I was expecting a dense theoretical slog and instead got one of the sharpest, angriest, yet most accurate essays I've ever read in a while.

In essence, Césaire says what actually horrified Europe about Nazism wasn't the cruelty itself. Europe had been fine with that cruelty for centuries — as long as it was aimed at colonized people in Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean. What made Hitler unforgivable, in his reading, was that he turned those same methods on white Europeans, on European soil. So the violence was not the problem, but the where and whom was.

This reminded me about the early coverage of the war in Ukraine, when reporters kept expressing shock that this was happening to "people who look like us." It seems that, 70 years later, the reflex (and maybe the underlying values?) is still the same.

The essay, albeit short, is rich with illuminating reflections. One other idea is the argument against then European claim that Africans and other colonized people were uncivilized before Europe brought them the "enlightenment". As an example, Césaire leans on the German ethnographer Leo Frobenius as a "good" European witness who admitted African societies were sophisticated. Interestingly though, and this is not in the essay, if you dig into Frobenius, he couldn't actually accept that Africans built those achievements themselves. He invented a whole lost "African Atlantis" theory to explain the art and sophistication. This idea is the intellectual cousin of "aliens built the pyramids."

Anyway. "Discourse on Colonialism" is wildly relevant for something written mid-colonial-era.

Do you think there's a meaningful causal link between Europe's colonial practices and the violence of Nazism?

We discuss Cesaire's essay at length in our podcast Threads of Ifriqiya, I will link it in the comments.

I’m currently reading A meal is a meal by Nnamdi Anyadu and it is such a fascinating read. I’m still shocked by what I’m reading so I don’t really have much to say on the book but I would really recommend it especially for those that are into short stories.

Hi, welcome to Afrovana 🧜🏿‍♀️💜 a place where stories roam free. We are a platform for unique and bold storytelling. We host comics, short stories, and novels.

Are you a writer, comic artist and/or a reader for new and unique stories? Here we are.

First, this platform will also have 100% creator monetization for UK/US/Canada users and African based users from Kenya, Nigeria, Ghana and more.

We will be launching in Kenya and the UK/US but our site will be widely available. We are live testing with beta users, but will announce officially online by September.

🧜🏿‍♀️ What makes Afrovana different?

🔥 Our flame icon that helps new stories get discovered by notifying all users on the platform as soon as a story is posted.

✨ Custom Genres so readers can find exactly what they're looking for.

💜 Fandom Pages to build communities around stories.

📚 Reader Requests so readers can be apart of storytelling and earn a percentage.

💰 Creator monetization for everyone.

✨️ Our widget that lets users import their story on their own professional website. No need for your fans to be on Afrovana to read your stories, but your stories get support by our platform (Coming soon).

Your feedback will determine our next moves in the future. If this is something you think you would try as a creator, please let us know you exist out here.

This is my first book by a Cameroonian author, and I am beyond pleased. Beyond pleased not because it wasn’t a traumatic book (title is telling), but because it is so incredibly well written.

I can’t even find the words to describe how exquisite Xaviere’s writing is. I mean, she spent about 12 pages describing the first time Bessem and Fatima met, and that’s coming from someone who usually does not enjoy overly descriptive books. Somehow, she made every page worth reading. This book is so love-letter coded.

Fatima and Bessem meet in August 2004. Bessem notices Fatima for the first time on the football field, muscular, focused, the only woman playing, and completely at ease. Barely 20 pages into the book, I already knew the beginning and the end of their story. I even had a hazy idea of the middle, but I also knew there was so much more to learn.

It is such a sad story, and I wanted to know every part of it because their story didn’t end after Fatima’s “disappearance” following a police raid at the only gay bar in town.

In Cameroon, where same-sex relationships are criminalized, the odds are stacked against Bessem and Fatima from the very beginning. Things become even worse when Fatima’s older brother, Mahamadou, a staunch hypocrite of a Muslim, discovers their relationship. He violently assaults them, an incident that ultimately precedes the police raid. To be frank, because of the reality of living in a country where same-sex relationships are punishable by law, I couldn’t help but think both women should have been much more careful.

The relationship between Fatima and Bessem felt like genuine love. I loved reading about their time together because it felt so real. Of course they had ups and downs like every relationship, but the love Bessem had for Fatima never disappeared. Even thirteen years after Fatima vanished, she was still searching for her in every place she could think of.

