Dear Ella is a good book. It is meant to be. Dear Ella would have been a better book if it wasn’t self-published. If Dear Ella doesn’t do well as a book, I’ll hold self-publishing by the collar and spit my disgust into its face. Think editorial issues and the book’s little or no publicity situation for instance and you will get what I am saying. Let’s note that there are books published traditionally with editorial flaws. And I have read and reviewed a couple of them.  Why did I make the last sentence? I don’t want anyone thinking someone hates the idea of self-publishing. No, I don’t. By the way, some good books, really good ones out there were self-published. Let’s get straight to the heart of the matter: Dear Ella would have been a better book if it wasn’t self-published. I know a few self-published authors. I know of a fewer population, from that group, that is successful. The books of these successful self-published authors, for instance, may encourage one to deep one’s feet into the uncertain deep that self-publishing may be, that it is. The implications of doing that could be more than one can bear. Again, if Dear Ella doesn’t do well as a book, I’ll hold self-publishing by the collar and spit my disgust into its face. Wait, who is this self-publisher? Bomi, Bomi Ehimony. I may have to mail Bomi after this review and I’ll blame him for not writing more drafts. For not being patient enough before publishing Dear Ella. For making his prose sound childish sometimes.  Why am I even saying all that? I saw beyond Dear Ella and you know what?  Bomi is a good writer. 



Let’s talk about Bomi. Bomi is a good writer. Google his name and let’s see what you’ll come up with. Then, we can talk about his writings in the comments section.


Dear Ella. The book tells a tale that revolves around love, class distinction, betrayal of trust and politics all merged together, Nollywood style. The beauty in this thematic plurality is in how they are all sewn together to present the workings of causality, karma. Hence, Dear Ella gets you anticipating the next move; and the story is gifted with enough twists and turns. That is why I hold unto my position that Bomi is a good storyteller. Let’s eschew the features of the book that don’t fit well this once, Bomi gets you on the edge of your seat, your toes curled up like a crab’s legs as you expect the next jolt.

Dear Ella is about three families. Two of the families - the Peter and Orgu families - are on the opposite sides of the social class divide. The third family, a doctor’s, is squashed in between them. The doctor accepts to betray his Hippocratic Oath by switching babies, the rich family’s for the poor’s.  This is on account of a medical condition, Cystic Fibrosis, the Orgu baby has and which his parents consider difficult to come to terms with. Not doing that may signify kissing his kidnapped wife goodbye. The result rubs off on both families. I think the poor family - the Peters - suffers more though. The impact of the disproportionate allocation of judgement makes karma seem restrained. Or why should Mr Peter lose his wife and Dominion in the course of the story? Moreover, from the perspective of the Orgu family, we see how ruinous issues of domestic significance can be when they spill into the public space. 


I dislike it when my best characters die. Dominion had little space to manifest in the story. Death, not Bomi is guilty. I like that Dominion loves books. Ella too. Bomi’s bringing of both of them together is a brilliant idea. Here is a conversation between the two that I like:


“You are reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It’s an unfortunate book.”

“’Unfortunate’” Ella repeated then smiled. “Have you read it?”

“Spoiler alert – Aunt Helen sexually abused Charlie when he was little.” Dominion said.

“I already know what happened. I have read it before.” Ella said.

“Then why are you reading it again?” He laughed.

“Because… well, because I like it.” She said.

“Why? It’s a sad book.”

“It’s really not that sad. It’s just depressing.”

“I don’t know what that means. What’s the difference?” Dominion laughed.

“Sad makes you cry, depressing makes you feel down.” Ella said.

“In that case, there are no sad books because no book is actually capable of making a person cry.” Dominion said.

“Oh there are lots of sad books.”

“Like,”

“Have you read Looking for Alaska?”

Dominion laughed and shook his head no.

“You should. It will make you cry.” (294-296)
 

Aside the fact that bringing Ella and Dominion together helped fan the embers of their individual characters, it helped Bomi hurry the plot. Hence, it’s a fast read. Dear Ella isn’t bulky too. Dear Ella is narrated by a guardian angel, the one assigned to Ella. He is ready to, against all odds, go all out to save Ella; nothing goes all out to save Bomi’s prose from a reviewer’s ‘cruelty’. It’s painful, I mean it. I hope there is a revised copy of Dear Ella soon enough.

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