The Baby Is Mine is a short story set in Lagos, Nigeria, during the COVID-19 lockdown. It follows an entanglement that Bambi, a young man thrown out by his girlfriend, happened upon, between his late uncle’s wife and his late uncle’s mistress, who were, strangely, isolating together in the same house.
Book Summary
Bambi was living well, being taken care of by his latest woman during the lockdown in Lagos. That was until she found incriminating evidence of cheating on his phone and kicked him out in the middle of the night.
What was he to do? Where was he to go?
He decided to go to his late uncle’s house, knowing there was always a space for him there. But what he found was unexpected: his aunty Bidemi was sharing the house with his uncle’s mistress and the baby.
The baby, as the title suggests, became the mystery. Whose baby was it? Was it Aunty Bidemi’s or someone else’s?
Bambi suddenly found himself playing the role of peacekeeper between the two women, who one day, seemingly out of the blue, started fighting over the maternity of the child. In the wake of the maternity dispute, there were worrying happenings around the house, including tribal scores on the baby’s face. As tensions grew, the baby’s safety came into question, and Bambi took it upon himself to be his protector.
Whose baby is it really? And was peace ever restored?
Grab your copy to find out.
Recommendations
I read this book because I love Oyinkan Braithwaite’s work. Having read Treasure and My Sister, the Serial Killer, and excitedly anticipating Cursed Daughters, due for release in September 2025, I wanted to add The Baby Is Mine to my Oyinkan collection.
However, I have to say, I struggled to finish this one, even though it’s a short story. Oyinkan’s usual humour and touch of darkness were there for sure, but I didn’t enjoy this story as much as I had anticipated.
As is typical of short stories, it left me wanting more, but that’s a characteristic of the genre, not a flaw of the author.
My rating: 3 out of 5 stars. I just couldn’t connect with it. But if you’re looking for a quick read and a few laughs, this one might be for you.
In preparation for Oyinkan Braithwaite’s follow-up book, Cursed Daughters (due for release in September 2025), to My Sister, the Serial Killer, I have decided to re-read My Sister, the Serial Killer and write a review about it this time. I’m glad I did, because it not only gave me a chance to reflect on it again, but also really looking forward to the new book as I was left wanting more of the story. Cursed Daughters seems to promise the “more” I’ve been seeking.
Book Summary
My Sister, the Serial Killer is Oyinkan Braithwaite’s debut novel, and it is as gripping as it is humorous. It follows Korede, a young, hard-working nurse whose life revolves around her job and her younger sister, Ayoola. Korede is Ayoola’s keeper. She does almost everything for her, including cleaning up bloodied messes and disposing of bodies with other evidence for Ayoola. Ayoola is stunningly beautiful, adored by everyone, and lives a carefree, spoiled existence in a world where people are instantly drawn to her. But Ayoola has a penchant for blood, and Korede is always at her beck and call to cover up for her, reason with her, and rescue her.
Korede and Ayoola’s relationship is one of wonder. Korede is the put-together one, the career woman and, in all aspects, the “good” daughter. But she exists in Ayoola’s shadow, even in her home, because she is not seen as “beautiful” on the outside or as enchanting as Ayoola. Their relationship is uncanny: Korede feels duty-bound to protect Ayoola no matter what. And it’s curious how everyone else seems to feel the same, enchanted by Ayoola’s beauty and drawn to her the moment they meet her.
Korede doesn’t have friends but finds an unlikely person to confide in, someone whose circumstances change drastically, leaving Korede and Ayoola in a precarious position. As much as I enjoyed reading about Korede and Ayoola’s home life, I also loved the hospital scenes, the characters, and their shenanigans.
Recommendaion
Oyinkan’s writing is brilliant; she writes about dark events in a humorous way that lightens things just a little. I recommend this book to every dark fiction enthusiast and readers in general, as it touches on various themes: unreciprocated love, desire, enchantment, workplace drama, murder, and more.
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.
Reading Time: 4minutesThe 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.
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.
Reading Time: 3minutesCover 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.
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.
