It is absolutely needful to begin this review from the external, thus, to delve into significance of the use of numbers would be considered apt as it supports the depth, as regards the meaning enunciated in this creative fiction. First, the book is in three parts, which in turn lends credence to the order or cycle of “the Dead, the Living and the Unborn”. Furthermore, the eighteen chapters are suggestive of arriving at the number of six, which is made possible by diving eighteen by three. For those who understand the super-dimensions of figures, Six is the Number of Man.
Going forward, in 18 chapters and over 210 pages, a writer takes us through the exceptional evolution of a major character, whose female identity add unique hue, as she courses through stages of growth in her family and secular life; birthing before the readers’ eyes, peculiar innocence of a teenager, expected complexities of new knowledge, curiosity and reprimands, pre and post colonial nuances, yearnings toward a cause, brazen confrontation of history, offences, forgiveness and the blunt mooting of the ugliness and beauties of our sexuality.

This fiction, by all assessment, is the reality that dawns upon us unknowingly, where many grown – ups hold different viewpoints regarding our Nigerian heritage cum international identity, including the wounds of the past which have refused to heal, the scarring of the present resulting in new bruises and the tendencies of future logger heads that seem assured in our corporate refusal to say it as it is, redeem all the un-salvaged part of our lives, so as to be free from the shackles of our hypocritical orientation and dispositions.

Incorporating the literary inclinations of Professor Adimora Ezeigbo as well as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Stephanie Odili dares where creative colossus have trod, perhaps being the youngest as of now, to have embarked upon a touching and troubled theme as the digging for truths about Nigeria Civil War, The Biafra Dream and its many unattained realities, the very obvious disaffections occasioned by irreparable losses, not forgetting that only the living can confront the fears of the now and tomorrow, even if the worries of the past may be hid in both.

Bringing the story to life, Adaugo is not allowed to talk about the Nigerian experience while living in London, but is made to return back home to Nigeria and leverage the education as well as every advantageous support structure of being properly up-bred. It is however important to posit, that London was where the seed of curiosity blossomed, it was while living in London that sparks of a dream got lit and the thread of historical yearning gets fed to seeming insatiable proportions. Diana meets Adaugo and the Nigerian story begins from across the Atlantic before returning home.
Seeds are planted in the heart of every child and these seeds germinate, making the lead character encounter the ups and downs of being nurtured to growth by her parents. A mother who loves and disciplines, as well as a father whose love for his daughter does not for once shut out frankness and reprimands where necessary. So, from the first to the ninth chapter, the central.

Character grows into knowledgeable teenager, gradually assimilating the dos and don’ts of her parents, developing her sense of probity, perception, comprehension and psychological maturity which forms her manner of responding to issues.

Written in the first person narrative style and employing flashbacks often to capture the past for the present, the author ensures that the crux of the work just does not get told on the city tops of Nigeria, but in the interiors of Abakpa in Enugu, South East Nigeria, by a living witness whose sacrifices and grace of a long life afford Adaugo the opportunity of fulfillment, and even the greater task of Saving her World.

If one reads the War documentary of Adewale Ademoyega Why We Struck as well as Alabi Isama’s The Tragedy of Victory, there seems to be an agreeable coercion to believe, that the promptings of the war, not forgetting scale of suffering depicted at the height of the author’s descriptions, are indeed evident on near-similar scale in these factions. When rape is depicted, it is without softening emotions, after all rape and death during wars are not savoury as sweeteners or salt when in contact with the taste buds. Killings as well cannot be savoured because life in its sacredness must get protection and availed opportunity to fulfill purpose.

This narrative fiction fuses the delicate plus the solid, further expressing reliance on the supersensible at crossroads, and of course recognizing the role of humans in the fulfillment of the human fate. Without any doubt, the privilege of the riveting true tale of a harrowing past may not have been possible without a links-person, ensuring that the chord which connects yesterday to today stays intact. Grandma Kpakpando is the repertoire of the past, unveiling the veils, making possible the believable present as symbolized by Adaugo.
Needful are the life lessons from this beautiful work of fiction. We seem often afraid of both our past and the emerging present. In the instance of a child being curious or dares to dream, we are repulsed by such curiosity or frankly speaking, afraid of the inquests. Although the manner of inquisition by the young ones may not be the best, guiding aright becomes important so that they are abreast with proper approach to making enquiry.

How we treat our old ones equally matter as nuanced in this work. Some parents feel very comfortable with the Western present and all its hold on them and their children or wards, but the permanent values that are properly put together and our identity as a people are made to occupy second position.

Further, the many unresolved problems of the Nigerian nation and how she is currently perceived pervade the pages. Is there any reason why history is not taught in our schools? Particularly Nigerian history. We easily have access to history of wars fought in other countries and that have shaped their ever evolving civilizations, but the deliberate act of avoiding a unified and truthful history of Nigeria’s civil war is definitely the failure of every adult in this country.

Here again, the loud noise of Deafening Silence is heard, reverberating across high lands and vales, reminding each of us about our collusion in acts of commission and omission, asking us questions that must be answered, giving us reason to think, if truly we are ready to create a future from a past and present that is devoid of falsehood. This is a first book by a young woman, whose unanswered questions have brought us together, causing further rooms for questions that need answers and the right responses from every one of us can only reduce further questions, because we are a people long due to have solutions.

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