In ‘The Road Is Good,’ Uzo Aduba Pays Tribute to Her Mother and Her Nigeria
In her debut book, the Emmy-winning actress shares the powerful influence her family’s Igbo culture had on her upbringing in Massachusetts.
When Uzo Aduba was a young girl, she asked her mother to call her Zoe. Before she became the Emmy-winning actress we know today, critically acclaimed for her role as Suzanne "Crazy Eyes" Warren in Orange is the New Black, Aduba grew up in the mostly-white neighborhood of Medfield in Massachusetts, where she felt very out of place with the name given to her at birth.
As she writes in her just-released memoir, The Road Is Good, “I cringed on every first day, hearing teachers, instructors, and new classmates stumble over my Nigerian name — the full version, Uzoamaka, or even the short form, Uzo.” Meaning 'the road is good,' Aduba worried every time she’d have to introduce herself, and figured Zoe was close enough to the nickname of Zozo that her mother, Nonyem, often called her.
Her late mother’s response set the tone for the rest of Aduba’s life: “If they can learn to say Tchaikovsky, Michelangelo and Dostoyevsky, then they can learn to say Uzoamaka,” she had said. It — along with other lessons imparted by Nonyem — instilled within the young Aduba a pride and tenacity that has carried her through her life and career. From studying music to getting a track and field scholarship and starring in the shows like Mrs America and In Treatment, Aduba’s never let go of her Nigerian roots.
She spoke to OkayAfrica about her experience of straddling two worlds and how her mother, who passed away from pancreatic cancer in 2020, always kept their Nigerian culture alive.
The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
OkayAfrica: This book is a beautiful tribute to your late mom, but in many ways it’s also a tribute to Nigeria—did you know when you set out to write it that you’d be sharing so much of your Nigerian heritage?
Uzo Aduba: I did, because I knew the reason why I wanted to center the story with my mom and I is because so much of who I am today as an actor, as an artist, and the way in which I get to live this dream, is because of that rooting in my Nigerian culture. It's because of what my mother poured into me, frankly. And that was what was poured into her by the people who came before her and the cultural practices, beliefs, values that were Nigerian and uniquely African.
So yes, I always knew that was going to be a part of it, and I also knew it was going to be a part of it because of the way that I exist — even in the entertainment space — from my gap in my teeth to my nose, to my name. All of these are things that are celebrated in our culture, in my heritage, are what make up my special differences here in the U.S., but are wholly African, and I celebrate them.
You speak about the gift of journaling that you got from your mother. How much did that play over the years in helping you understand your own self-worth?
It helped in different stages of my life, for sure. In my early stages you have your little teen, pre-teen expressions that you're just getting out and getting out onto the page. And then in my later years and college and first moving to New York, those were more discovering myself within the world and who I am, separate from the place where I was raised — independent, now free of that definition that you get being in a small town.
It also helped me to express the challenges, the successes I was experiencing as an actor and artist at the time. It did a host of different things. Journaling was an amazing release that I was able to have that my mom introduced me to because she was an avid journal-keeper as well. And so it was just something that at first began as me wanting to be like my mom because she had a journal, I wanted a journal. And then it became something that blossomed into a space of expression.
And when did you know you wanted to release a memoir and actually share this with the world?
The fall of 2018 is when I started working on a proposal for this. We've been working on it for that long—my team and I, and my mom and I, at first. Before she was diagnosed is when I started writing this proposal. And so the book that I thought I was going to write and the book that I sold was not the book that I wrote in the end.
So how different did it end up being then?
It took shape a different way. Initially, it started with just talking about stories and recalling moments in life and it was really easy and funny and lighthearted, and I thought it was going to just be about quick little quibs. To then her being diagnosed, and it really became an exercise in saying goodbye, and the shape of it for her shifted somewhere. It seemed like she understood that this was going to be the last account, formal account, of her life.
So the details were before, when time felt wide open. Suddenly it became something she wanted to really drill down on the specifics — so, names and people who really played significant roles in various parts of her life. And then she also really wanted me to get the lessons that she had been teaching my siblings and me our whole life. She really wanted to make sure we understood that. That's what the shape of the story became. And an exercise of learning how to say goodbye.
You talk about actively reaching back to Nigerian culture through daily conversations you used to have with her. How do you keep that alive now?
By holding onto my culture. My daughter, one, is a huge way that I hold onto it. She's the in-your-face reminder of what could be lost. And I don't want to lose that culture because that's a piece also of my mom. But it's staying alive in [my daughter]. It keeps my mother alive as well in some ways, and my parents both alive in some ways. She started eating her jollof rice now — she's only 10 months old, but I serve it to her because I want her to know it. Her red stew, her egusi, I make it. Moin moin, we have them in the fridge right now. She's going to have that for dinner. Just to really make sure that she develops the taste for our food, which in turn means she's developing a taste for our culture and heritage, and she’s steeped in it. So that also keeps me connected, as well, and ensuring that it's not lost.
You write about feeling your whole self that first time you went to Nigeria when you were younger. What is your relationship like with the country now?
Oh, I love it. It's my favorite place in the world, period. I love it. I love going home. I love going to see my family. I love going to see my friends. I love the air, even; it smells different. I love the feeling of it; the colors, the energy, the vibe, the growth. I pray for her growth and development as well—a larger widening of growth. But I love Nigeria. I'm proud. I'm a proud Nigerian and I love going there to be reminded that there is a depth from which I come, a foundation on which I was built.
You also give a succinct but comprehensive overview of the The Biafra War — how much research did you have to do beyond talking to your mother and family members?
I already had developed a fascination and an interest in it tangentially, and would look things up and watch videos and docs about it because I knew the part that my mother had played in the war [helping facilitate aid to people and sharing necessary information with reporters]. So I was so curious to have a better understanding of the atmosphere and the setting at the time, to know what it was like when she was doing some of these remarkable things with journalists who were there reporting the story.
I already had that but also approached it knowing that there were going to be people reading the story who may have no understanding of the war, or needed some contextualizing, or had just never heard of it altogether.
Movie-wise, would you consider doing a film with one of the up-and-coming Nigerian directors?
I'm always open. Doing Orange taught me, a good story is a good story, and it can be found anywhere. And as long as the story is good and the vision for it is up to par, I'm interested in doing that. And so I think that's where I stand now, Not even I think. That's where I stand now, where a good story is a good story. It doesn't matter where its beginning point is, but as long as the investment in that story is strong in terms of the dedication, I'm open to anything.
- Africa's Bookstagrammers are Carving Out a Space for the Continent's Authors ›
- 5 South African Multimedia Books You Should Read ›
- 12 Books by African Writers You Need To Read This Summer ›
- I’m Done With African Immigrant Literature ›
- Here are 10 Recent Books from Black South African Women Writers That You Need to Read ›