Uncle (Abti) in Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: A Character Analysis
Overview
Uncle (Abti) appears in two central poems of Warsan Shire’s Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head: “My Loneliness Is Killing Me” and “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle.” He is never given a personal name; “Abti” is the Somali word for uncle, marking him as a familial archetype rather than an individuated character. Through him, Shire explores the lived reality of the refugee in exile: a man physically present in London yet emotionally anchored to a lost Somalia. The poems do not describe his appearance or his past in detail, but they present a figure whose loneliness is tangible, evoked through smoke, music, and the ritual of coffee.
Plot Role
Uncle (Abti) does not drive a plot in the traditional sense. His role is symbolic and atmospheric. In “My Loneliness Is Killing Me,” he sits alone in a London room, smoking. The smoke triggers joyful memories of Somalia—swimming at Jazeera Beach, riding a motorbike through the Suuqa Bakaaraha market, and being held onto by women with hair trailing like black smoke. The present intrudes as rain and a cassette player playing Hassan Aden Samatar’s song. A voice urges him in Somali to be stronger than his loneliness. He rolls tobacco, drinks bitter coffee, and sings along—alone. In “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle,” the speaker addresses him directly, asking whether everything he loves is foreign or he is foreign to everything he loves. The poem places him in a supermarket aisle beside turmeric and saffron, prostrating in front of halal meat, praying in a language he has not used in years. These two moments define his role: a man caught between memory and present, between belonging and alienation.
Motivations and Traits Shown Through Actions
Uncle (Abti) is defined by his loneliness and his strategies for coping. His smoking is not casual; he smokes until he sees something moving in the smoke—a visual bridge to memory. This suggests a man who actively summons the past to survive the present. He listens to Somali music, rolls tobacco the color of his hands, and drinks qaxwo (bitter coffee). These are not mere habits but rituals that connect him to a cultural home.
The voice that commands “be stronger than your loneliness” reveals an internal conflict: he must resist despair. The imperative “atkow” (conquer) implies struggle. He sings along to the cassette, but the poem notes he is alone “this time, alone every time.” His action of singing is both an act of defiance and a recognition of solitude.
In the foreign food aisle, he prays. The prayer is a gesture of faith and memory. He has been with women who cannot pronounce his name, suggesting romantic relationships that failed to bridge his cultural distance. Now he stands alone, remembering his mother’s warm hands. His motivation appears to be a longing for connection—to a past self, to a lost homeland, to a language of intimacy.
Chronological Arc
The poems do not provide a linear timeline, but a composite arc emerges. “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle” implies a history: after years of relationships with women who could not say his name, he finds himself totally alone. The poem suggests a progression from attempted assimilation to resignation. “My Loneliness Is Killing Me” presents a single evening, but the repetition of “alone every time” indicates this is a frequent state. There is no transformation; Abti remains suspended between worlds. His arc is one of endurance without resolution.
Relationships
The most explicit relationship is with the speaker of the poems. In “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle,” the speaker addresses him as “Dear Uncle” and poses a question that cuts to the heart of his identity. This implies a niece or younger relative who observes his isolation with compassion and perhaps worry. The speaker does not intervene but bears witness.
In “My Loneliness Is Killing Me,” the only other presence is the voice on the cassette—Hassan Aden Samatar’s song—and the disembodied voice that urges him in Somali. These are not living relationships but cultural echoes. The women from his past appear only in memory: the ones who held onto him on the motorbike, the women whose hair trailed like smoke. They are gone. The poem emphasizes his solitude: no one knows him tonight.
Photographs of hooyo (mother) in “Photographs of Hooyo (Harlesden, 1990–2000)” depict a similar exiled experience—the mother also carries sorrow, names of the dead, and war flaying Somalia alive. Abti and hooyo share the condition of displacement, though their poems do not intersect directly.
Key Decisions and Consequences
Abti’s decisions are implicit rather than dramatized. The choice to stay in London after his relationships fail is assumed. The decision to continue smoking, playing music, and remembering is a conscious act of maintaining connection to his past. The consequence is a life of isolated endurance. The voice telling him to be strong suggests that giving in to loneliness would be dangerous. The poems present no alternative; the exile’s options are limited.
Theme and Symbol Connections
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Exile and Displacement: Abti is a primary vehicle for the collection’s exploration of diaspora. His loneliness is not personal failure but a condition of living away from home. The smoke functions as a symbol of memory—insubstantial yet visible, connecting past and present.
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Trauma and Survival: The command to be stronger than his loneliness echoes the survival imperative of refugees. The collection’s trauma and survival theme finds expression in Abti’s daily rituals.
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Diaspora and Displacement: The foreign food aisle is a liminal space where the immigrant tries to find familiar ingredients. Abti’s prayer there speaks to the yearning for home. The diaspora and displacement theme runs through both poems.
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Assimilation and Identity: The question “is everything you love foreign or are you foreign to everything you love?” cuts to the core of assimilation. Abti is unable to fully integrate; his identity remains tied to Somalia. The assimilation and identity theme is laid bare in that question.
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Maternal Absence and Legacy: Although Abti is a male figure, the poems reference his mother’s warm hands and the mother’s absence. The epigraph lullaby “Your mother isn’t home” resonates with Abti’s own lack of maternal presence in exile. See the maternal absence and legacy theme.
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Womanhood and Girlhood: Abti exists on the periphery of poems focused on female experience, but his story in “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle” contrasts with the speaker’s own journey. The collection’s womanhood and girlhood theme offers a counterpoint to his masculine isolation.
Questions and Answers
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What specific memories does Abti recall while smoking in his London room?
He remembers swimming at Jazeera Beach, riding a motorbike through Suuqa Bakaaraha market, and women holding onto him with hair trailing like black smoke. These are moments of “joy like blindness” and belonging. -
Why does the speaker ask Uncle if everything he loves is foreign?
The question highlights his alienation: he prays in a language he hasn’t used in years and has been with women who cannot pronounce his name. The foreign food aisle becomes a metaphor for his existence—searching for familiar things in a place that remains foreign. -
How does the poem “My Loneliness Is Killing Me” use sensory details to convey displacement?
The poem contrasts the sensory richness of Somali memories (beach, market, motorbike) with the present: London rain, a “small sullen cassette player,” bitter coffee, and tobacco. The smoke itself is a sensory link between times and places. -
What does the Somali phrase “Cidlada ka atkow, Abti—be stronger than your loneliness” suggest about his internal conflict?
It suggests an active struggle against despair. The imperative “atkow” (conquer) frames loneliness as an enemy that must be fought. He is not passively sad but commanded to endure, echoing the survival ethos of the collection. -
In what way does Abti’s experience mirror the broader themes of exile and survival in the book?
His loneliness is the emotional cost of leaving home, while his rituals of smoking, music, and prayer are survival mechanisms. The book’s opening epigraph—a lullaby about a mother who leaves—prepares readers for the separation that defines Abti’s life. He embodies the refugee’s heart described in “Assimilation,” which never fully unpacks. For deeper exploration, see the ending explained and questions and answers sections.