Reviewed by Colleen Lutz Clemens
Wanjiku Wa Ngugi’s debut novel The Fall of Saints deals with the important issue of human trafficking enabled by globalization. The main character, Mugure, has settled in New York City after growing up the child of a wealthy
man’s mistress in Kenya —a status that leave her with neither position or money. After studying in the United States, she marries a mysterious lawyer named Zack. Mugure disconnects from her past and wants to create a
future and family in the States, but infertility issues force her and Zack to adopt a child named Kobi. After finding a discrepancy in his immunization records, Mugure begins to question the validity of her son’s adoption process. This begins Mugure’s puzzling quest for the truth. Unfortunately Ngugi’s novel sacrifices character development to the subject matter. Once Mugure begins to investigate her son’s adoption, the characters become
underdeveloped and confused in their motivation. The most difficult character to believe is Mugure.
In the beginning, Mugure is a kept woman, committed to maintaining her family’s stake in the American Dream. She admits, “Everything I had made me grateful to Zack. Yesterday I was an illegal immigrant. My mother was
dead. My father had denied me. My womb would not carry a life. Zack had given me a home, a country, and a child. In return, I inwardly assured him of my devotion.”
The novel offers no indication that she is looking for any kind of disruption to her affluence. The reader is left to wonder why she would venture out to find the truth about the lineage of her cherished son. There is nothing in the expository drawing of Mugure that would lead the reader to believe that her discovery of a scrap of paper with the word “Alaska” on it would be enough to begin a poorly drawn journey that includes too many car chases, too much luck, and too many coincidences. Even at the prodding of her friend and journalist Wainaina and his offhand remarks that arouse doubt in her mind, Mugure is so committed to her American life that the reader may ask, why would Mugure do this when watching the character risk her life and the life of her son.
Mugure’s search leads to Kenya, where she encounters people from her past who show her the dark side of human trafficking. With Wainaina’s help, they chase the story. Perhaps Mugure’s actions make more sense in this second half of the book because she is more comfortable at home. Upon landing, she notes that she “stopped, closed my eyes, and took in the sweet smell of home. The breeze. The freshness.” However, the focus on driving the forced plot forward with car chases, clandestine meetings, masked men with guns, and breathy phone calls leaves the reader tired by time Mugure starts to connect the dots and realize that her son’s adoption story is false.
Dodging obstacles straight out of a mobster movie, when push comes to shove, Mugure doesn’t really have to do any work. There’s always someone to help her, a credit card to use to buy a plane ticket, a housemaid ready to
drop her life in New York City to care for her charge. All of this convenience gives the reader no reason to root for Mugure. When she turns to Rosie, the Ghanaian woman she has hired to take care of the house (and be her friend
in a turn so bourgeois it adds to the distaste one has for Mugure), Mugure says, “She had few objections to coming to Ohio. It was not a bad move for her financially.” Such a line is telling about Mugure: financial reasons are
primary. In Mugure’s mind, Kobi and his family are all Rosie has. This denial of Rosie’s other needs rings false in a novel that wants to focus on the exploitation of the poor at the hands of the wealthy seeking babies for nefarious ends. The poor serving Mugure well comes to a head by the novel’s climax when she learns the truth about her son’s adoption and realizes that she has been betrayed by those she believed to be closest to her. By the end of the novel, the reader is happy to say goodbye to tiresome
Mugure and her family.