Welcome to The Reading Nook where I share my reading journey and discuss books and bookish stuff. If you’re not interested in this segment of the newsletter, you can toggle off these emails in your account settings.
Hello reader! Thank you for being here again. I hope you’re doing well. I have some changes and new ideas in store for the newsletter (including an interview series for The Reading Nook!!!) which I plan to share with you soon. Till then :)
What kind of reading month was it?
This was a good reading month for me: no reading slumps in sight and effortless transitions from one book to the next. I read seven books – and enjoyed most of them – which is the most I’ve read in a month this year. I think I owe it largely to the fact that I wasn’t watching any movies or shows at all this month and I always had a book queued up before I finished a current read.
April Reads
Tomorrow I Become A Woman by Aiwanose Odafen (2022)
I read the sequel, We Were Girls Once, first (and enjoyed it!) but I didn’t plan on reading this until two of my friends who recently got into fiction wanted us to do a buddy read with a Nigerian novel and we chose this. Because I read the sequel beforehand, I knew the general trajectory of major events, but that didn’t take away from my experience. Tomorrow I Become A Woman is set in Lagos from the 1970s to the early noughties and follows the story of Obianuju as she navigates womanhood, marriage, motherhood, and friendship. Obianuju, the only daughter among three boys, was raised in a home where the differences between her and her siblings were starkly highlighted. Obianuju discovered from a young age that being born ‘a woman’ meant doing and caring about things boys were oblivious to from the quality of your cooking to the length of your skirt. Obianuju observed:
My brothers could barely boil an egg, whereas I started joining Mama in the kitchen the moment I turned eight, learning to cook at her feet. By the time I was ten, I could make a good pot of soup without any help. Once I was tall enough, Mama started to send me to the market for food-stuff and taught me how to bargain for the best price.
So when in her last year of university, Gozie – the handsome, Igbo choir member in church who all the women are pining for – notices her, Obianuju’s mother makes it clear she has to grab this opportunity by the throat. The book spans two decades as we follow Obianuju’s and Gozie’s relationship, which eventually turns sour, and witness Obianuju’s best friends, Adaugo and Chinelo, navigate their journeys of marriage and motherhood. The theme of marriage is heavily explored; what it means to women and the ‘respect’ it earns them. Domestic violence and verbal abuse are also prominently featured. The story impressively captured the varying angles of a Nigerian woman’s experience and her position in society. Although Odafen’s writing style was sometimes awkward with the dialogue coming off as unnatural at times (her writing improved in We Were Once Girls), it doesn’t take much from the story and I enjoyed reading it.
Jackal, Jackal by Tobi Ogundiran (2023)
This is a short story collection of 18 speculative stories of the horror, sci-fi, and fantasy genres. I was excited when I found this book because I have a thing for African speculative fiction (Drinking from Graveyard Wells and Ghostroots are two of my favourite short story collections). As it happens with short story collections, there were some I thoroughly enjoyed and others I didn’t care for.
Some of my favourites were ‘Jackal, Jackal’, a story about a fugitive whose sins are expunged when he wears a literal Jackal head. He returns to his life and his family, but things go awry the longer he wears the head. ‘The Many Lives of an Abiku’ appealed to me because I love it when Nigerian supernatural beliefs are ingrained in stories. This one follows a tussle between an Abiku (a spirit child who causes their mother anguish by repeatedly dying young and being reborn) and her spirit family because she loves her earthly family and doesn’t want to return to the spirit world. In ‘Lágbájá’, parents tell a cautionary tale to disobedient children about Lágbájá (which translates to nobody, everybody or anybody in English) who replaces obstinate kids by taking over their lives and living as compliant versions of them. I enjoyed the concept of the tale more than the actual story. Lastly, ‘Guardian of the Gods’ is about a girl who has been training to be a priestess for years but never hears from the gods. She’s grappling with anger and embarrassment over the perceived unfairness of it all when she discovers a life-changing secret.
Although I didn’t enjoy all of the stories, especially those that leaned more towards epic fantasy and sci-fi, I was impressed by the author’s range and ability to experiment with several genres under the speculative fiction umbrella.
A drawback for me was that I went in expecting these stories to be very Nigerian but it felt diluted. There were times I forgot the characters and settings were meant to be Nigerian and when the story mentioned something to remind me of this, it felt out of place. I think this was because the dialogue barely came off as Nigerian. Nigerian lingo and speech didn’t shine through.
Obligations to the Wounded by Mubanga Kalimamukwento (2024)
Yes, I read two short story collections back to back. I found this one through a creative writing workshop I participated in that was founded and hosted by three African writers and Mubanga Kalimamukwento was one of them. I adore the cover of this book; I think it’s so pretty. It’s a collection of 16 stories and you could say the thread that connects these stories, aside from the characters’ Zambian nationality, is that each of these characters is ‘wounded’ by something or someone and the stories explore how they contend with these emotional, mental, social and or economic lacerations.
