Who Is The Antagonist In 'Purple Hibiscus' And Why?

The main antagonist in 'Purple Hibiscus' is Eugene Achike, the father of the protagonist Kambili. He's a wealthy and devout Catholic who rules his household with an iron fist, masking his cruelty behind religious piety. Eugene beats his wife and children for minor 'sins' like not finishing their homework or visiting their 'heathen' grandfather. His abuse isn't just physical—he isolates his family, controls every aspect of their lives, and enforces silence through fear. What makes him terrifying is how he genuinely believes he's saving their souls. The church praises him as a pillar of the community, which highlights the hypocrisy of his character. His tyranny represents the toxic blend of colonialism and religious fundamentalism in postcolonial Nigeria.

In 'Purple Hibiscus', the antagonist Eugene Achike embodies the destructive power of internalized oppression. As a successful businessman and devout Catholic, he violently rejects traditional Igbo culture while worshipping European ideals. His abuse towards his family—especially his son Jaja, who dares to rebel—reveals deep insecurity masked as discipline.

The novel contrasts Eugene with his sister Ifeoma, who represents progressive values. Where Ifeoma encourages critical thinking, Eugene demands blind obedience. His home becomes a prison where meals are timed to the minute and laughter is forbidden. The turning point comes when he hospitalizes his wife for visiting her own father, exposing how his 'protection' is really control.

What's chilling is how ordinary Eugene seems—a respected community leader who donates to churches while breaking his children's fingers for failing tests. His character asks uncomfortable questions about how power corrupts, and how religion can weaponize abuse. When Jaja finally stands up to him, it's not just personal rebellion but a rejection of the colonial mindset Eugene represents.

Eugene Achike in 'Purple Hibiscus' is one of those antagonists that lingers in your mind because he's terrifyingly realistic. He isn't some cartoon villain—he's a father who quotes Bible verses while pouring boiling water on his children's feet. His abuse stems from warped love; he thinks brutality will make his family 'perfect' in God's eyes.

The irony cuts deep. Eugene publicly fights for democracy but runs a dictatorship at home. He funds newspapers that criticize the military regime yet beats his daughter for getting second place in school. This hypocrisy mirrors Nigeria's postcolonial struggles—the way external oppression gets recycled into domestic violence.

What fascinates me is how his children perceive him. Kambili initially worships him, which makes her awakening more powerful. When she finally sees his fragility—how he crumbles after Jaja rebels—it reshapes her entire world. The real antagonist isn't just Eugene, but the silence he imposes. The novel's triumph is watching that silence shatter.