African Women Writing

Celebrating the Words of African Women and Women of African Descent.

Category: Fiction (Page 2 of 3)

Book Review and Reflection of We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo

5 May 2025 /
Reading Time: 4 minutes
Cover of the book “We Need New Names” by NoViolet Bulawayo, photographed upright on gravel with pink flowers in the background.
My copy of We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo, captured on a quiet morning in the garden — a vibrant cover for a powerful story.

Genre: Coming of Age, Fiction
Date of Publication: 2013
Get a copy HERE

Introduction

Another literary gem from Zimbabwe. Firstly, I adore the cover of the hard copy I received. We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo is striking from the very start. Chilling themes are revealed early on and continue to unfold throughout the book. The writing is excellent. NoViolet takes readers into a vivid world that feels almost tangible, with its incredible nuances threaded throughout. One may miss hidden meanings if they aren’t looking closely. For instance, in Chapter One, Darling, the protagonist, says:

“We just walk nicely like Budapest is now our country too, like we built it even, eating guavas along the way and spitting the peels all over to make the place dirty.” (p.11)

Here, Daling and her friends indicate that they dream of belonging, of living in good neighbourhoods and good houses. But because they do not in reality, they can do something small to taint the perfection—they can make it dirty, even just a little bit. But it is the intention that matters.

There are also various nuances about countries. For instance, Darling says:

“We just eat a lot of guavas because it’s the only way to kill our hunger, and when it comes to defecating, we get in so much pain it becomes an almost impossible task, like you are trying to give birth to a country.” (p.16)
Or “like he has swallowed a country.” (p. 45)

There are many such lines, alluding to the state of their country and how they experience it—the understanding of a country’s significance. Knowing Zimbabwe’s history, especially in light of colonialism, independence, and the international sanctions imposed on it in the 2000s, explains a lot.

Book Summary

Set in Zimbabwe, this book does not waste any time getting to very serious themes, cleverly couched in what may seem like the everyday. The first chapter already paints an unequal world, where Black Zimbabweans are poor, hungry, and even abused. The first chapter starts with Darling and her friends “hitting Budapest,” and readers discover that one of her friends, Chipo, is pregnant at 11 years old and has stopped talking, alluding to sexual violence and trauma. Thus, early on, we are introduced to the hardships these children face and what they are exposed to.

Darling and her friends walk from their place of residence, which they have named “Paradise”, an informal settlement, to what they call “Budapest”, seemingly a rich and lush suburban area with beautiful houses inhabited by white people. The children aspire to own houses just like these one day. And Darling? She has bigger dreams, she will live in America one day, her America, she calls it.

But Paradise was not always their home; they were displaced there. At this, I thought the book was set in colonial Zimbabwe, but we find later that it seems to be post-independence Zimbabwe. And so, a powerful narration of how we are not living in a post-colonial world, the injustices of colonialism, even though it has legally been abolished, linger.

This brings much clarity to the emphasis on countries woven through the book: what makes a country? Who oppresses, and who are the oppressed? What is a real country? What is the significance of a country? Like the emphasis on countries, “things being real” is another thread flowing through this book. Darling and her friends often emphasise how the things they do or have are for real, games they play, for instance, and much more.

Another interesting theme is the white saviourism that gives but also captures. For instance, NGO personnel frequent Paradise, bringing its inhabitants gifts, taking pictures of them, but do not want to touch them, drawing a clear othering line between the us and them dichotomy. Yet, they take pictures of them at every chance they get. The children are grateful, but the adults are humiliated by the charity. NoViolet weaves this picture-taking conundrum of poor Africans sporadically throughout the book, leaving readers to ponder its meaning.

More themes that Stood Out

Another theme that stood out to me was the character of Darling’s father, the man who abandoned his family in search of better, forgot them, and then returned when on the verge of death. This is as heartbreaking as it is common: men leaving their wives and children behind, never to return, or returning only in precarious conditions. We see a similar fate befall Atini in Sindiwe Magona’s Living, Loving and Lying Awake at Night.

Chapter 10 – “How They Left” is so chilling, it grabs you and tightens your heart in a familiar pain, especially if you are an immigrant who was forced to leave their country. Only a page and a half long, but it weighed so much. NoViolet made a poignant point when she said:

“They will never be the same again. Because you just cannot be the same once you leave behind who and what you are, you just cannot be the same.” (p.146)

Will Darling be one of those who left in droves? Will she finally meet HER America? And if she does? What does she make of it?
Get yourself a copy of this phenomenal book to find out.

Black Joy Shines Through

With all the heavy themes of this book, Black joy still peeks out. It is in the characters that NoViolet has produced, especially the children. In the midst of all that was going on, they found ways to have adventure, entertainment, and to carry on somehow.

Mina Salami, in her book Sensuous Knowledge (review coming soon), explains that Black joy is not an absence of hardship—it is recognising those hardships but also choosing to find moments of joy, creativity, hope, ease, security, and freedom. This same Black joy is woven across the pages of Sindiwe Magona’s earlier-mentioned book, Living, Loving and Lying Awake at Night.

Recommendations

Everyone of age, African or not, should read this book. Even though this is a work of fiction, it is based on the realities of not just many Zimbabweans, but many other people whose countries have encountered such deep trouble that their sons and daughters had to leave in droves, but also of the reality of those who stay.

About the Author

NoViolet Bulawayo is a Zimbabwean author whose writing captures the complexity of migration, identity, and postcolonial struggle with gripping honesty and poetic power. Her debut novel, We Need New Names, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. She has subsequently written others that I am eager to read and review: Country Country (2020) and Glory (2022).

