Kris Van der Bijl

Sister Deborah by Scholastique Mukasonga is a short novel that tells the tale of Sister Deborah. According to colonial records, Sister Deborah was an American woman who arrived in rural Rwanda in the 1930s. Her disappearance – and possible death – coincides with an anti-colonial uprising that the territorial administrator does not admit was led by women. 

On the surface, Sister Deborah’s life was forgettable, as few records appear to have been left. However, the women around her, as well as the young Ikirezi, recall her Godly place. As a text, Sister Deborah explores how history tends to forget great women – particularly Black women – despite the powers that their lives might possess.

Sister Deborah travels to Rwanda from the United States as a missionary. She does so under the leadership of Reverend Marcus. He took notice of the young Deborah after she found herself ‘seized by the spirit’ in his presence. He soon told her she could speak in tongues and heal the sick. Additionally, he mentions her biblical namesake. 

Reverend Marcus explains that his Deborah:

“was a prophetess who presided beneath a tree. And like you, she was visited by the spirit and she announced the victory of the Hebrews over their enemies. It’s the spirit of Deborah that is in you and that has sent you to find the path of our liberation. Will you follow me?”

Biblical endowment, whether true or not, follows Deborah to Africa. She becomes the saviour the then Belgium colony needed. But while an entire village finds itself awash by whatever change, hope, or revolution a black woman in power represents, it’s worth focusing on Deborah’s influence on the narrator, Ikirezi. 

Deborah’s influence on Ikirezi’s life grants her centre stage in the novella. The first part of the text introduced the “Nyabikenke Incident”: 53 pages here, but the narrator notes how it would only make up one typewritten report by the colonial administrator. 

This incident involves early anti-colonial uprisings. The colonial office’s suppression goes beyond ending the strike. It includes diminishing its place in history by keeping little too no record that something ever happened. 

The exact details of the uprising are best left to be read. It’s important to note that it involves the disappearance of a Chief, indirect rule through proxy leaders who are sympathetic to the colonial government, and the colonial administrators report.

It’s made explicit, though, that the administrator “neglected to report that the uprising was largely being led by women for fear of being laughed at, and instead made only brief mention of a horde of hysterical and bare-chested termagants.”

These women – and Sister Deborah’s role as their leader – become lost to history and are replaced by faceless, brutish stereotypes that Africans were often described as during the colonial period. This is an injustice that Ikirezi’s voice counters by simply laying bare everything that the male colonial office wished not to see.

Ikirezi met Deborah through the women in her village. Ikirezi’s childhood has so far been one of sickness caused by “people or spirits”. They decide to see Sister Deborah as an obvious final solution to these problems. Her mother does not need to remind her not to mention their planned trip to their father.

Amongst women, Sister Deborah is spoken of as a myth. The exact nature of her powers is frequently debated. Of interest is how “most considered her a healer possessed by a benevolent spirit, from an unknown world where the blacks were as powerful as the whites.” Here, the spiritual healer’s power is connected to the dynamics of race.

Additionally, Deborah’s role as a healer is intentionally large and almost vague. She is both the alternative to colonial hospitals and traditional healers. But she is also blessed by some kind of holy spirit, both Christian and distinctly African. Her role as a healer is entirely holistic.

Deborah’s powers are often entwined with the racism and sexism of the period. This is a vital part of the text. If Deborah is anything, then she is a strong black woman the people look to for guidance and healing. Again, it is holistic and likely has more to do with the rumours and social significance surrounding her mythical life.

It is this better health – the propensity for a better life – which Ikirezi resonates with. This drew her to construct the narrative of her life and to bring the truth and memory of her life out from the intentionally biased colonial archives.

The novel’s epigraph – as is often the case with a well-chosen quote – expresses the power of bringing to light the truths of Black women’s removal from the archive. The epigraph reads “I met God, she’s Black.” 

Not only does this bring the text a degree of resonance in a post-Black Lives Matter world, but it again endows the lives of Black women with God-like features others might wish to keep from them. 

There is a lot more to the book that I am leaving out. I haven’t captured how hilarious Mukasonga can be through an almost Marquez-like use of the clash between myth and colony. 

Sister Deborah is a short but impactful text. Mark Polizzotti’s English translation from the original French allows many more English speakers with the opportunity to enjoy it. Mukasonga’s text has the pride of being both exceptionally readable to the lay reader and providing substance for anyone wishing to explore its myriad themes. In short, it’s highly recommendable. 

---

Book details:

Interested in more book reviews? Consider reading:

• On Irony in Buchi Emecheta’s The Joys of Motherhood
• The Dullness of Writing Back: On A. Igoni Barrett’s Blackass
• A Fiction Review of The Best South African Novel