In the acclaimed novel “Purple Hibiscus” composed by Nigerian feminist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the narrative is dominated by themes of systematic silence and abuse. The Achike family unit, consisting of father Eugene, mother Beatrice, daughter Kambili and little girl Jaja, is constantly filled with calm pressure. The family is a wealthy and advantaged Nigerian family, headed by Eugene, a fruitful specialist and a faithful Catholic convert. Eugene is a caring and liberal father and spouse, yet he has a repulsive and rude streak; regularly falls into fits of rage over the lack of religious tact, lashing out with uncontrollable rage and harsh punishments. Beatrice, Kambili and Jaja have all endured his wrath. His behavior and attitude force the family into an almost militant obedience towards him, Eugene's fierce macho power has stolen the voices of the other relatives, causing a deep established silence instilled in every relative. His upheavals are fierce and frequent, but the family does not transparently examine any of these tensions. They ignore it, imagining it won't happen, and quickly continue their exercises. The silence is peculiar and dense, and Kambili feels 'suffocated'. In “Purple Hibiscus,” Eugene serves as a powerful manipulator, who takes on the role of colonizer within his own family. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay The monstrous evil depicted in Eugene is reflected in an incredibly accommodating state of mind. Ogaga Okuyade clarifies this in his article “Changing Borders and Creation Voices: Silence as Character in Chimamanda Adichie's Purple Hibiscus”; home as a residential combat area. From his story, it seems that hitting your life partner is a normal wonder.' After an episode in which Beatrice is beaten mercilessly by Eugene, the children simply watch as he throws her limp body behind him, causing blood to drip across the hall and down the stairs, to which Jaja comments: "C 'There's blood on the floor.' I'm going to get the brush from the bathroom.' The children then sit down and wipe their mother's blood off the hall floor, and Kambili imagines to herself that it is practically painted by "an overturned jug of red watercolor"). They have become desensitized to malice and hostility and remain silent, compliant, anesthetized. Another example of this reckless behavior comes in the form of Eugene destroying possessions that were very close to Beatrice's heart. '...Dad threw his substantial missal across the room and broke the figurines.' Adichie suddenly throws a situation at the reader, allowing them to choose what kind of character Dad is and how he responds to his condition. This can also give the reader a chance to understand what a dynamic character may initially seem like and what he or she may transform into over the course of the story. Jaja and Kambili's tortured family life is not easy to deal with. They communicate about it through a home language called “the dialect of the eyes” (Adichie 305) or through unobtrusive comments that do not require elaboration. While talking about her mother's pregnancy, Jaja tells Kambili, "We will protect him," and Kambili internally reflects, "I realized that Jaja had implied to Daddy, but I didn't say anything about the baby's safety." Jaja does not need to expressly name the risk from which he should protect the unborn child; the meaning of his words is implicit. As a result of this family abuse and control, Kambili has become so mentally dull that she struggles to try to talk about things anymoreinsignificant. These mysteries weigh most forcefully on Kambili herself, whose continued inability to speak shows how profoundly her mental capacity has been stunted. When she visits her aunt in Nsukka, Kambili often ends up stammering muffled answers to anyone who dares to ask her a question. The moment Father Amadi mentions that he hasn't seen her smile all day, she turns away and doesn't respond. She considers, “I looked at my corn.” I wanted to say I was sad for not smiling or giggling, but my words wouldn't come.' Close relative Ifeoma simply chimes in, brushing it off and saying, “She is modest.” Of course Kambili is more than shy; she's petrified, wanting to be able to converse but remains worried that her words will get stuck in her throat, an unfortunate insecurity deeply instilled in her by her father. His silence is an image of his fragility and his battle to discover both his inner and outer voice. Despite this mental oppression, children still love their father and their home, complete with its strict rules and standards. When they distance themselves from it in the story, they are eager to return to its broken familiarity. An instance of this is when Kambili returns from Nsukka and enters the compound of her house in Enugu. 'The walls ensured the smell of ripening cashews, mangoes and avocados. It disgusted me.' Kambili knew that her home was what she missed and what hurt her. Be that as it may, when she returns to Nsukka, her house suddenly makes her feel stuffy and uninviting. The poisonous environment of his house is so uncomfortable that it becomes comfortable for Kambili and she misses him when he is away. The dysfunction and abuse brainwash Kambili and make her feel like she needs them to survive. Luckily, the more time Kambili spends away from her home and dad, the more she sees the danger it poses and begins to appreciate life outside of them. composed and out of dad's control. Nsukka was initially a remote place, but then turns into a home for Kambili. After Kambili and the reader both establish that Nsukka is a position of comfort, Aunt Ifeoma leaves Nsukka and Nsukka turns into a memory. '... the tall grasses sprout like green lightning. The pruning lion statue never shines again.' With the loss of Aunt Ifeoma, Nsukka is no longer what it once was. It represents yet another destroyed home and a misplaced family unit from which Kambili must now heal. It is no longer a time at home, nor a place of comfort. It has turned into a memory, all fervor and relaxation have been lost. Apart from Nsukka, Kambili needs to encounter a difference in the area when her family visits Abba, the place where they grew up, every year. “Our house still drove me crazy, its four-story white glory.” Kambili depicts this house as if it were the house she would like to live in for eternity. He completely neglected what his real home looked like. The home she holds so dear has recently been revealed to be somewhere else. What this shows is that the places we once knew as home change over time, and even if something is mundane, it has the ability to feel remote in a short time. The same can be said for individuals and characters. An individual can appear a certain way, but then be completely different after a period of change. This method of changing, adapting, and becoming new affects relatively every character in the story. Kambili, who has now become immune to the harsh learning techniques, clearly begins to become a "typical" individual in the story. For example, Kambili recognizes how much the laughter and smile of her close relative and cousin. Kambili is never used to all this. He begins to change for the first time.