Book Review and Reflection of If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English by Noor Naga

21 April 2025 /
Reading Time: 4 minutes
Book cover of "If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English" by Noor Naga, featuring a painted portrait of a young Egyptian with curly hair and expressive eyes holding a shield and sword, with bold yellow and white text on a dark background.
The cover of If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English by Noor Naga presents a richly colored artwork portraying a young Egyptian figure with curly hair, expressive eyes, and full lips, holding historical armour and weaponry. [Image from Amazon.com]

Published: 2022
Accolades: [As listed on Amazon]

  • Winner of the 2022 Centre for Fiction First Novel Prize
  • Winner of the 2023 Arab American Book Award for Fiction
  • Shortlisted for the 2022 Scotiabank Giller Prize
  • Shortlisted for the 2023 PEN/Jean Stein Book Award
  • Shortlisted for the 2022 VCU Cabell First Novelist Award

Genre: Fiction (This becomes confusing towards the end, but research confirms it is fiction.)
Buy the book HERE

Country: Egypt

Introduction

If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English is framed around two individuals from vastly different backgrounds meeting and forming a relationship. What a book! The first thing that struck me, and I loved it very early on, was how it was written. The story is narrated by the boy from Shobrakheit and the American girl. It is lyrical and poetic.

Book Summary and reflections

The book is divided into three parts. Every section in Part One begins with a question, such as, “Question: If you’re waiting for the Other Shoe to drop, Have you not dropped it yourself?” Part Two consists of 36 short chapters. Part Three is a discussion about the book and its themes.

The boy is from a village called Shobrakheit, a photographer and former activist during the revolution, now unemployed, addicted to drugs and clearly suffering from some deep-rooted mental health problems. The woman is an American-born Egyptian who returns to Egypt to reconnect with her roots despite her parents’ protests. Her Arabic is infantile, but she is eager to improve it. Because she is different from all the rest, with her American ways, she is othered, labelled an outsider – people do not really believe she is Egyptian. As she navigates Cairo, her sense of belonging and identity are at the core—people continue to ask where she is from, and the boy simply calls her “the American girl.” She, in turn, calls him the boy from Shobrakheit, without using his name.

The boy is essentially homeless. Without any prior agreement, he moves into the girl’s apartment and rapes her on the very first night. The language is subtle, and it is unclear whether the girl acknowledges the act as rape, she never brings it up again. When this unsolicited cohabitation happened, I panicked for her. I held my breath; she was essentially letting a stranger into her home. It felt opportunistic on his end, and it probably was. A means of survival. But it was also uncertain on her end, as she was reluctant to give him a spare key.

He becomes trapped in her apartment without the key, and she becomes his entire world. He spends the days doing nothing, waiting for her to come home from work. At one point, he describes her as drained after a day’s work, yet he does not help with cooking or cleaning. The girl is jolted out of her American norms and tolerances. Their living arrangement becomes something patriarchal or more abusive than anything else—she is doing everything: earning, paying the bills, and catering to him, taking care of him.

Burdened by addiction and past trauma, the boy is deeply troubled. He begins to take out his frustrations on her. The violence builds slowly. He grows restless and increasingly aggressive, resentful of the fact that she goes out to work and sometimes socialises while he stays at home, afraid to leave as he has no key to return. Eventually, the socialising stops, and he isolates her. He also starts to feel detached from himself, never having considered himself violent. Thankfully, he leaves—but is it really over? The girl’s flat has many balconies, which take on symbolic significance in various ways until the end.

This is as far as the spoilers go. I encourage everyone who hasn’t read the book to grab a copy and discover how the story unfolds for themselves.

Final Reflections and Recommendations

This book is jam-packed with themes. So many themes—identity, belonging, survival, self-discovery, poverty, domestic abuse, delusion. I was wide-eyed when the boy from Shobrakheit refused a job because he believed it was beneath him, despite being homeless, clinging to delusions about his status and worth, instilled by stories his grandmother told him years ago.

Noor Naga delivers a gripping read. The writing is beautiful. Poetic, methodical, and rich. Readers will not want to put this down, especially since it’s short enough to read in just a few sittings. However, I believe this masterpiece deserves a slow read, part by part, to truly let it all sink in. That said, it will be hard to pace yourself because you’ll constantly be afraid for the girl, urging you to read on and find out how it all ends.

About the Author

Noor Naga, author of If an Egyptian Cannot Speak English.

from her website:

Noor Naga is an Alexandrian writer who was born in Philadelphia, raised in Dubai and studied in Toronto. Her work has been published in Granta, LitHub, Poetry, BOMB, The Walrus, The Common, The Offing, and more. In 2017, she won the Bronwen Wallace Award for Poetry, and in 2019, she won both the RBC/PEN Canada New Voices Award and the DISQUIET Fiction Prize. Her verse-novel Washes, Prays was published by McClelland & Stewart in 2020. Set in Toronto, this genre-bending work follows an immigrant woman’s romantic relationship with a married man and her ensuing crisis of faith. It won the Pat Lowther Memorial Award, as well as the Arab American Book Award, and was listed in the Best Canadian Poetry of 2020 by CBC.

If you enjoyed this book review, you might also like our review of Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Book Review and Reflection of African Love Stories: An Anthology

14 April 2025 /
Reading Time: 5 minutes

African love stories is authored by various African women from various African countries.

Edited by: Ama Ata Aidoo

Published: 2006

Get the book HERE

Cover of the book "African Love Stories: An Anthology" edited by Ama Ata Aidoo, lying on green grass with a yellow dandelion and colourful page markers. Photograph taken by Tungombili Shangadi.
My copy of African Love Stories: An Anthology, edited by Ama Ata Aidoo, was captured on a sunny day. Photograph by Tungombili Shangadi.

African Love Stories: Introduction


In my usual way, I went into this book blindly. I read the title, and I was sold. I love love and was extremely excited to read about African love stories. But Ama Ata Aidoo makes it very clear in the introduction that these are not conventional (the Western love stories we are used to) love stories.

These stories are about love nevertheless—in the various ways it is experienced. Relationships that sometimes had a romantic connection, and others with other aims, like survival. In some of them, the love story is not told.

The point that Aidoo makes is that, firstly, African love stories exist. That people do not always live and live happily ever after. Love stories are certainly never smooth.

She adds:

“The twenty-one tales that make up this edition are some of the most complex love stories any reader may have come across in a long time” (page xi).

I concur.

Book Summary

This book is an anthology containing 21 short stories of African people, spanning across the continent. I counted Sudan, several from Nigeria, Uganda, Ghana, Egypt, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Ivory Coast, and Kenya.