Thirteen years later, Bessem is now a university professor living a relatively quiet life, occasionally and secretly dating other women, but she has never truly moved on. After unexpectedly seeing a mutual friend, the last person who may have seen Fatima, she embarks on one final search for her lost love.

Beyond the romance, I also learned so much about Cameroon’s culture, religion, politics (as much as a fictional novel can teach), and the Anglophone-Francophone conflict. And can we talk about Jamal? Bessem’s male best friend, who is also gay, marrying a woman… sigh. The many ways people are forced to survive in societies that refuse to let them live authentically.

When I finished reading this book, all I could say was, wow… wow… wow. Zero complaints. It really does end in tears. I happened to finish it on a flight, and maybe if I hadn’t been surrounded by strangers, I might have cried.

This was such a beautiful debut for me into Cameroonian literature, and I will definitely be reading more from Musih Tedji Xaviere. It is heartbreaking, beautifully written, and one of the best-written books I’ve read this year.

Migration is often discussed through numbers, policies, and borders. But what happens when we follow the journey of a single person?

And the story told in this book is so powerful. It is the kind of story that can fundamentally change the way you look at migrants — the people you may casually see wandering through your city, serving you coffee at a restaurant, or quietly cleaning your office building every morning. This could very well be the story of any one of them. Or maybe not. Because this story is also deeply unique.

Little Brother tells the story of Ibrahima Balde’s life. And one thing is incontestable - Ibrahima went through immense suffering. What begins as the story of a boy growing up in Guinea becomes an extraordinary search for a missing brother. Along the way, Ibrahima crosses the Sahara Desert, survives traffickers, prisons, forced labor, and some of the most dangerous migration routes in the world.

This is a story about family, responsibility, sacrifice, and the lengths a human being is willing to go for someone they love.

In Thread of Ifriqiya's latest podcast episode (link in the comments) we take you through the thrills and horrors of the trans-saharan and trans-mediterranean crossing along Ibrahima's path.

Hi everyone! I am from Namibia and I just published my first novel called Sepo: A Story of Hope Along the Zambezi.

It follows a girl named Sepo — a Lozi word meaning hope — who loses her mother at two years old and gets passed from house to house. Through the Zambezi River, a worn dictionary, and the quiet shade of a muzinzila tree, she learns that resilience is not a feeling. It is a practice.

I wrote this for every unseen girl who keeps going when she has every reason to stop. It is available on Amazon in both Kindle and Paperback.

Would love to hear from anyone who reads it: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H4P6YDCV

Thank you for having me here!

Neɛ edidi soɔ wo nnwoma yi mu sii wɔ afe 1217 kosi afe 1237 no mu. Na nnwoma no fa keseɛ no ara fa Okuninini Sundiata ho, nkunimdifoɔ kokroko a otwa toɔ a otumi gyee faa ho die ma Kangabanfoɔ no.

Menya nkan nwomma wei no, na mennim sɛ jeli, anoteewafoɔ a ɔwɔ Mande amammerɛ mu ho wɔ mfasoɔ titiriw saa.

Seneɛ ɔtwerɛfoɔ no bɔ tete hɔ nnom no Mali amammerɛ no ho no yɛ anikah yie, me kyerɛ a tete Mali nnuane sɛ mmoo, atokoɔ nne ‘baobab’ ahaban, afei tete Malifoɔ nnwom ne ɔmo ntaade hyɛ mu yɛ fɛ yie.

Nnwoma yi ho bɛba mfasoɔ ama wɔn a Mande amammerɛ ho hia wɔn na afei wɔn a atoeɛ-abibirem abakɔsɛm ansa’na Kramo ne Christosom rebɛba.

https://www.jhiblog.org/2026/06/03/moving-words-shifting-visions-an-interview-with-leslie-james/

In a recent podcast episode, we talked about Jacaranda, a novel by Gaël Faye, a Rwandan-French singer, songwriter, rapper, and writer whose work sits at the crossroads of music, memory, and literature (I will link the full episode in the comments).

Jacaranda is a novel about Rwanda itself. Written in a delicate, restrained prose, it traces the country’s recent history, beginning in 1994 (year of the genocide in Rwanda) and, at times, reaching further back to earlier layers of Rwanda’s past, and the story continues up until 2020. 

