Honey & Spice

This second section moves the relationship plot forward by showing how Malakai and Kiki connect, part of the narrative’s romance-genre momentum and jeopardy in the theme Love and the Risk of Betrayal. The author builds suspense and dramatic irony as it is clear to the reader that Kiki is reading Malakai wrong; she thinks he is a player, what she calls a “fuckboi,” while the reader guesses that Malakai is sincere in expressing his interest. Kiki’s resistance shows she is conflicted, while her intense attraction to him provides a counterpoint. This drives the generic romance trope of overcoming internal obstacles and the good relationship as self-growth. The way Kiki imagines everyone is watching them indicates her status as a visible public figure, thanks to her show, but also hints at the way the initial stages of infatuation can feel: that the whole world must be aware of the intensity of what is happening.

The fake relationship plot device is rationalized, by Kiki at least, as the way to help both protagonists pursue their ambition, and their collaborations provide a reason for them to spend more time together, thus developing the romance. Malakai’s interest in film is further developed; his facility with the visual arts complements Kiki’s talents, suggesting they will be compatible partners. The investigation of love from the safe distance of the fake-dating scenario adds a layer of irony and humor. In being friends with Kofi, who is devoted to Aminah, Malakai is in one sense already part of Kiki’s group, and so being with him feels natural, proving that the fake device is already false.

Cultural Pride and Heritage continues to be a key theme in this section and is increasingly presented within a context of racial othering and discrimination. The discrimination with which the characters are regarded by the white people in the world around them continues to be a motif in this section, adding a note of realism to the setting and insights into how persons of color are, too often, treated in communities that are predominately white. Malakai references this when he explains that the barbershop where he found a community of men he could learn from and admire was a refuge from a world that was not always safe or warm for him as a young Black man. The distinctions between the east and west side of the town of Whitewell play out the opposition that Kiki perceives: One place feels hostile, where she is surveilled and occasionally treated with suspicion. The other direction holds the culture that feels familiar in terms of food, products, and language and becomes her own safe and warm space, one where she isn’t considered different or regarded as an exotic curiosity.

The advertised debate between the Black students of the ACS and the Whitewell Knights over the question of “which lives matter” is odious to Kiki and Adwoa because they realize the claim that “All Lives Matter” veils a racist backlash against calls for equality and awareness about the impacts of racism. Part of the theme of Community Versus Competition, the book’s interrogation of this real backlash explores how disingenuous parties can couch divisive messages in the language of universality. Kiki recognizes the betrayal of their group in that Zack, who is supposed to represent Blackwell, would allow a platform to engage with rhetoric likely to rationalize or minimalize the impacts of racism. Kiki’s unwillingness to use her own influence to protest signifies that her character still has to grow into acknowledging and exercising her voice and her personal power—something her mentor Dr. Miller encouraged, and that Kiki counseled her listeners to do, but that she still has to do herself.