Oil on Water Quotes
Habila, Helon. Oil on Water. London: Penguin Books. 2011.
“No, it was not a pipeline accident, as I told the white man, as I wrote in my published piece. But it
might easily have been one, like in countless other villages” (3) – Rufus.
“Remember, the story is not always the final goal” (5) – Zaq.
- “The meaning of the story, and only a lucky few ever discover that” (5) – Zaq.
“The village looked as if a deadly epidemic had swept through it. A square concrete platform
dominated the village centre like some sacrificial altar” (8) – Rufus.
“Soon we were in a dense mangrove swamp; the water underneath us had turned foul and
sulphurous…” (9) – Rufus.
“…hanging roots that grew out of the water like probosces grasping for air. The atmosphere grew
heavy with the suspended stench of dead matter” (9) – Rufus.
“We followed a bend in the river and in front of us we saw dead birds draped over tree branches,
their outstretched wings black and slick with oil; dead fishes bobbed white-bellied between tree
roots” (9).
“The next village was almost a replica of the last: the same empty squat dwellings, the same ripe and
flagrant stench, the barrenness, the oil slick, and the same indefinable sadness in the air…” (9) –
Rufus.
“Something organic, perhaps human, lay dead and decomposing down there, its stench mixed with
that unmistakable smell of oil” (9) – Rufus.
“The patch of grass growing by the water was suffocated by a film of oil, each blade covered with
blotches like the liver spots on a smoker’s hands” (9) – Rufus.
“I couldn’t understand their words, but I imagined they were speaking of the dwindling stocks of fish
in the river, the rising toxicity of the water, and how soon they might have to move to a place where
the fishing was still fairly good” (17) – Rufus.
“Communities like this had borne the brunt of the oil wars, caught between the militants and the
military, and the only way they could avoid being crushed out of existence was to pretend to be deaf
and dumb and blind” (33) – Rufus.
“It turned out this wasn’t a village at all. It looked like a setting for a sci-fi movie: the meagre
landscape was covered in pipelines flying in all directions, sprouting from the evil-smelling, oil-
fecund earth” (34) – Rufus.
“Once upon a time they lived in paradise, he said, in a small village close to Yellow Island. They
lacked nothing, fishing and hunting and farming and watching their children growing up before
them, happy” (38) – Chief Ibiram to Rufus and Zaq.
“The kidnappers, eager for publicity, would usually invite a select team of reporters to their hideout
to confirm that the hostages were alive and unharmed, after which they would make long speeches
Habila, Helon. Oil on Water. London: Penguin Books. 2011.
“No, it was not a pipeline accident, as I told the white man, as I wrote in my published piece. But it
might easily have been one, like in countless other villages” (3) – Rufus.
“Remember, the story is not always the final goal” (5) – Zaq.
- “The meaning of the story, and only a lucky few ever discover that” (5) – Zaq.
“The village looked as if a deadly epidemic had swept through it. A square concrete platform
dominated the village centre like some sacrificial altar” (8) – Rufus.
“Soon we were in a dense mangrove swamp; the water underneath us had turned foul and
sulphurous…” (9) – Rufus.
“…hanging roots that grew out of the water like probosces grasping for air. The atmosphere grew
heavy with the suspended stench of dead matter” (9) – Rufus.
“We followed a bend in the river and in front of us we saw dead birds draped over tree branches,
their outstretched wings black and slick with oil; dead fishes bobbed white-bellied between tree
roots” (9).
“The next village was almost a replica of the last: the same empty squat dwellings, the same ripe and
flagrant stench, the barrenness, the oil slick, and the same indefinable sadness in the air…” (9) –
Rufus.
“Something organic, perhaps human, lay dead and decomposing down there, its stench mixed with
that unmistakable smell of oil” (9) – Rufus.
“The patch of grass growing by the water was suffocated by a film of oil, each blade covered with
blotches like the liver spots on a smoker’s hands” (9) – Rufus.
“I couldn’t understand their words, but I imagined they were speaking of the dwindling stocks of fish
in the river, the rising toxicity of the water, and how soon they might have to move to a place where
the fishing was still fairly good” (17) – Rufus.
“Communities like this had borne the brunt of the oil wars, caught between the militants and the
military, and the only way they could avoid being crushed out of existence was to pretend to be deaf
and dumb and blind” (33) – Rufus.
“It turned out this wasn’t a village at all. It looked like a setting for a sci-fi movie: the meagre
landscape was covered in pipelines flying in all directions, sprouting from the evil-smelling, oil-
fecund earth” (34) – Rufus.
“Once upon a time they lived in paradise, he said, in a small village close to Yellow Island. They
lacked nothing, fishing and hunting and farming and watching their children growing up before
them, happy” (38) – Chief Ibiram to Rufus and Zaq.
“The kidnappers, eager for publicity, would usually invite a select team of reporters to their hideout
to confirm that the hostages were alive and unharmed, after which they would make long speeches