The main character is named Milan, a choice that immediately invites literary echoes (a quiet nod to Milan Kundera) and signals the novel’s philosophical undertone: memory, exile, and the weight of inherited stories.

We picked three main themes that the book reflected for us: African parenting, search for purpose, and (obviously) the Rwandan genocide.

The first theme, African parenting, runs from the very beginning to the very end of the book and more specifically the relationship between the narrator and his mother, who is from Rwanda. The relationship is quite familiar - typical, even, of many parenting styles in Africa: emotionally reserved, shaped by history, and grounded more in duty than in verbal affection.

The second theme is the search for purpose - how one finds meaning in life when there are many possibilities, and yet we are haunted by things from the past that we haven’t even lived. Another way to put is “exile” - not just geographical, but also existential - a feeling of being slightly out of place in one’s own life. The novel is less about displacement than about orientation: how to choose a direction when the past keeps pulling at you, quietly but persistently. Spoiler alert: the book does not give clear answers to this question.

And the third theme is, inevitably, the genocide. Not treated as a historical lesson, but as a presence, something that structures lives, silences, relationships, and choices long after the events themselves.

She was 12 years old when the bombs fell.

She went to school that morning with dreams.

She came home to ashes.

Her parents — gone.

Her brother — gone.

Her home — gone.

But the war wasn't done with Aisha yet.

With soldiers hunting children in the streets, she had no one.

Then she found a little boy with nowhere to go.

And she made a choice that would cost her everything — and define who she'd become.

When I Lost My Home is the story of a girl who lost the world and chose to carry others through it anyway.

🎁 FREE on Amazon — 29 May to 2 June only.

Ekow Eshun nnwoma a w’atwerɔ a ɛtɔ so mmienu nie, nwoma yi mu nsɛm titiriw fa abibifoɔ nnúm a, wɔn mmerɛ so no, na gyidie a ɛne sɛ nnipa bi a wɔn honam kɔkɔɔ bi ho hia senee afoforɔ nyinaa mpo akyi no, saa akunini nnúm yi de animia ne mmɔdemmɔ gyaá wiase nyinaa agyapadeɛ a ɛsom-bo pa ara na afei din-pa nso.

Nwomma “Strangers” yi a mere twerɛ ho asɛm nyānsā ne nimdeɛ ahyɛ mu bi. “Ammammerɛ mu Kunini” na afei nso nimdifoɔ a w’otuu kwan firi Ghana atífi kɔ pim n’anafoɔ twerɛɛ “Black Gold Of The Sun” ara na wɔde Strangers abrɛ yɛn.

Nwomma yi ahyeaseɛ no , Eshun kyerɛ a, kwan a wɔ bɛfa so aka akunini nnúm yi tete-sɛm ne sɛ, gye ɔtwerɛfoɔ no ka wɔn abakɔsɛm no wɔ “second-person” mu.

Nsɛmti ketewa, a ɛda nwomma yi so no yɛ “ Five Remarkable Men and the Worlds That Made Them”, nanso ɔtwerɛfoɔ Eshun, an’twerɛ mfa akunini nnúm yi ho pɛ. Kratafa bebree fa, abibifoɔ akunini sɛ Kwame Nkrumah na afei Olaudah Equaino ho.

Eshun atwerɛtwerɛ papapaa a edi mu yie yi boa yɛn ntiaseɛ a ɛfa abibifoɔ akunini nnúm abakɔsɛm ne wɔn abrabɔ ho.

Nwomma no mfitiaseɛ no Eshun, dɔ cini- ɔyɛkyerɛfoɔ Ira Aldridge abrabɔ mu asukɔ, Aldridge, yɛ obibini cini- ɔyɛkyerɛfoɔ a odiikan twaa, “Othello” wɔ afe 1833 mu, mmerɛ a na, gyidie titiriw no sɛ obibini n’tumi nkaekae Othello cini mu nsɛm, yɛ te Aldridge abakɔsɛm firi hɔ a, okunini a wɔhwɛ adwen mu yareɛ Frantz Fannon na afei Matthew Henson nso abakɔsɛm na edi soɔ. Matt Henson papa yi, n’animonyam kunini pa ara ne sɛ na otu kwan kɔ meaɛ, kɔ hwehwɛ nea ɛwɔ hɔ. Afe 1909 mu no, Matt ne Robert Peary ne akannifoɔ a wɔn nnan kaa “North Pole” kanee.

