Column No.6: Those you should’ve read: 2020’s best books (I)

It’s almost the end of 2020, and along with the usual year-end drama in politics, business, tech, and security, it’s the time for lists. I’ve decided that I will take a look at some things that have kept me company, enlightened me, entertained me, and in some cases even disturbed me. To be precise, books that were released this year. While the following is the first part of a murderer’s row of literature that’s kept me sane in the crazy times that made up most of this year, it’s by no means an exhaustive one, as I’ve racked up quite the stack in the past eleven months. Let’s begin:

1. The Girl With The Louding Voice, by Abi Daré (Ouida)

Daré’s debut novel tells a story in such a powerful, raw voice that brings to life the journey of a young Nigerian woman trapped in a stifling life of servitude. But titular girl Adunni wants an education so bad that the dream doesn’t die, even after her dad sells her off to become the third wife – and last hope – of a man desperate for a son. Perhaps sadistically, the best parts of this riveting tale are those which show there is seemingly no pain that Adunni doesn’t go through. And throughout the almost-400 pages, I felt it all with her. While I initially found some of the pidgin English dialogue disconcerting, I eased into it, making my journey a more believable, and unforgettable one.

2. Dreams And Assorted Nightmares, by Abubakar Adam Ibrahim (Masobe)

One of the most anticipated books of 2020, it almost missed its schedule due to coronavirus-related production issues. But out now, Ibrahim’s newest collection of short stories couldn’t be more aptly-titled, or essential. Flitting from subgenre to subgenre, the stories are mostly told in the dark shade of magical realism, dragging me by the collar to Zango, the author’s now-infamous creation located somewhere in northern Nigeria. The writer’s trademark multidimensional characters are there, and his writing – lyrical and poignant as ever – edges the stories along. Garnished by the risqué themes he is now famous for, it is a hot book from start to finish.

3. Ikenga, by Nnedi Okorafor (Viking)

Okorafor is a famous, award-winning sci-fi writer whose work cuts across genres, including Africanfuturism, a subgenre she created, and champions. But Ikenga, released in August, and the writer’s first novel for middle-grade readers, ventures into new territory. It introduces a twelve-year-old boy who can access supernatural powers with the help of a magical Ikenga, after his father’s murder. Set in the fictional town of Kalaria in contemporary Nigeria, the author conjures up characters so believable that they felt like my childhood friends, and a world so well-realised that I could practically smell the dusty roads. While targeting young readers, the writing is crisp and layered, telling a story that had me racing to the end, and in one sitting. Themes of loss, friendship, and honour are deftly touched upon, and all within an incredibly entertaining adventure to boot. Definitely buy for a youngster, but definitely read it before you give it out.

4. A Promised Land, by Barack Obama (Crown)

I must confess that due to its ample heft, Obama’s newest book intimidated me. For about a minute before I began to read it, that is. While mostly populated by his politics – a mixed bag for me – I was more captivated by the many snippets of his personal life which peppered the book in a most organic way. His relationship with his family, friends, and associates paint an even clearer picture of the kind of man he is, ironically so because he’s the one doing the telling. You’d think after two books, one would have read about as much about the first Black president of the U.S, but this, the third is very welcome and relevant. Written in his crisp style, it sounded like he was narrating it to me. It was with great joy I read that a second volume will follow. Encore!

5. Survivor Song, by Paul Tremblay (William Morrow)

Set in a world in the middle of a deadly pandemic, Tremblay’s last book was begging for me to read it, and for three simple reasons. Number one, it was released on my birthday, the 7th of July. Number two, horror master Stephen King once said about him ‘[He] scared the living hell out of me, and I’m pretty hard to scare’. Number three, the novel was released smack in the middle of a deadly, world-changing epidemic. You see the symmetry there? It’s in his usual fast-paced style, and dotted with jaw-dropping moments populated by memorable characters he isn’t shy to drop at any moment. Even without the spectacularly strange timing of the release, this story would’ve hit raw nerves. It certainly hit mine.

To be concluded next week.