In places where officials would rather not have things written down, fiction stands in as a witness. It gives names to what’s usually left unspoken.

Africa is a vast continent, not a single country. The old habit of treating the whole continent as a single cultural monolith creeps in, even when the intention is celebration.

And perhaps one day, a girl’s first encounter with patriarchy will not come in a wrapper and gele. Hopefully, it will not come at all.

We didn’t just read books. We grew up inside them. And every now and then, when we open one again, we recognise ourselves right where we left off.

If everyone minded their business, sadly, many Nigerian novels would end by chapter three. Peace, unfortunately, does not move the plot.

This concerns gender as representation, role, and social meaning, and how societies organised people prior to colonial disruption. 

Contemporary African literature distinguishes itself by reclaiming both the right to tell African stories and to define their terms.

In the end, Parlour Wife is not without merit. It’s readable, even engaging at points, but its flaws hold it back from being truly memorable.

At the heart of it, An Unusual Grief is about survival, not the neat, inspirational kind, but the messy kind that doesn’t always make sense.

Attah delivers, page after immersive page. I couldn’t put it down. The Hundred Wells of Salaga is the kind of book you swallow in one gulp.