Many of the stories do not detail romantic love, and some narrate the afterlives of relationships. Some do not even detail a love connection but rather allude to one. The stories are about the ordinary realities of everyday life—the complexities of co-existence, navigating race, cultural differences, forbidden love in some cases and survival relationships in others. The stories vary in length – Some of the stories are so short that just as you get into them, they end. This is what I felt with Sarah Ladipo Manyika’s Modupe—an extremely short story about a woman reminiscing in an airport lounge.

However, I found many of them—being African myself—resonated with me. Many times, I felt like I was reading something from my own community. It always fascinates me how similar we all are. For instance, strange white men coming to do business in our villages and cities, and taking a native girl for themselves, like in Tropical Fish by Doreen Baingana.

Extramarital affairs, as explored in various stories. ‘Transition to Glory’ by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie—this one had a sudden and unusual, yet very real, twist to it, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The emotions, the commotion, the calm, and even the audacity in the end were remarkable. Molara Ogundipe’s ‘Give Us That Spade!’ details the remnants of an extramarital affair, and it was hilarious! I loved it. I loved the complexity but also the determination and bravery.

Equally, ‘The Rival’ by Yaba Badoe was a hilarity. The audacity of both the sister and the niece is out of this world—or is it? What was striking for me, though, was how Mr. Mensah tried to love the women in his life the best way he could—gentle but firm and fair. He stood up for his wife but also helped his sister and her children, including the one who thought herself worthy of replacing his wife!

I thought Blessing Musariri’s Counting Down the Hours was quite heartbreaking and had many layers of complexity. I loved it when Namibia, my home country, was mentioned, but it left me heartbroken in its brief yet impactful narration of the different relationships we have—family, lovers, and ourselves—and the hurt and loneliness of abandonment.

Véronique Tadjo’s offering, A Sunny Afternoon, is not an extramarital relationship, but it could have been. It was definitely a romantic love story—albeit one-sided and even delusional, but all the same, hopeful. This one was quite gripping, very intense, and complex. I gasped and gasped and gasped as I read. It can be relatable in so many ways to so many people: intense desire, mistakes, self-inflicted heartbreak, bold moves, misjudgment, abandonment. It was everything, and I loved it.

I was a little sad when the protagonist thought on page 220:

“What a silly thing to have done. Nobody escapes reality. Nobody can escape the truth.”

The Lawless by Sefi Atta painted such a bleak picture of loss, poverty, and a government failing its people. The love story—if one can even call it that—was not the main feature, but the author builds several layers that one must peel like an onion. The theme of survival is very much at the centre, but as much of life is, it intertwines with others.

Interracial relationships are narrated in Something Old, Something New by Leila Aboulela, and Marriage and Other Impediments by Tomi Adeaga. There are definite love stories here, but they are not the focus. The focus is elsewhere—overcoming various impediments: culture, religion, race, parental expectations, and much more.

Mildred Kiconco Barya’s Scars of Earth, set in Uganda, was very short but striking. I was reading it expecting something else to have happened—only for the ending to reveal another. This story does not even narrate the love story itself, but leaves it up to our imagination to figure out how much that love story meant to the protagonist.

Sindiwe Magona’s Modi’s Bride tugged at my heartstrings. I could vividly imagine Modi—a strong, determined man who knew exactly who he wanted and would not settle for just anything or anyone. I was surprised that marriage in their culture could come by way of abduction—I thought that was interesting. This story had all the makings of the romantic love stories we consume in Western literature and media: a warrior, a beautiful woman, a tragedy, and a rescue.

Monica Arac de Nyeko’s Jambula Tree was interesting—different from all the rest so far in a particular way, but also like the others in its complexity. It interweaves several stories in one, with snippets across generations—refreshing in that way.

Helen Oyeyemi’s The Telltale Heart was very poetic and lyrical. It might need a few re-reads to grasp—at least, I needed to revisit it to understand some of its deep-rooted meanings.

Nawal El Saadawi’s The Veil was very short, approximately four pages. It was something of a love story, but again, there is a lot to reflect on there—on the relationships we have with ourselves and the way we navigate our relationships with others. Something the protagonist said on page 210 stayed with me:

“A violent desire to find out can sometimes be more compelling than the desire for love and can, at times, draw me into loveless contact simply to satisfy that curiosity.”

Chika Unigwe’s Possessing the Secret of Joy is the penultimate story, and it started off with a very familiar but very bleak beginning. The pressures of parents to marry well—marry rich to lift the family out of poverty. That is a type of pressure that is unimaginable. It has the effect of stripping one of their autonomy, their hold on their own lives.

But what is one to do when one has to think about more than themselves? When the worst has happened to them, and their mother did the best she could to keep them alive? My heart bled for Uju, but it fluttered warmly for her in the end, when Unigwe defined the secret of joy Uju possessed!

Wangui wa Goro’s Deep Sea Fishing was so romantic and touching. I kept thinking the whole time—reciprocity. It was a remarkable way to end the book.

Final Reflections and Recommendations

I did as Ama Ata Aidoo advised in the beginning—took each story in its individuality, savoured it, and sat in it to truly appreciate each and every one. This is what I did; I read one story at a time and let the characters and the storylines sink in.

By nature, I do not gravitate towards short stories, as I tend to have more questions in the end, longing to find out more, knowing no more will come. But these stories, varying in length and tenacity, were holistic nonetheless. They are stories that cover broad themes that encapsulate our varied lived experiences. Although fictional, they resonate in many degrees.

I would recommend it for all adults. Not for those looking for typical romantic stories—even though some of the stories contain this theme—but for those looking for relatable, real stories of how love manifests in our lives in various degrees.

And to cement Aidoo’s advice: read them slowly to take them in.

If you enjoyed this, you might also like our review of Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Book Review and Reflection of Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter by Nozipo Maraire

7 April 2025 /
Reading Time: 6 minutes

Book Review and Reflection of Zenzele

Date of Publication: 1996
Genre: Fiction
Buy the book HERE

Cover of Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter by Nozipo Maraire held in hand outdoors, with vibrant green grass in the background, symbolizing growth, heritage, and reflection. Photo by Tungombili Shangadi.
Cover of Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter by Nozipo Maraire held in hand outdoors, with vibrant green grass in the background, symbolizing growth, heritage, and reflection. Photo by Tungombili Shangadi.

