In this passage, Adichie describes Kambili taking a “love sip” from her father’s scalding tea. She uses strong tactile imagery and a metaphor of burning to show the painful effects of Eugene’s parenting on Kambili:
The tea was always too hot, always burned my tongue, and if lunch was something peppery, my raw tongue suffered. But it didn’t matter, because I knew that when the tea burned my tongue, it burned Papa’s love into me.
The tactile imagery here conveys the physical discomfort and pain Kambili endures when she’s trying to show her father that she loves him. She doesn’t enjoy these “sips,” but she never refuses them because they make her father happy. The repeated references to the heat of the tea and the spiciness of the food she eats for lunch give the reader an uncomfortably realistic sense of her suffering. Words like "burned" and "raw" bring the scene to life, forcing the reader to feel the physical consequences of obeying Eugene’s strict and authoritarian rules of showing affection. Pain and love are intertwined in Kambili’s mind where her father is concerned.
The metaphor of Eugene’s love "burning" into Kambili also shows how damaging his affection is to his children. His “love” leaves a mark, both literally through the physical burns on Kambili’s tongue and metaphorically through the psychological damage he inflicts. These “love sips” of burning tea mirror Eugene’s broader treatment of his family. His expressions of love often come in the form of control: he uses physical pain as a way of “teaching” his children how to behave. The way the metaphor works here suggests that Kambili sees pain as a natural or necessary part of being loved. The tea is an ever-present reminder of Eugene’s oppressive love. It’s searing and unavoidable, but his children also have to come and take the “sips” themselves, to prove their "love."
Kambili’s fear of failure and her yearning for her father’s approval are always on her mind. When she comes second in her class at school, she knows that Eugene is extremely disappointed:
I needed him to hug me close and say that to whom much is given, much is also expected. I needed him to smile at me, in that way that lit up his face, that warmed something inside me. But I had come second. I was stained by failure.
The metaphor of being “stained by failure” as Adichie uses it here shows how deeply Kambili internalizes Eugene’s obsession with purity and perfection. In Eugene’s worldview, where absolute obedience and academic achievement are the most important qualities in children, any imperfection is seen as a moral and personal failing. Kambili adopts this perspective because she has no choice. She sees coming in second place as a blemish that makes her unworthy of her father’s love and warmth. The idea that her failure to come first is a “stain” that other people can see also points to the permanence of this perceived failure in Kambili’s mind. It suggests that, in Eugene’s eyes and her own, she is forever tarnished.
Kambili craves the comfort and validation that her father’s rare moments of tenderness provide, which makes his anger and rejection feel even more devastating. The “warmth” she associates with his smile is one of the novel’s many associations between Eugene’s emotions and heat. When he’s pleasant and loving he’s “warm,” but when he’s angry and vengeful he’s “burning” and “boiling” with rage.
Eugene feels deeply guilty and responsible about Ade Coker’s torture and death at the hands of the Nigerian military. Because he was the one who published the offending material in The Standard, he walks around like a ghost following Coker’s death:
Weeks after Ade Coker died, the hollows were still carved under Papa’s eyes, and there was a slowness in his movements, as though his legs were too heavy to lift, his hands too heavy to swing.
The metaphor of hollows “carved” under Eugene’s eyes refers to the lasting and visible toll his emotional suffering is taking on his physical body. The choice of the word “carved” suggests permanence and deliberateness, as though he’s scraping the evidence of his guilt and shame into his face himself. The consequences of his actions have physically etched themselves onto his body. This imagery emphasizes the depth of his self-hatred but also points to his impotent fury with the new Nigerian political regime. The hollows under his eyes contain more than just pooled blood from physical exhaustion: they’re full of the psychological weight of his remorse and impotence.
Eugene’s body is rendered almost immobile by the emotional weight of his actions. Adichie extends the metaphor of the heavy bags under his eyes to the rest of his body, which has become too pendulous and painful to move. His movements are labored, as though burdened by an invisible weight. This “slowness” suggests that Eugene’s guilt affects even the most basic aspects of his existence; walking, seeing, eating, sleeping. The slowness of his movement also mirrors the emotional stagnation he experiences, struggling vainly to process Ade Coker’s death and his role in it. This passage reveals a rare moment of vulnerability in Eugene, whose rigid control over his household briefly ebbs away and is replaced by this grieving helplessness.
The brutality of Eugene’s punishment for Kambili seeing Papa-Nnukwu is wildly disproportionate to the seriousness of her “crime.” Adichie uses tactile imagery and metaphor to illustrate the warped moral justification of Eugene pouring boiling water on his child’s feet:
I saw the moist steam before I saw the water. I watched the water leave the kettle, flowing almost in slow motion in an arc to my feet. The pain of contact was so pure, so scalding, I felt nothing for a second. And then I screamed.
'‘That is what you do to yourself when you walk into sin. You burn your feet,’ he said.
The tactile imagery of this horrible scene vividly conveys the physical agony of the punishment. The description of the water’s slow arc and the “moist steam” preceding it also builds a sense of dread, forcing the reader to anticipate the inevitable pain that Kambili must stand still and endure. She describes the moment of contact as “so pure, so scalding” that she’s almost unable to feel it; the pain is too much for her brain to take in. The visceral depiction of burning, boiling feet not only brings the moment to life for the reader but also reinforces the inhumanity of Eugene’s actions.
The metaphor of “walking in sin” adds a layer of psychological violence to Eugene's physical punishment. Eugene believes Kambili’s visit to Papa-Nnukwu—her grandfather, whom Eugene doesn’t approve of—is such a violation that it merits him permanently scarring his daughter in this torturous way. He wants her to feel the boiling water burning her and see it as a physical representation of sin’s consequences. He uses this act of cruelty both to assert his religious authority and reinforce his oppressive control. This metaphor of demonstrating the “effects” of “walking into sin” shifts blame to Kambili, suggesting that she has brought this pain upon herself.
Aunty Ifeoma’s use of idiom and metaphor in this passage convey the urgency of her warning to Beatrice and Kambili about the danger they face in Eugene’s house. After hearing that Beatrice has been beaten so badly she has miscarried her baby, Ifeoma says:
‘This cannot go on, nwunye m,’ Aunty Ifeoma said. ‘When a house is on fire, you run out before the roof collapses on your head.’
The idiom of a “house on fire” as it’s used here refers to the escalating abuse within Eugene’s household. Aunty Ifeoma likens Kambili and Beatrice’s home to a structure consumed by flames, as if at any moment it’s liable to crash down around them. It’s a strong warning that conveys both the potential for further destruction and just how imminent the danger is. The metaphor extends further with the warning that Eugene’s family must escape him “before the roof collapses.” Through this, Ifeoma is implying that the situation—if left unchecked—can only have catastrophic consequences.
The metaphor of the burning house also reflects the broader convention of suffocation and destruction in the family. Eugene’s oppressive rule over his household is the “fire” that consumes their sense of safety and stability. The metaphorical roof represents the limits of endurance. Ifeoma is suggesting that Beatrice and Kambili are on the verge of collapse under the weight of Eugene’s abuse. Her words are both a warning and a call to action, urging them to prioritize their survival over the societal expectations and love for Eugene that have kept them trapped.