“Tomorrow I Become a Woman”
A raw reflection on inherited pain, harmful norms, and the courage to break cycles
In April, one of the books I read was "Tomorrow I Become a Woman" by Aiwanose Odafen, and let me say, I was vexed on multiple levels. This book isn’t just a story; it’s a mirror, a megaphone, and for many women, a painful echo of lived experiences.
But every time Obianuju’s mother opened her mouth to speak, I felt an unholy urge rise within me. I wanted to reach into the pages, grab her by the shoulders, and yell, “Will you just shut up?” Or better still, give her a holy slap to reset whatever outdated, destructive programming was running in her brain.
After reading this book, I told myself I needed to do a cleanse, read a very happy book or something light-hearted, anything that could help me forget what I had just consumed.
Honestly, though? This book was difficult to forget.
Obianuju’s mother wasn’t just a character; she was a symbol. A walking, talking embodiment of internalised patriarchy. She had swallowed generations of oppression and called it “tradition.” Her words dripped with fear, shame, and control masked as wisdom. And I couldn’t help but ask myself, How many women have become gatekeepers of their bondage?
One scene that particularly shook me was when Obianuju’s husband beat her, and her mother, without flinching, told her it was her fault. “You talk too much,” she said, as if that somehow justified the violence. That moment wasn’t just fiction. That’s real advice given to real women in real homes. And it made me sick.
This book compelled me to confront uncomfortable truths, things many of us were taught to accept as “normal.” The belief that a woman’s suffering in marriage is a badge of honour. The silence. The shame. The gaslighting passed down from mother to daughter.
I mean, these were things that people truly believed back then. And the fact that it was common or accepted as the norm doesn’t make it right.
I couldn’t help but think about the things we still normalise today. The things we excuse because “that’s just how it’s always been.” But is that a good enough reason to let them continue? To let people suffer in silence because culture told them to?
There is an expectation that people require cycles to continue, regardless of how badly those cycles have affected them. We pass on pain like tradition. We teach endurance instead of healing. We wrap trauma in silence and call it strength.
But this book isn’t just a lament, it’s a warning, a call to unlearn, to question, to speak, and to stop the cycle.
So no, I didn’t enjoy this book in a cosy, tea-sipping kind of way. But I’m glad I read it. Because sometimes, stories don’t soothe you. Sometimes they slap you awake.
Reading Tomorrow I Become a Woman wasn’t just an emotional experience; it was a soul check. It made me angry, yes, but it also made me examine the lies I may have unconsciously inherited. The silent expectations. The quiet endurance. The generational scripts that we need to stop reciting.
And I’m not only referring to issues that relate to women. These cycles manifest in various forms, such as family dynamics, relationships, religion, culture, and even the way we process grief or success. Sometimes we continue to play the same harmful roles because we were never shown an alternative.
And maybe that’s the most challenging part, recognising that the work of healing often starts with unlearning. By speaking up, by choosing not to pass pain down like an heirloom.
So, whether you've read this book or not, I want to ask:
What are the things you've accepted as “normal” that aren’t?
What patterns need to be broken in your story?
Because healing doesn’t begin with silence, it starts with truth. With courage. With the decision to break the cycle, for yourself and those coming after you.