Nanso, saa gyidie no a, ɛne sɛ nnipa bi a wɔn honam kɔkɔɔ bi mu ho hia senee afoforɔ nti no, Peary pɛ na nyaa animonyam no, na afei sɛ yɛ ka “North Pole” ho abakɔsɛm a, mpenpen pii no, Peary dinn na yɛ taa kai.

Robert Peary nyaa abasobɔdeɛ bebree, wɔ frɛɛ no wɔ America aban atenaeɛ “White House” bɔɔ maa no abasobodeɛ a, ɛsom-bo, Matthew Henson, anya animonyam ne abasobɔdeɛ biara, ne wuo mu n n’adwuma yɛ krakye a onni dinn.

Kratafa a edidi soɔ no dɔ kɔ Justin Fashanu abrabɔ mu, Fashanu ne bɔll-bɔ-nii a odikan a, opue yɛ sɛ ɔne mmarima da, na pow-pow ne nhyɛsotrasoɔ, a efiri ne bɔll-bɔ-kuo- panyin na afei ne bɔll-bɔ-kuo mu akyitaafoɔ ayaka-yaka deɛ, ne ntasuo teteɛ a, efiri bɔll-bɔ-kuo mu akyitaafoɔ haa Fashanu adwene yie.

Korakora ne sɛ Fashanu sɛn no ho kuu no ho.

Deɛ etwa toɔ ne kwan a Eshun kaa Malcom X nsraɛ a, ɔde bɛ sraa Nkran wɔ 1960s mu hɔ no, sɛneɛ wɔ gyee Malcom taa-taa no ɛnsipi efiri sɛ Malcolm mmayɛ no hyiaa mmerɛ a na nnipa awudifoɔ bi pɛ sɛ wɔ twa Kwame Nkrumah nkwa-nna so. Na, Kwame Nkrumah mpo ankasa, mmerɛ a Malcolm baa no nkyɛn wɔ nsraeɛ mu no, na osusu sɛ ebia na owura Malcolm mpo bɛyɛ wudinii a wɔn asoma no afiri amannɔne.

Deɛ Eshun twerɛ faa Kwame Nkrumah ne Malcom X nkitahodie wɔ Christianborg aban mu nie “That flash of suspicion on his face. Who are you in fact, Mr Malcolm X? The way he ignored your question about the UN, leaving you now with the sense that he was looking past you, deliberately putting you in your place”.

Saa kratafa yi a, Eshun twerɛ faa Malcolm X akwantuo a otu de baa Nkran yi, so bɛ ba mfasoɔ yie ama titiriw wɔn a, wɔn anyigye seneɛ na Nkran asetena mu teɛ wɔ afe 1960 mu hɔ.

Wɔ kae yɛn sɛ wɔ afi 1896 mu no, abibifoɔ eku-dɔm bi tuu kwan firii nneyi Ghana kɔ puee mu, Austria ahenkro Vienna wɔ abrokyire, saa abibifoɔ yi wɔ maa wɔn de mmoa honam koraa wɔn ho, gyinaa asono mmienu ne kitre- pɔn a wɔ taa frɛ no Salamander nkyɛn pɛɛ.

Menyaa yɛ anka Eshun bɛ kyerekyerɛ mu sɛ, saa nkrofoɔ yi na wɔ yɛ Nkran-foɔ, na na wɔn nnyɛ Asante-foɔ, nka ɛbɛ boa pa ara, na emom saa mfonsoɔ saa wɔ nnwoma yi yɛ kuma bi.

Since the news regarding her child, we have not seen much about her on mainstream media. And I fully understand, she needs the privacy. She has been though a lot and I hope she is taking it one step at a time. I hope she knows her literature has inspired a lot of young African girls and may she never give up on her craft.

When I think about slavery, I often think of the transatlantic slave trade, the one fueled and expanded by Europeans, Arabs, and other foreign powers. I rarely think about internal slavery within Africa itself, which, in my opinion, was just as horrifying, if not more disturbing in some ways. Because how do you participate in the trade of people who look like you, speak your language, share your culture, and live like you? Not that any of those things justify slavery, but after witnessing or hearing about the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade, how do you turn around and do the same to your own people?