Introduction

Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter, in my opinion, should be ranked as an African literary classic and should be part of the curricula in schools in Africa and around the world. This is the book I wish I had read before moving to England, and it’s the book I wish everyone would read before moving to the West. For this reason, I decided on an extensive Book Review and Reflection of Zenzele as reflected below.

The first thing that came to my mind while reading is Maraire’s beautiful storytelling talent—so lyrical, so gripping. The book is a lovely fictional letter that a Zimbabwean mother wrote to her beautiful, adventurous daughter Zenzele, who was about to leave the nest and take on the world, starting with her studies in America.

Book Summary

In the introductory pages, Zenzele’s mother describes her daughter with such adoration and love. She often compares her young self to her daughter—the simple life she lived compared to the hearty, full, yet yearning one her daughter now lives. It’s amazing to see this upward generational move. I am a mother, and I see the same thing with my daughter. My friends who are mothers say the same.

Chapter 2 was striking. I do not know what I expected, but after reading Chapter 2, it wasn’t this. But I was tremendously and pleasantly surprised that it was this. In this chapter, Maraire emphasizes the importance of keeping our culture and identity alive. She reflects on the distortion that Western ideals bring, and the unfortunate alignment some of us make with Western ways of living and being—living in cities and abandoning where we come from in the wake of all this.

In this chapter, she addresses Zenzele’s hatred of going to their village, Chakowa, for holidays. Zenzele did not understand why her parents were subjecting her to that, while her peers enjoyed lavish holidays elsewhere. Zenzele’s mother then sets out to educate her daughter about the village by telling her about her own upbringing—a beautiful narration of the simple life in the village. The lush nature and the freedom that came with living in the open. Very subtly, but indeed powerfully, she connects the ravages of colonialism to the destruction of thriving livelihoods in the country, together with the inevitable struggle for liberation.

I found it interesting how she and her sister made sense of colonialism at a young age—the differences they noticed between the natives and the colonialists. For instance, she noted: “Early on, I noticed the difference between us and them,” (page 23) when referring to the differences in presentation that poverty and abundance drew between the whites and Blacks. Her younger sister Linda was more political, even without realising it—problematising things like basic freedoms of going wherever they wanted.

This chapter resonated strongly with my upbringing. I was fortunate to be born one year before Namibia’s independence. Still, I have learned all about the apartheid regime and the ensuing struggle for Namibia’s liberation from aunts and uncles who lived it. But what struck me the most was how Zenzele’s mother’s village life was similar to mine. It brings me back to the stark similarities I always note between life in Zimbabwe and Namibia—the culture, traditions, beliefs, etc.

I noted these by reading other Zimbabwean authors and books such as We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo and Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 begins by reminding Zenzele of her struggles with understanding their culture and its challenges. Not only was this chapter dedicated to unpacking those struggles, but it also touched on the difficulty of finding a partner because “almost everyone is related.” Mai Zenzele explained to her that: “The extended family is your community, your own emotional, financial, and cultural safety net. It is Africa’s most powerful resource.” (page 31)

This is so profound because often we forget our connections through Ubuntu. We are all connected in some way, we are one. This chapter blew me away. It explored culture through Zenzele’s challenges with cultural practices such as lobola, and broader themes like women’s identity and their place in society—who defines that, and why. Zenzele asked her mother a beautiful question: “Mama, what do you think it means to be an African woman?” (page 39). And her mother beautifully answered—a response so layered, so precious, that I will keep it for myself and recite it whenever I can – see pages 39-41. This chapter left me awestruck in a phenomenal way.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 broke my heart and had me weeping like a baby. She tells the heartbreaking tale of a cousin who went to London and lost his identity. Once the beacon of hope for his family, Mukoma Byron left and re-emerged years later, utterly lost and changed, breaking many of his family’s and villagers’ hearts. They had pooled together the little they had, wielding Ubuntu to send him off—their salvation to Britain. But Britain broke him and turned him into an unrecognisable caricature through and through. This chapter shows what being Black in Europe—or the West in general—can do to a person.

Chapter 5

In this chapter, Zenzele’s father recounts his time as a student in New York, where he participated in the advancement of African knowledge, Black Power, and resistance movements of that era. He is given much-needed encouragement and understanding about the importance of fighting for the dignity, image, identity, truth, and story of Africa—by Africans. Nozipo finishes the chapter with a powerful quote that Zenzele’s father often uses: “The scramble for Africa may be over, but the struggle for her history, her art, her literature, and her children rages on unabated” (page 79).

Chapter 6

In this chapter, she tells Zenzele about what it means to be Black in the Western world, specifically being Black in Europe. She recounts her travels with Zenzele’s father over the years and the treatment they received simply because they were Black. Her father said something very poignant that resonates deeply with me—and with any other Black person navigating the Western world: “As far as that lady was concerned, you are Black, and that means you are neither short, tall, funny, dull, fat, thin, pretty [wink], or ugly. To her color-blinded mind’s eye, your three dimensions are Black-by-Black-by-Black” (page 84).

This chapter offers a lot of advice and education on how racism manifests, how we ought to understand it, and—most importantly—how we must not start questioning or doubting ourselves because of it. Ultimately, those who are racist do not see us for who we are.

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven was a wonderful lesson on Pan-Africanism and on extending grace and understanding to Africans all over the world, especially those who are direct descendants of enslaved Africans in the Americas. It is also, in many ways, a beautiful tribute to those who dedicated their lives to the struggle for liberation across Africa.

