, as I had done the time before. I knelt down before God. I would have prayed, but somehow I could not find the words to do so … Not a single word to express myself, not a single one to explain or to defend myself, not one single word to apologize and beg forgiveness for my sins.”
It is a compelling juxaposition: horrific war and true love in a same sex relationship in a deeply conservative society.