The stories delve into mother-daughter dynamics, navigating queer identities and relationships, immigration, racism, illness, the realities and shortcomings of living in an African country and so much more.
My favourite stories were: ‘Inswa’, a sapphic story about a girl and her friend exploring their sexuality and what that means in a small Zambian village. ‘A Doctor, a Lawyer, an Engineer, or a Shame to the Family’ – which has a clever title and structure and good humour – is written as a letter from the protagonist to her newborn niece. The letter is to be opened on her niece’s 16th birthday and the protagonist narrates her and her sibling’s history and choices, referencing them to make her point on the different paths her niece can take in life and how her choices affect what the family will see her as: a success or a shame. ‘Mastitis’ follows a woman who concurrently lost her mother and became a mother. Her life is permeated with struggles: her marriage is hanging by a thread; breastfeeding is going horribly; coping with the absence of her mother in her life and also in her journey of motherhood is distressing. Until she receives help from her mother in an unexpected way. This story had some speculative elements sprinkled in which was unexpected, but I loved it.
Every time I read non-Nigerian African fiction, I’m always in awe of the similarities I discover between our countries. We’re connected by an invisble thread made of corrupt and incompetent governments and the legacy of colonialism, amongst other things.
It was interesting to see how this collection experimented with structure and uncommon narrators. The stories immersed me in the lives of so many intriguing characters and I feel Kalimamukwento did an amazing job in capturing their plights, their feelings and their perspectives. Her writing goes deep into the intricacies of its characters’ lives and through noticing the small and disregarded, she gives a new outlook to things usually hidden in plain sight.
Tilda is Visible by Jane Tara (2024)
In this novel, invisibility is a very real and physical condition that affects women as they age. It can start with being passed off for promotions at work or not being attended to by waiters at restaurants, but as it progresses, body parts begin to disappear. There is no cure for invisibility. At 52 years old, Tilda Finch is divorced, her twin daughters are old enough to move out and create lives for themselves, and she has a thriving business with her best friend. Life isn’t great, but she can’t complain. Then one day, Tilda notices her pinky finger is missing. The book follows Tilda on the journey of her diagnosis and dealing with invisibility. The point of the novel is for Tilda to fall in love with herself and life again.
I was excited to read this book because I’m all for stories of women, especially older women, re-discovering themselves and falling in love with life. But I got something a bit different. This novel leans heavily into psychoanalysis and meditation, not sparing the reader from details. It felt didactic and I wanted less of the specifics of her recovery and more of her female friendships which seemed amazing but weren’t explored enough. And while the book tried to highlight the meandering nature of healing, there was an unrealistic streak that permeated the narrative. A lack of real obstacles and tension. Things got good too fast and stayed that way. Even the romance had no real hitches – the love interest and his family were irritatingly zen and accomplished.
I liked the idea behind the book but didn’t love the execution. I don’t regret reading it though. I learned some things about mindfulness and it was a nice accompaniment as I try to build a meditation practice. That’s probably why it’s tagged as ‘self-help fiction.’
Nightbloom by Peace Adzo Mezie (2023)
From the author of His Only Wife – a short and captivating read that I love to recommend to new readers – is a tale of two cousins, Akorfa and Selasi, set in contemporary Ghana. The first part of the book is narrated by Akorfa, the quieter one of the duo, who lives a comfortable and secure life with her parents and excels academically. We get a glimpse into Akorfa’s life: her desires, her academic journey, her friendships – especially her perspective on the evolution of her and Akorfa’s friendship – how much of her life is coloured by her mother’s beliefs and desires and eventually, her turbulent journey into adulthood. Immediately after, we return to the beginning of the story to see things from Selasi’s perspective. Selasi, the more outgoing cousin who struggles in school and whose parents aren’t economically buoyant, has an extremely different life. We get a glimpse into her perspective of the evolution of her friendship with Akorfa, and the various circumstances that lined her journey into adulthood.
My eyes were glued to this book and it took me on a gripping and infuriating ride. The novel is first and foremost about Akorfa and Selasi’s friendship, however, messy African family dynamics complete with love, entitlement, gossip, and distrust surround their lives. The distinction of both characters’ perspectives allowed for a deep dive into their worries, preoccupations and journeys with Akorfa’s exploring racism and immigration and Selasi’s exploring abandonment and ambition. But despite their different economic statuses and location, they both exist as women and go through similar unfair and traumatic experiences.
This book was filled with so much family drama that was captivating and frighteningly relatable. I felt as if the ending dragged on a little longer than necessary, but I had such a great time reading it. I’d advise reading this book with someone, or having someone close by who has read it before to rant to because you will need to rant.
Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors (2024)
This is my first Coco Mellors read and it was recommended to me by my friend,
, who absolutely loved it. I usually try to avoid books exploring grief, but they can turn out to be such good reads, like this. Blue Sisters is a literary fiction novel about four sisters. After one of them dies, the remaining three are left grappling with their grief and their messy lives. 33-year-old Avery Blue, the oldest and substitute mother (as firstborn daughters tend to be), is a successful lawyer in London. She is married to a beautiful and smart therapist and they own an elegant home in a homely neighbourhood. She comes across as perfect, but we soon find out her life is far from perfect. 31-year-old Bonnie Blue was a championship boxer but after a humiliating loss just after her sister’s death, she abandons her dream of boxing to become a bouncer in LA. Then there’s Lucky Blue, the baby of the family who was plunged into a different world when she left home at 15 to begin her modelling career. Currently 26, living in Paris, and still modelling, Lucky depends on drugs and alcohol to get through every moment. A year after their sister Nicky’s death, the sisters struggle with their grief, trials, childhood wounds, and their relationship with each other.As someone with four sisters, I loved how the theme of sisterhood took up so much space in this book. It is referenced, examined, and lauded. The portrayal of different facets of the sisters’ relationships, from care to indignation and everything in between, is explored. Aside from sisterhood and grief, the book touches on addiction and dysfunctional family dynamics. Although the novel dealt with many heavy topics, I appreciated the humour that punctuated the pages.
Impostor Alert by Uduak Akpabio Umoren (2018)
Set in Nigeria in the early 2010s, this story follows Inyene Okon who is bound on a bus from Akwa Ibom to Lagos state after her plan to marry a man and secure herself financially falls through. Now, she’s returning to her difficult life in Lagos where every moment is spent battling poverty and she works as a sex worker to make ends meet. Seated beside her on the bus is Etima Uko, a chatty woman who tells Inyene so much about her life including her family name, village, and the purpose of her trip to Lagos: to finally meet her handsome and rich boyfriend, Paul, a friend of her brother, who she has been conversing with on the phone. When they are thrown into a ghastly accident and Inyene along with two other men are the only survivors, somehow, Inyene ends up impersonating Etima. Their similar build and skin tone along with the facial injuries that ensure huge areas of her face are covered up with bandages, helps Inyene pose as Etima, especially with Paul who hasn’t met her in person before. Paul and Etima’s family (who are not in Lagos) are generous and all of Inyene’s bills are taken care of. But Inyene’s voice and speech are different from Etima’s – Inyene speaks pidgin English while Etima didn’t – so it doesn’t take too long before Etima’s loved ones, especially her younger sister, Ekemini, start suspecting that something is amiss.
The novel goes back and forth between Akwa Ibom and Lagos and this was my first time reading a book set in the South-South zone of Nigeria. I loved seeing all the Ibibio names I knew and the ones I had never heard of. I was interested in seeing how things would pan out for Inyene and at what point everything would fall apart. The author’s writing style wasn’t complicated and it was easy to read. However, my overall experience of reading this book was mediocre. Sometimes, the dialogue read like a stiff Nollywood film where the actors talked like they were acting in a church drama where the ultimate goal was teaching a moral lesson. Another issue I had was the narration. It got confusing as the perspectives were all over the place, with the reader hearing from up to three different characters in the same chapter or even the same page, with no warning of a shift in perspective. I went into the book expecting a riveting read, but it was unfortunately an unremarkable experience.
What else I read (and loved):
❀ An essay titled ‘make more pointy friends’ by
. Days before I read this essay, I had been musing over my desire for friendships formed around a specific interest over which we can connect deeply and this essay put my thoughts into words and so much more.What else I wrote & published:
❀ An interview with the author of African Writer Weekly. I’ve wanted to interview her for a while now because of how much joy and inspiration the newsletter brings me. I finally did it and heard the story behind the newsletter as well as more amazing ideas she has. We also talked about rejection and resources for African writers.
❀ In my writers’ group last year, we each wrote a story with an unreliable narrator for fun. I ended up getting accepted to the Idembeka Creative Writing Workshop with that story and recently, the story got published in JayLit’s 9th issue! You can read my story titled Perpetual Latecomer (it’s flash fiction) or download the issue for free to read more pieces by amazing African writers.
I’m currently reading: Faceless by Amma Darko
That’s it for today! I hope you enjoyed this. I would love love love to hear from you so talk to me in the comments or by replying to this email:
❀ What kind of reading month was it for you?
❀ What are you currently reading?
❀ What was the last book you read that evoked strong emotions?
❀ Any recommendations you’d like to share?
Shegbatuba! 👋🏾
i gobbled this up
as usual babyyyy