Quotes: Breaking Gods Flashcards
Things started to fall apart at home when my brother, Jaja, did not
go to communion
Jaja, the protagonist’s brother, refused to believe in something that doesn’t make sense to him, sort of already declaring him as not a religious person, a rebel.
His line moved the slowest because he pressed hard on each forehead to make a perfect cross with his ash-covered thumb and slowly, meaningfully enunciated every word of “dust and unto dust you shall return.”
An emphasis on Papa being a perfectionist.
He would hold his eyes shut so hard that his face tightened into a grimace, and then he would stick his tongue out as far as it could go.
Papa loved the religion with such intensity that the tight eyes and extended tongue were a sign that he just wanted to give in to his God.
when he [Father Benedict] said “native” his straight-line lips turned down at the corners to form an inverted U.
Father Benedict looked down on Nigeria and its native cultures and traditions.
And I would sit with my knees pressed together, next to Jaja, trying hard to keep my face blank, to keep the pride from showing, because Papa said modesty was very important.
Papa was a saviour to his people, yes, but he did not want to boast his helpful nature as it was a duty, he believed.
“Jaja, you did not go to communion,” Papa said quietly, almost a question.
Papa’s bubbling anger was right on the surface, waiting for the tipping point.
“The wafer gives me bad breath.”
Jaja referred to the bread in the communion as “wafer,” admitting that it wasn’t really a part of Jesus and it gave him bad breath: a clear act of rebellion.
“Then I will die.” Fear had darkened Jaja’s eyes to the color of coal tar
Jaja would rather die than blindly follow a religion that he doesn’t believe in.
She stared at the figurine pieces on the floor and then knelt and started to pick them up with her bare hands.
Mama, being submissive and used to Papa’s anger outbursts, picked up the pieces as though it was completely normal.
Even the glass
dining table was moving toward me.
Kambili’s anxiety and fear when something upset her Papa.
I knew that when the tea burned my tongue, it burned Papa’s love into me.
For Kambili, her father was God and she would do anything for his approval.
They seemed to bloom so fast, those red hibiscuses
It didn’t take long for rigidity and fear to become part of someone’s life and the fast-growing red hibiscus symbolises it.
“I’m sorry your figurines broke, Mama.”
Kambili felt sorry that Mama’s figurines broke but she did not want to blame Papa.
There were never tears on her face. The last time, only two weeks ago, when her swollen eye was still the black-purple color of an overripe avocado, she had rearranged them after she polished
them.
Papa was abusive. But after each beating, Mama felt more numb; eventually, she was so numb, she couldn’t cry.
The ballet figurines symbolise freedom.
My tongue felt like paper.
Kambili was still recovering for the shock of her brother almost being hit by her father.