Chapter 8

In Chapter 8, she narrates the story of her first love—the goodness she felt, and the defiance she showed regarding her parents’ acceptance of him. It’s a beautiful narration of a love that made one tremble, shake, and giggle at nothing. A beautiful story that, unfortunately, ended tragically. She also shares how she eventually met Zenzele’s father.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9 was a beautiful dedication to the women who fought for the liberation of Zimbabwe. This chapter reflects that these women were everyday women who did extraordinary things and took extraordinary risks—using wit and heart. I think it was an important lesson for Zenzele, who was already wearing her politics and feminism with pride.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10 was another profound one. In this chapter, Zenzele’s mother prompts her to think deeply about self-determination, fighting for freedom, and being autonomous, asking pertinent questions like: “Is that all there is?” (page 177). She shares powerful examples, including her cousin Rudo’s experience, her sister Linda’s freedom-fighting spirit, and her husband’s unwavering determination for the emancipation of the people.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11 reflected on their relationship with religion, stressing the importance of representation—seeing the image of Jesus, his disciples, angels, and so forth in ways that reflect who they are. The chapter raises important questions about identity, faith, and how visual imagery in religion shapes our sense of belonging.

Chapter 12

In Chapter 12, she reveals that she is ailing and begins reflecting on death, wondering whether we get to see our deceased loved ones again, or if we go anywhere at all when we die. The author signs off with a beautiful and powerful message [in the Kindle edition]:

“Be the change
Honor the Ancestors
Find joy
Go well,”

About the Author

Dr. J. Nozipo Maraire describes herself on LinkedIn as follows:

A full-time practising neurosurgeon, she has initiated neurosurgery programs in several institutions in Delaware, Ohio, and Oregon. She has travelled, been educated, and lived in many countries, including Jamaica, the United States, Canada, and Wales. She was selected to attend Atlantic College in Wales. She received her undergraduate degree from Harvard University and then attended the Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City. She completed her neurosurgery training at Yale School of Medicine. She was awarded a Clinical Fellowship Award by the Congress of Neurological Surgeons, which she used to work with Dr. Fred Epstein in paediatric neurosurgery in New York City.

She is also a public speaker who has been invited to lecture at colleges and universities across the world. Dr. Maraire has spoken to numerous book clubs and civic organisations, and has served on many literary panels—including as an invited guest of the Gotenburg Literary Festival. She has served on the board of directors of several organisations, including The Rotary Foundation, the Ross Ragland Theater, and the South North Development Institute.

Zenzele is the only novel Dr. Maraire has written. It was selected as a New York Times Notable Book of the Year in 1996 and became a Boston Globe bestseller. The novel has been published and translated into more than 14 languages.

Book Review and Reflection of Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

31 March 2025 /
Reading Time: 5 minutes

Published: 2025
Genre: Fiction
[Buy the Book Here]

Book cover of Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, featuring a stylised flame and teardrop design. The book is longlisted for the 2025 Women’s Prize for Fiction.
The stunning cover of Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie — a rich, emotionally layered novel about the lives of four women, longlisted for the 2025 Women’s Prize for Fiction.

Book Review & Reflection

Introduction

What is Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie about? The title Dream Count doesn’t give much away—I found myself trying to guess what the book might be about, but it remained a mystery until the very end when the meaning of “dream count” is finally mentioned.

At first, I thought Chimamanda was narrating her own story—especially as the opening pages explore a writer struggling to write. It felt intimate, reflective, and personal, almost like creative non-fiction. But as I read on, I was drawn into a rich narrative that traces the intertwined lives of four women. The diversity among these women is remarkable, and their stories are told with such tenderness and depth that I couldn’t help but be drawn into their world.

Their friendships, shared struggles, and experiences with love and heartbreak are endearing and relatable. Chimamanda’s storytelling shines from the very first page—her voice is unmistakable, and her command of character and detail is masterful. It’s no surprise that Dream Count quickly became a number-one bestseller and was longlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction as soon as the book was released.

Reading this novel felt like reading four books in one. Although the women’s lives are intimately connected, each has her own distinct voice and journey. Yet Chimamanda makes sure those links between them are always present, so the transitions never feel jarring. Instead, the novel flows like a beautiful symphony of voices—each part essential to the whole.

Book Summary

I have never felt such an urgent need to shake a book character out of a relationship as I did with Chiamaka (Chia)—whose story frames both the beginning and end of the book. Chiamaka stressed me tremendously as I read her story, but somehow, I also understood her. I wanted to shake her, pausing in disbelief at everything she was putting up with in that delusional, abusive relationship with Darnel. Chia is everything—she is a good person: kind, empathetic, rich, and beautiful. But Chimamanda was so real for this. So many women have had a Darnel in their lives at one point—I know I certainly did. That’s why I wanted to reach into the book and shake Chia out of that relationship.

Then I was so excited when she met Chuka. I thought, oh, thank goodness! What a man. But unfortunately, as life often goes, he just wasn’t the man for her. I was in utter shock—here was a good, well-intentioned, well-matched man, and yet… I understood her. Chiamaka’s journey with men is such an unfortunate familiarity.

Zikora was a pleasant surprise. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence that the character shared a name with Chimamanda’s 2020 short story Zikora—but as I continued reading, I was delighted to discover that it was indeed the same Zikora, just given a fuller, more layered narrative. I was convinced that Chimamanda would give us a more rounded ending to Zikora’s story. I hoped Kwame would return—if not for Zikora, then at least for their child. But Chimamanda left us hanging once again. Still, there’s room for expansion. Maybe this is her plan?

Then again, I’ve been waiting for a follow-up to Half of a Yellow Sun to find out what happened to the protagonist’s sister—and I’m still recovering from that. So maybe this is just it?

Part 3 belonged to Kadiatou, who was first introduced in Chiamaka’s story as her house girl. Her story begins in childhood, in her beloved village, where she experiences the untimely death of her father. Kadiatou grew up alongside Binda, her carefree sister who dreamed of better conditions through education. Kadiatou, however, couldn’t relate. She was happy in her village—and I really liked this about her. She loved her home, her country. Not everyone leaps at the chance to leave their homeland, and Kadiatou didn’t feel the need to. She was content with her simple life.

But as life went on, it did what it always does—scattering Kadiatou’s path with loss, heartbreak, and the inevitable moving-on that humans must navigate. When her childhood love, Amadou, suddenly reappears and takes her to America, I had a sinking feeling—especially when he explained how they were going to get there. Despite all that life throws at her—loss, violation, love—Kadiatou remains resilient, gentle, and full of love. Her story (at least part of it) is based on a real one, which makes it all the more moving.

