Love vs. Duty Theme Analysis

Loving bonds in the novel, whether between family members, friends, or lovers, are extremely powerful. Everyone, to some degree, is motivated by their love for others: Zélie both fights to avenge her parents and tries to call off the war because of love for her fellow maji; Inan and Amari try to orchestrate peace out of love for Zélie, each other, and their family; Mama Agba loves the young maji like children of her own and sacrifices herself for them because of this love. But however strong characters’ love for each other might be, love often butts up against duty—to oneself, to one’s people, or to one’s cause. Though this tension between love and duty most often leads to heartache and tragedy, the characters eventually begin to discover that the two don’t have to exist in opposition to each other. Love and duty can, in rare cases, essentially be the same thing. In those situations, the combination of the two can lead to an even stronger and more unified sense of community.

The goals of the Iyika, the rebel maji group, are clear: overthrow the monarchy and establish their own ruler on the throne who will make sure the maji never suffer again the way they have under King Saran’s family. Given how few maji there are in Orïsha, their goals also include preserving as many lives as possible. By default, however, fighting battles against the monarchy—whose goals are a total takedown of the maji by any means possible, including by sacrificing lives of their own—means that maji are in danger of losing their lives simply by existing, let alone entertaining the idea of fighting back. This makes it very clear that at times, one’s loyalty to loved ones and one’s duty to a cause are naturally going to be in opposition, and the goal for all the novel’s characters on both sides will be to figure out how to balance the two.

Zélie and Inan struggle between love and duty many times throughout the novel. Inan must reconcile his love for his mother, the ruthless Queen Nehanda, and his love for Amari with the fact that Nehanda wants to kill Amari. Amari is also working with Inan’s enemies—a twisted state of affairs that means for Inan, there’s no way to please everyone. Inan is a people-pleaser and a person who has spent his life absorbing King Saran’s message that he must put duty before self, so given that Inan deeply loves people whose actions he despises or who are against him, he finds his situation especially hard to stomach. Zélie, meanwhile, struggles more with the fact that people she loves continue to die for the cause of overthrowing the monarchy—something for which she feels responsible. She carries the weight and the grief of Baba’s death throughout the novel. In addition, after a surprise attack kills her second-in-command Reaper, Mâzeli, Zélie comes to the conclusion that the only way she can balance her relationships and her need to protect those she loves isn’t by fighting: it’s by leaving the country and essentially admitting defeat. That Zélie, Inan, and the other elders continually fail to effectively balance their relationships with duty speaks to the difficulty of this task—especially since their cause will, in theory, save lives in the long run, but at the possible cost of loved ones dying in the short term.

In addition to illustrating the kind of failure that happens when people prioritize their relationships over their responsibilities, Amari and a maji named Jahi make a mistake in the opposite direction. During what the Iyika believe will be an attack on a village where Nehanda and Inan are hiding, a variety of things go wrong—but worst of all, Amari and Jahi unleash a storm of deadly illness on the valley and essentially sacrifice the innocent villagers to kill Nehanda and Inan. Thanks to some of the other mishaps, Zélie is also in the village when Jahi unleashes his plague—something that Amari knows, but chooses not to acknowledge. To the other maji, this reads not just as unspeakably heartless, but ineffective and naïve as well: they learn that the monarchy set a trap for them and that Nehanda and Inan were never in danger, something that, had Amari waited, she would have known. Fortunately, the elders figure out how to reverse the villagers’ deaths and Zélie survives the ordeal, but this doesn’t change that Amari’s willingness to act ruthlessly and alone seriously damages her relationships and credibility with the other elders. However, like Inan, Amari grew up hearing Saran tell her to prioritize duty over her heart, something that colors even Amari’s inner monologue (she continually hears Saran tell her, “Strike, Amari” in her head). She has learned, in essence, that it may be painful to lose relationships, but that they’re always replaceable—whereas there’s seldom a second chance to carry out one’s duty.

The only person who successfully balances love with duty is Mama Agba, who sacrifices herself so that the elders can connect their lifeforces and take on the monarchy. Mama Agba chooses to do this because of the intense love she has for the elders and other maji, and she recognizes that her sacrifices gives those children the best chance at being able to carry out their plans. It’s telling that there is only one person able to do this, as it suggests that on the whole, striking the perfect balance between love and duty is very rare—and it’s not something that Zélie and her companions can rely on working out every time. However, while the novel doesn’t come down forcefully in support of either entirely love or entirely duty, Amari’s actions make the case that applying oneself to a cause without considering the human consequences is an unspeakable offense. Rather, individuals will come closer to emulating Mama Agba when they think of love first, and try to balance that with what they know needs to be done.