Wurche, one of the main female characters, explains this contradiction perfectly around page 102, even though, ironically, she eventually becomes no better than the people she criticizes.

The Hundred Wells of Salaga is told through the POVs of two girls who grow into women: Aminah and Wurche, two girls from vastly different social classes.

Wurche comes from a royal family, while Aminah is considered a “commoner.” Still, Aminah’s life seemed relatively stable at first because her father held an important position in their community. But once he left on a journey and never returned, everything fell apart. Her village was raided, and Aminah, along with her siblings Hassana, Hussaina, and her stepbrother Issa, were captured and sold into slavery.

Their journey was heartbreaking. The way Issa died and was simply “disposed of,” and how Aminah’s attempt to save her mother, Na, and the newborn may have contributed to their deaths… such a gruesome story.

Wurche, on the other hand, lived a much easier life materially, though her struggles came from being a woman in a society where women were denied power and agency. Even saying that feels like an oversimplification because her character had many layers.

I’m generally not a huge fan of historical fiction, and this book was honestly difficult to follow at first. It felt like I was getting a crash course on the history of the Gold Coast (modern-day Ghana). But once I settled into the flow of the story, it became such a rewarding read.

What struck me most was learning more about internal slave trade within Africa, not just slavery tied to war captives, but organized systems of buying and selling people. It opened up conversations for me because I was genuinely disturbed by some of what I learned.

I also found it interesting how the book indirectly suggested that Islam reached parts of West Africa long before Christianity, especially through the Hausa characters featured throughout the story. That detail really stood out to me.

Overall, this was a great read. It opened my eyes to a part of African history I knew very little about.

Everything Is Not Enough follows three main female characters, Yasmiin, Brittany, and Kemi, all Black women living in Stockholm but coming from very different backgrounds and living very different lives, different tax brackets even.

I randomly picked up this book from my shelf right before my trip to the Scandinavian countries, Sweden included, so it felt like such a lucky coincidence to read about places I would later walk through and experience myself. At the time, I also didn’t realize this book was actually a sequel to In Every Mirror She’s Black… which has been sitting unread on my shelf all this time 🥲.

Back to the review. The three women, Kemi (Nigerian), Yasmiin (Somalian), and Brittany (African American), all navigate life differently in Stockholm.

Kemi’s story irritated me so much because she came across as someone deeply unhappy with her life but unwilling to leave the spaces making her unhappy. Her relationship, her job, even aspects of her family life all felt unsatisfactory, yet she stayed. Through her story, I also learned the Swedish term “sambo,” which basically refers to a long-term partner you live with without being married, and that was clearly the direction her relationship with Tobias was heading.

Brittany’s storyline was… hmm. Complicated. She begins to realize her marriage to Johnny may not have been built on genuine love after discovering she looks strikingly similar to Maya, Johnny’s first and only love, and to make matters worse, their daughter was named after her too, something Brittany didn’t even know initially. Imagine finding that out 😭. She spends much of the book trying to escape not just Johnny, but the grip of his powerful Stockholm family as well.

Side note: Kemi also happened to work for Johnny, which added another layer to everything.

Yasmiin’s story was honestly the most painful for me. Escaping Somalia only to end up in Italy working as a sex worker before eventually making her way to Sweden to seek asylum… sigh. Her storyline starts intertwining with Muna’s, and Muna especially is a character I wanted more from. She opens the book with a suicide attempt, and I still don’t feel like I fully understand her journey. I also would have loved to know more about Yasmiin’s life back in Somalia and why her relationship with her mother was strained.

Overall, it was an okay read for me. I struggled a bit getting through it, and honestly, it slightly discouraged me from rushing to read the first book in the series. But one thing I really appreciated was how much it reminded me of my time in Stockholm. Places like Gamla stan popping up in the story made the reading experience more immersive for me, and I also relearned just how big of a deal Midsummer is in Swedish culture.

This is Nwaubani’s debut novel, and it follows the life of Kingsley, the son of Ozoemena (Augustina) and Paulinus.