Part 4 of the book is Omelogor’s story. What an interesting woman. All the women in this book are compelling and unique, but Omelogor has a particular kind of strength and individuality that stands out. Still living in Nigeria with a high-flying job, Omelogor, now 47, is plagued by the usual questions about marriage and children. In fact, her family—especially one particular aunt—is now trying to coax her into adopting a child.

But Omelogor doesn’t live in the shadow of other people’s expectations. She lives life on her own terms and has never been obsessed with the idea of marriage—an ideal that is often forced upon women in her culture. So much so that, for some, getting married (even if it ends in divorce) is seen as a kind of emancipation from the constant nagging of their communities.

Omelogor, however, is unbothered – or so she thought, as she did start questioning this. She shares her wealth and life generously with those she loves and uplifts women in her community in a Robin Hood kind of way. She’s absolutely striking. When I first read Kadiatou’s description of her, I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about her. But reading her own story shed so much more light—Omelogor is awesome.

The final parts of the book return to Chiamaka.


Reading about Chiamaka through the eyes of Zikora, Kadiatou, and Omelogor, she appears to be the glue that holds everyone together—the bright, cheerful one who spreads love wherever she goes. But reading her own story reveals how unsure she is of herself, how she bends and twists to fit the expectations of the men in her life. This made me feel somewhat sad for her. It’s clear that she still has a lot of work to do, especially in how she loves herself.

What I Loved

  • Honestly, everything—to be fair. But I’m still not at peace with Zikora’s story. I need to know what happened. Even if it’s just to hear that Kwame never returned, I want some closure.
  • I love how Chimamanda always portrays powerful women in different ways—through career success, emotional strength, and resilience. All four women in this book embody that power. Three are high-flying, wealthy Nigerian women, and one is a Guinean woman—strong in her faith and culture, a devoted wife and mother who, against all odds, makes a life for herself in America.

Concluding Remarks

I loved this book so much that I instantly started listening to it again as soon as I finished. What an incredible piece of work—though not surprisingly so. I’ve always loved Chimamanda’s writing, and this book is yet another testament to her brilliance. I highly recommend it to everyone.

About the Author

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is a renowned Nigerian writer and feminist known for her powerful storytelling on themes of identity, gender, race, and migration. Dream Count is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s much-anticipated 2025 novel, marking her return to fiction with a powerful, intimate, and layered narrative. Her notable works include Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, Americanah, and We Should All Be Feminists, based on her widely influential TED Talk. I have loved reading all these books, and I have equally loved: The Thing Around Your Neck; Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions and Notes on Grief.

She strongly advocates for African narratives, rejecting the “single story” of the continent, and has received numerous accolades, including the MacArthur “Genius” Grant and honorary degrees from top universities. Her work has shaped contemporary discussions on feminism, race, and postcolonialism, making her one of our time’s most influential literary voices. Chimamanda is one of my favourite authors; I have read all her works. She was instrumental in my feminist journey.

Zikora by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

12 March 2025 /
Reading Time: 2 minutes

Author: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Year of Publication: 2020
Available Formats: Kindle | Audible

👉 [BUY BOOK HERE]

Cover of Zikora by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, featuring
Official book cover of Zikora, a short story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Review & Summary

Zikora is a poignant short story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie that explores motherhood, love, abandonment, and family dynamics. Set in Washington, D.C., the story follows Zikora, a Nigerian woman practising law in DC and was now in labour with her first child, as she reflects on her past, her ice queen of a mother’s cold presence, and the absence of the man she loved—the father of her child—who abandoned her when she became pregnant despite their deep connection.

As she gives birth, Zikora re-examines her mother’s rigid ways, finding unexpected grace and understanding. Chimamanda Adichie’s storytelling is both intimate and thought-provoking, leaving readers yearning to know what happens next—does Kwame, the child’s father return? How does Zikora navigate life beyond the hospital?

Final Thoughts

If you’re looking for a quick yet deeply moving read, Zikora is perfect. Again, Chimamanda Adichie delivers a compelling narrative that lingers long after the last word.

💡 Highly recommended for fans of powerful, character-driven storytelling!

Read it in one sitting and prepare to be captivated!

About the Author: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is a renowned Nigerian writer known for her powerful storytelling and insightful explorations of identity, feminism, and postcolonial experiences. She is the author of critically acclaimed novels such as Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, and Americanah, as well as influential nonfiction works like We Should All Be Feminists. Adichie’s writing often delves into themes of race, migration, gender, and the complexities of human relationships, earning her numerous literary awards and global recognition. Her work has been translated into more than 50 languages, reaching readers worldwide.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has an official website where you can explore her works, upcoming events, and more: chimamanda.com​

She also maintains an active presence on social media platforms:​

The Purple Violet of Oshaantu by Neshani Andreas

25 February 2025 /
Reading Time: 4 minutes
The Purple Violet of Oshaantu book cover by Neshani Andreas - book review on African Queens' Ink.
Featured Review: The Purple Violet of Oshaantu by Neshani Andreas – A powerful novel about Namibian Aawambo women’s lives, friendship, and resilience.

Book Review

First published: 2001

Genre: Fiction
Notable quote: “Time is a wonderful thing. It is an ointment. It is a healer.” – Page 64

Click here to buy

Introduction

Have you ever read a book and felt like you were home? The Purple Violet of Oshaantu by Neshani Andreas did precisely that for me. I could not put it down. Every page transported me back home, filling me with nostalgia and warmth.

The novel is set in a fictional village based in Owamboland, where I am from, where the Ovawambo (not Ovambo, Ambo, Vambo, as we have often been mislabelled) of Namibia reside. Our tribe is divided into five mini-tribes, each speaking a different dialect, yet we share a deep cultural and traditional bond. From the very first chapter, Neshani Andreas’ descriptions of village life filled me with joy.

One scene that stood out to me was when the protagonist, Mee Ali, visits an elder for advice. The description of the traditional meal they shared was vivid and heartwarming. Having been in England for four years without returning home, this moment made me incredibly homesick.

