Narrative Landscape New Titles Alert!

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Dear Reader,

We are pleased to announce the release of two new titles: Sleigh, Sleigh, Sleigh, All Day and A Shred of Fear.

Sleigh, Sleigh, Sleigh, All Day by Olympian Simidele Adeagbo is a gorgeously illustrated book that teaches children about never giving up and finding the strength to try again. The book also highlights the importance of hard work and self-belief.

Buy Sleigh, Sleigh, Sleigh, All Day for ₦2,000

A Shred of Fear by Uche Nwokedi is an account of the author’s experience during the Nigerian Civil War. Aged seven when the war began, he and his family would spend the next three years as refugees in their own country.

This memoir vividly brings dramatic events to life. Moments of fear, sadness, tragedy, and family solidarity are told with pathos and humour. More than a war story, this compelling narrative shines a fearless light on a dark period.

Buy A Shred of Fear for ₦5,000 – ₦7,000

Excerpt from SARO

If you haven’t gotten your copy of SARO by Nike Campbell, we hope this excerpt from the book will convince you to do so quickly:

Şiwoolu went to his mother’s hut where she stored the foodstuff. His foot brushed against a medium-sized bag leaning against the wall next to the doorway. It was barely discernible in the dark corner. He undid the knot at the top. The smell of freshly made garri hit him. He rummaged through the hut, found a calabash, filled it halfway with garri and poured some water in.
Alade smiled when Şiwoolu handed the calabash to him.
“I could not find the fried meat. Do you want some groundnut?”
“If you can find some. It will go down well with this.”

Şiwoolu followed the sound of voices coming from the back of Wuraola’s hut.
“I want some fried meat and groundnut for Baami and I.”
Wuraola raised her brow. “What for? I have made your father’s food.” She pointed at the tray not far from where they stood.
“The hunger was much, Maami. He could not wait. We are just about to drink the garri.”
She grabbed his arm. “Which garri? All our garri is right there. I had the sacks brought out here.” She pointed to the woven bags under the tree. The ones to the left are from the villages, the ones to the right, I bought myself.”
“I found the sack of garri in your hut, Maami, just next to the door to—”
She tightened her grip. “I do not take things from people that do not hand them directly to me. You know that!”

She took to her heels towards Alade’s hut. Şiwoolu ran after her but could not catch up. Her feet flew across the emptied compound to Alade’s hut. When Şiwoolu entered, Wuraola was shaking Alade who was slumped against the wall.
“Ọkọ mi? Alade!”
Alade fell forward into her arms. His eyes were open but unseeing. A frothy substance dribbled down the side of his mouth.
“Alade? Did you eat the garri?” Wuraola screamed as she shook him. “Where is it?” she turned to Şiwoolu.
He pointed at the upturned bowl on the floor, the mixture of garri and water, a puddle at his father’s feet.
“No! Where did you get it from, the garri?” She screamed, holding on to Alade. Şiwoolu ran to get the sack of garri and brought it to her.
“Pour it out, everything!” She screamed again, tears streaming down her ashen face. In seconds, the white granules were covered with blackened ones. Şiwoolu shouted as he fell backwards to the ground.
Wuraola wailed, “They have killed your father! They have killed your father!”