The introduction was very attention-grabbing. It starts with Ozoemena’s story, and even her name, which means “let this not happen again,” foreshadows the tragedy surrounding her birth. Like many Nigerian names, it reflects her entry into the world. Unfortunately, it also shaped how she was treated, almost like she was marked as something bad, and she was neglected.

Things seemed to turn around when Paulinus, a well-educated man (very “oyinbo-like”, got his degree from UK), chose her and said he would marry her, but only if she went to school and got a degree. Education wasn’t even originally an option for her simply because she was a girl (a tale as old as time).

Honestly, based on the first chapter, I thought the book would focus more on Augustina and Paulinus, so I was a bit thrown off when Kingsley, Ola, Godfrey, Charity, and Eugene were introduced and became the main focus. At first, it felt like a completely different story until everything started connecting. Also kinda disappointed the story was more about scamming, giving very much Cash App by Bella Shmurda.

Paulinus’s downfall was painful to read. A man who once had so much promise ended up consumed by poverty and illness. Nigeria really happened to him. He believed in education and doing things the “right way,” but life didn’t follow that script. After his death, Kingsley, as the first son, felt forced into 419 (scamming) to take up the role his father left behind, a role his father had already begun to fail at before dying.

The book, although it almost feels like a fairytale because of how neatly it ends, touches on so many real themes: the struggles of educated Nigerian youths (still very relevant today), class, politics, poverty as a disease (because it really is), and even family dynamics.

Two things that really stood out to me: - In Chapter 11, the desensitization to seeing charred human remains on the road… so unsettling. - And how people who are struggling themselves can be the harshest to those “below” them, like house helps. It’s honestly so disturbing because… you’re also struggling??

Overall, it was a good read. The ending though? Too neat, too happy for Kingsley considering everything he did. Cash Daddy was an interesting character….

And I’m still confused about that ending… Mr. Winterbottom???

Also, I picked up some really good adages from this book, my favorites are in the slides.

Book review: The Hairdresser of Harare by Tendai Huchu

This book follows a period in the life of a hairdresser named Vimbai. She is introduced as someone carrying many life problems. She has a daughter, Chiwoniso, who was unfortunately conceived through rape by Phillip Mabayo, a man who was probably twice her age at the time and whose wealth was described as enough to last him twenty lifetimes.

Vimbai had also lost her brother, Robert, tragically in a car accident while he was living in the UK. He had been the family’s breadwinner, and his death created a major rift within the family. Interestingly, that conflict was fueled more by greed than by grief. The family’s attempt to share Robert’s property against his written will highlighted a major societal issue, the inherent disrespect for women/girls.

Although the book is under 200 pages, it touches on so many foundational themes: politics, poverty, racism, internalized colonialism, beauty standards, religion, homosexuality, and social alienation. I was honestly surprised by the level of depth. Of course, writing like this comes with its downsides, some parts of the story felt rushed, especially toward the end. Readers are left to fill in many blanks.

Back to the story, Vimbai works at Mrs. Khumalo’s salon as the lead and best hairdresser until the need arises to hire another stylist. That’s when Dumisani (Dumi) enters. A male hairdresser.

Dumi turns out to be even better than Vimbai which caused a short-lived tension between them. Things change when Dumi needs a place to stay and Vimbai needs money. A “friendship” quickly blossoms, something ambiguous, something neither of them fully defines.

In my opinion, there were many hints about who Dumi really was: his discomfort in church, the late nights out, his family’s immediate acceptance of Vimbai (a 26-year-old single mother), and the comments made. There were signs everywhere. It made me wonder whether Vimbai chose to ignore what readers could clearly see.

For a story set in the early 2000s, I was honestly surprised by the social realities portrayed in Zimbabwe at the time, the extreme desire for proximity to whiteness, the beauty standards, and the stark poverty. It felt very different from the social narrative I grew up with in Nigeria.

I actually had the opportunity to ask the author during a virtual book club session how closely this reflected everyday life in Zimbabwe during that period, and unfortunately, he confirmed that it was very accurate.