Then, in Chapter Seven, Andreas writes about Mee Kauna, Mee Ali’s best friend, returning to her village. The traditional welcome she receives on page 77 felt deeply personal:

‘OMee Kauna,’ they cried out.
‘Ongaame,’ she responded to their cheerful welcoming.
‘OMee Kauna…’
‘Ongaame…’
‘Oye naanaa…’

Reading these lines, I was instantly transported home. Having lived in Windhoek, Namibia’s capital, for many years, I, too, was welcomed with the same warmth whenever I visited my village.

But enough reminiscence—let’s dive into the book!

Book Summary

In The Purple Violet of Oshaantu by Neshani Andreas, a sudden and unexplained death shakes the village of Oshaantu, exposing the deeply ingrained cultural injustices toward the deceased man’s wife and children. This tragedy also highlights an extraordinary friendship between two women: Mee Ali, the protagonist, who enjoys a happy marriage, and Mee Kauna, whose marriage is a living nightmare.

Through their stories, the novel explores themes of marriage, patriarchy, and the cultural norms that force women to endure mistreatment in silence. It delves into domestic abuse and the expectations placed upon women to accept suffering in marriage as a virtue. Despite these harsh realities, the book also weaves in acts of silent protest, resilience, and an underlying feminist spirit that lingers in the background.

Kauna, whose abusive husband dies suddenly, makes a powerful statement by refusing to mourn him. She does not shed a tear, and when pressured to give the traditional widow’s speech at his funeral, she declines. To me, this was an act of resistance—a political statement against the suffering she had endured for so long.

But what will happen to Kauna and her children after the funeral? Will her husband’s relatives, like vultures, strip them of everything, or will they show compassion? You’ll have to read the book to find out.

Writing Style and Themes

The novel is beautifully written and highly accessible. Andreas’ storytelling is gripping, with moments of unexpected humour and deep emotion. The plot twists and turns in all the right places, keeping the reader engaged from start to finish.

One of the book’s greatest strengths is its rich depiction of village life, enhanced by the infusion of Oshiwambo terms. This linguistic authenticity makes the story even more powerful and relatable.

What I Loved

  • The seamless blending of English and Oshiwambo made the story feel more genuine and immersive.
  • The feminist undertones—while the society in the novel is patriarchal, it is clear that women are the backbone of the community. With men working in mines for long periods, the women run the village.
  • The portrayal of female friendship and solidarity. Despite societal pressures, the women in the story support and uplift one another.

What I Wanted More of

  • I wanted to know more about Mee Ali’s own life. Since she narrates Kauna’s story, we don’t see much of her personal experiences. A deeper look into her own journey would have added another layer of richness to the novel.

Recommendation

I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone over the age of 18. Reading and reviewing was an immense pleasure, and I loved every moment of it.

About the Author: Neshani Andreas

Neshani Andreas was a Namibian writer and the first (and so far, only) Namibian author to be included in the Heinemann African Writers Series. Her debut novel, The Purple Violet of Oshaantu, was inspired by her own lived experiences. She trained as a teacher and worked in a village school, which profoundly influenced her writing. Later, she worked for the U.S. Peace Corps in Namibia for four years before joining the Forum of African Women Educationalists in Namibia (FAWENA). Sadly, Neshani Andreas passed away at the age of 46 from lung cancer, leaving behind a literary legacy that continues to inspire. May her soul continue resting in eternal peace.

This book reminded me of the sisterhood and strength I saw in Dream Count — another story where sisterhood is both sanctuary and resistance.

Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite

20 February 2025 /
Reading Time: 2 minutes

Author: Oyinkan Braithwaite
Release Date: 2020 (Hush Collection)

Formats Available: Kindle (free on unlimited), Audible (£1.99)

Genre: Dark Fiction
Setting: Lagos, Nigeria

Get book here

BOOK REVIEW

Summary

Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite follows the story of an aspiring Instagram influencer, Treasure, who carefully curates a glamorous online persona—one far removed from her actual life. She borrows her wealthy employer’s belongings to maintain the illusion, as she works in an affluent estate in Lagos, hoping to grow her follower count and eventually monetise her presence on social media. Her life takes a dark turn when she crosses online paths with @Sho4Sure, a man who must be struggling with mental health issues because there are no other plausible explanations for what follows next. A shocking and tragic incident unfolds, altering the course of Treasure’s carefully constructed world. The story is divided into 11 short sections, each adding to the suspense and intrigue.

What I Loved

This was a fast-paced and gripping read, easily completed in one sitting. The plot twists were unexpected and left me stunned—I had to reread the last two sections just to process what had happened. The escalation of events was both intense and masterfully executed.

What I Wanted More Of

The ending left me with lingering questions. Did Treasure remain in that house? Did she lose her job? Was she able to achieve her dream of Instagram fame? And what about @Sho4Sure? Did he continue his plans with Treasure? Also, what became of Sammy? I found myself craving more closure.

Recommendation

Treasure is a dark and thought-provoking short story. If you enjoy fast-paced narratives with unexpected turns, this one is definitely worth your time.

reasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite book cover – book review on African Queens' Ink, celebrating the words of African women.
Review of Treasure by Oyinkan Braithwaite – A gripping, dark short story exploring themes of social media, survival and ambition.

About the Author

Oyinkan Braithwaite is a Nigerian-British writer best known for her debut novel, My Sister, the Serial Killer (2018). Born in Lagos, Nigeria, she spent part of her childhood in Nigeria and the UK. She studied Creative Writing and Law at Kingston University in London before building a career as a writer and editor. Before her breakthrough novel, Braithwaite contributed to Nigerian publications as a journalist, illustrator, and editor. To explore more of her work, visit her Linktree

African Women Writing

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The Visit by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

16 January 2025 /
Reading Time: 2 minutes
Book cover of The Visit by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a short story reversing gender roles to challenge patriarchy.
Cover of The Visit, a 2021 short story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie that flips the script on gender and power.

Book Details


Year Published: 2021
Available Formats: Kindle (£0.00), Audible (£1.74)
Buy Book HERE

Book Review

When I first started reading The Visit, I was a little confused. Like most books I read, I went in blind—no previews, no reviews—just an open mind. But within a few pages, I realized what was happening, and I absolutely loved it!

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie flips the script in this thought-provoking short story. The Visit follows Obina, a house husband with a successful wife, as he receives a visit from an old friend who now lives in America. Obina is unemployed, staying at home to care for their children while his wife works long hours, often away with vague work-related excuses.

But here’s the twist—women rule the world. They hold positions of power, dictate societal norms, and push forward agendas that concern them. Adichie masterfully inverts gender roles, highlighting the everyday realities of patriarchy by making men experience what women often go through. One of my favourite details? The award women receive for “contributing to the human race” when they give birth—pure gold!

This short story is sharp, insightful, and delightfully subversive. It challenges conventional gender dynamics in an entertaining and profoundly reflective way. Another brilliant piece from Chimamanda that left me thinking long after I finished it!

About the Author: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is a renowned Nigerian writer and feminist known for her powerful storytelling on themes of identity, gender, race, and migration. Her notable works include Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, Americanah, and We Should All Be Feminists, based on her widely influential TED Talk.

I have loved reading all these books, and I have equally loved: The Thing Around Your Neck, Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions, and Notes on Grief. I am looking forward to reading her new offering, due to be released in March 2025: Dream Count. Most of Chimamanda’s books are accessible and affordable, especially on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.

She strongly advocates for African narratives, rejecting the “single story” of the continent, and has received numerous accolades, including the MacArthur “Genius” Grant and honorary degrees from top universities. Her work has shaped contemporary discussions on feminism, race, and postcolonialism, making her one of our time’s most influential literary voices. Chimamanda is one of my favourite authors; I have read all her works. She was instrumental in my feminist journey.

Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

15 January 2025 /
Reading Time: 3 minutes
Book cover of Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, featuring a floral design and bold typography. A powerful coming-of-age novel set in Nigeria.
Cover of Purple Hibiscus, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s award-winning debut novel exploring family, faith, silence, and resistance in postcolonial Nigeria.

First Published in 2003
Available formats: Audible (included in membership), paperback, hardback, Kindle Unlimited
Buy book HERE

Book Review and Reflection

Purple Hibiscus is not based on actual events, but reading it gives the impression that it could be. In this debut novel, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie delivers a profoundly intersectional and complex story of family life, domestic abuse, religion, self-discovery, and the consequences of political unrest and failing governments.

Spanning 17 chapters, the story follows Kambili, a 15-year-old girl raised by a wealthy, abusive, religious fundamentalist father. Kambili lives with her older brother, Jaja, her resigned mother, and her domineering father, whom she calls Papa. Kambili struggles to find her voice and sense of self in the shadow of Papa, who rules their home with an iron fist. He sets rigid schedules for the family, demanding academic excellence and strict adherence to Christianity. Even minor deviations are punished with violence.

Throughout the book, Kambili’s internal conflict revolves around self-discovery and asserting her voice. She is caught in a cycle of pleasing her father, constantly second-guessing herself, and yearning for approval. Her home is devoid of happiness; laughter is a foreign concept, and fear looms continuously.

Papa, educated by missionaries, has abandoned his Igbo heritage. He estranges himself from his father, Papa-Nnukwu, for refusing to convert to Catholicism, condemning him as a pagan. This estrangement prevents Kambili and Jaja from forming a meaningful relationship with their grandfather. Despite his oppressive behaviour, Papa is highly respected in his community and revered for his business successes and philanthropic contributions.

In contrast, Papa’s sister, Aunty Ifeoma, is vibrant, strong, intelligent, and kind. Although she shares a similar educational background, she embraces her roots and provides a stark contrast to her brother. Living in Nsukka, where she works as a lecturer at the University of Nigeria, Aunty Ifeoma invites Kambili and Jaja into her home. Despite financial struggles, a delayed salary, and scarcity of essentials like fuel and food, her home exudes warmth and resilience.

Aunty Ifeoma introduces laughter, freedom, and a new perspective to Kambili and Jaja’s lives. Her influence inspires a spirit of resistance in them and exposes them to the possibility of a life beyond Papa’s control. She saves them in many ways, giving them the strength to envision a different future.

Kambili’s world changes dramatically when an unexpected event shatters her nuclear family, bringing immense sacrifice and a newfound sense of freedom. The transformation of her mother, initially passive, into an unexpected heroine or villain, depending on how one looks at it, reflects themes of battered woman syndrome and personal liberation.

While Purple Hibiscus is a compelling read, as is characteristic of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s works, the ending felt rushed. Chapters 16 and 17 bring the narrative to an abrupt halt, leaving many questions unanswered. A book of this depth could have benefited from a more thorough conclusion. Additionally, Papa’s character would have been richer, with more background details about his time with the missionaries and the experiences that shaped him.

Unfortunately, the Audible narration also let the audiobook down. The narrator struggled with pronunciation, and her accent lacked the authenticity needed to bring the story to life, detracting from the overall experience. Due to this, I struggled to get into the book right away, and thus, it took me longer to finish it.

That said, I would still wholeheartedly recommend this incredible book, but I suggest opting for the physical copy rather than the audiobook to appreciate the depth and beauty of the story fully.

About the Author

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is a renowned Nigerian writer and feminist known for her powerful storytelling on themes of identity, gender, race, and migration. Dream Count is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s recent and much-anticipated 2025 novel, marking her return to fiction with a powerful, intimate, and layered narrative. Her other notable works include Half of a Yellow Sun, Americanah, and We Should All Be Feminists, based on her widely influential TED Talk. I have loved reading all these books, and I have equally loved: The Thing Around Your Neck; Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions and Notes on Grief.

She strongly advocates for African narratives, rejecting the “single story” of the continent, and has received numerous accolades, including the MacArthur “Genius” Grant and honorary degrees from top universities. Her work has shaped contemporary discussions on feminism, race, and postcolonialism, making her one of our time’s most influential literary voices. Chimamanda is one of my favourite authors; I have read all her works. She was instrumental in my feminist journey.

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