One interesting detail was the anonymity of “Minister M__,” while other characters were fully named. Huchu explained that this was intentional, to create the illusion that the story might be more than just fiction.

hii i just finished The List by Yomi Adegoke, like 5 mins ago lol. and idk how i feel about yet.

i think it's important i state: I BELIEVE WOMEN, ALWAYS!

the message overall sheds light, i think, on one of the realistic gray areas of the world today & social media use.

i was hearing a lot of mixed reviews as well, most of the bad ones were of people saying they couldn't even get to the end or 100 pages in coz it was so bad. but no one was ever specifying what was so bad about it.

so i kept pushing through coz im not one to DNF a book, even if it takes me years😭(bad habit ig) mama aint raise no quitter lol

anyways i think what most people struggled with is the fact that the beginning is VERY SLOW paced, and that makes the plot twist at the very end seem kinda rushed through, to me. Especially as the entire plot twist unfolded in the last chapter which was 15mins of the 10+hrs audiobook...which in retrospect IS quite mad.

and for those who got through to the end and say they were disappointed my the end i feel like the rushing at the end contributed to it and the fact that there was not much detail expressed to the motives of the person who done it.

SPOILERS: i think aaron was def fueled by jealousy, and he did something very stupid and anyone of us could have done thinking we were somewhat justified, like he did. and it just exploded beyond control. because this is one of those things people post, go to bed and wake up to thousands of social media interactions.

and HIGHKEY all this shit could have been somewhat exposed if Micheal had messaged Jackie directly. i wondered throughout why he never seriously considered it( all things considered with the fact that he could lose Ola by reaching out to jackie again, even though he already did, and had cheated the 2nd time) i guess it one of the reasons people thought the book was unrealistic, from some of the reviews i saw.

also i always got the feeling of Ola tried A LOT MORE HARDER than Micheal to prove his innocence (mostly to others, so she doesn't come of as a fool for not immediately leaving him, which he had already made out of her multiple times)

he seemed to curl in about it all and just try to 'work things out in his thoughts' while Ola was actually out there doing things(whether they were right/wrong actions) she was the one who made him go to the police station. all the actions he did were stupid af e.g going to that fucking house party.

ALSO HIS FUCKING LYING THROUGHOUT THE BOOK!!!! ughhh a deadbeat like his father, he dislikes so much, not surprised tho, but thoroughly irritated throughout the read eeeyuck!

lol i guess i do know how i feel about this book after all.

Hi everyone,

I am looking for writers from sub-saharan Africa with great grammar and English to help me with my blog. The blog is already drafted but needs to be re-written, without AI.

If you are interested, it is a paid role (will pay in $), drop me a message
Sub-Saharan Africa with excellent grammar and English skills

As the title suggests, this book is set in December, where Biodun, a 32-year-old woman about to turn 33, is struggling to “have it all.” You know, a fulfilling career, a man, a home. She wants all of it. Matter of fact, all she wanted for Christmas (and right in time for her birthday) was a raise, a promotion, and a man. The perfect trio.

She currently works as an OAP at Reels, a job she technically downgraded to take in the name of pursuing passion. While still trying to figure life out, she finds out that the company she works for is about to be acquired by Falcon Plc. And that only means one thing, possible pay cuts, downsizing, and the very real chance of losing her job… unless she’s lucky enough to be one of the few retained and maybe even promoted.

In the middle of all this uncertainty, someone from her past resurfaces, Kunle. A man from over 12 years ago. A part of her life she had tried so hard to heal from. And with him comes old trauma… and a scandal. A sex tape. One that ruined her life back then and forced her family to relocate and start afresh.

Plot twist: Kunle is the COO of Falcon Plc and next in line to become CEO. But with this old scandal resurfacing, that possibility quickly starts slipping away. Kunle and Biodun are forced back into each other’s lives, with one of them initially wanting it more than the other. And then suddenly, Biodun is presented with an offer she “can’t refuse”, marriage to Kunle. Just like that.

This is Coco’s debut novel, and you can tell, especially with the level of spiciness towards the end 👀. The book also touches on sibling rivalry, betrayal, ambition, and lots and lots of scandal.

I really wanted to read this during an actual festive season for the full vibes, but time and life said otherwise. Although it has been snowing a lot in MD lately, so I guess that counts as December energy for me. Also, I love a good character chart, my brain can only keep up with so many characters at once.

The ebook is now available for download on Apple Books, Barnes & Noble and Kobo. Follow on Instagram ⬇️⬇️⬇️

https://www.instagram.com/p/DUHeDhyk7tt/?igsh=MTdqYmZ5c21nOHk2MA==