This is a brilliant debut novel set across different countries, decades and generations.

The book begins in 1898 in Gujarat India and tells the story of the 80 thousand south Asians that were expelled from Uganda in by president Amin in 1972. This is a whole part of history that I had no idea happened. Needless to say it is sad, shocking, harrowing and brutal. However the author has done a great job of weaving in times of joy love, friendship and family. The book flicks between different family members throughout generations from grandparents, parents, child and grandchild. It was a very interesting book and one that will sit with me for a while. I loved Janikas writing, her descriptions and words made me feel that I was there with the family.

I have already recommended to others and will look out for more from this author
4.5 stars rounded up to 5

A History of Burning is an epic multi-generational tale of one extended family's search for a secure home to truly call their own. At times the story is heartbreaking, as successive generations repeatedly suffer similar persecution and discrimination across time and different countries. Yet the resilience and determination of this single family's struggle to survive and thrive makes the book hopeful and uplifting. Janika Oza does a wonderful job of showcasing the cultural continuity that binds the various generations together as they are forced from country to country in search of a safe permanent home. Special thank you to Random House UK, Vintage and NetGalley for a no obligation advance review copy.

The author of this novel has, from interviews, worked as a refugee settlement worker as well as studying for a Masters in Immigration and Settlement Studies – and this, together with her family’s on history as Indians who fled Uganda for Canada during the Amin expulsion of Asians, has clearly informed this extensively researched and historically-grounded multi-generational saga – spanning from 1898 and the building of the Uganda Railway from Mombasa to 1992 and the Toronto riots after the police killing of Raymond Lawrence (shortly after the US acquittal of the Rodney King attackers).

The story begins with Pirbhai in India – 13 years old and desperately looking for work to support his starving sisters and widowed mother he unwittingly signs up for a sea passage to East Africa and crushing work in servitude on the railways. There he determines to work as hard as he can and not contact his family until he ever earns enough money to send back and in a seminal and titular scene he agrees to burn down a native village which is impeding the passage of the railway.

We move forwards to 1902 and to Sonal – whose parents moved to Kenya from India to set up a shop servicing the railroad managers. Pirbhai – who when discharged from the railway decided not to return (not wanting to find out what had happened to his family) – is given work in the shop by her parents who eventually propose that the two marry and move to Kampala to work in a family pharmacy and send money back to Kenya to support the family.

In 1917 we pick up their story – now with two girls Varsha and Sonal and a baby on the way (a boy Vinod) – now sending money to Pirbhai’s family as well as Sonal’s. We see Vinod in the 1920s and 1930s growing up and starting to prosper before in 1947 taking an arranged marriage with Rajni who travels across from India (sent by her family to avoid the horrors of Partition which off page claim the lives of her two brothers on her parents journey to a Hindu area).

Vinod and Rajni then have three girls: Latika, Mayuri and Kiya – and the family prosper before and initially after independence. They take in a student Arun as a lodger who is something of an activist and Latika falls first for him and then for the protest movements – the two marrying and Latika writing an underground anti-government newspaper. Shortly before the family finds itself expelled in 1972 Arun is seized by the army for what they believe to be his role in the newspaper and when the family desperately flee to exile (other than Mayuri who has gone to study medicine in India) Latika refuses to come with him, insisting that Rajni takes her and Arun’s new born son Harilal.

The second half of the book is in Toronto where the family gains asylum – Vinod and Rajni bring up Harilal as their son and they are eventually joined by Mayuri who takes an arranged marriage to a naturalised Canadian from an Indian family (although then finding that her qualifications do not work in Canada) – but the family is haunted by Latika – their lack of knowledge of her fate, the blame they seek to attribute between them for allowing her actions and the secret they are keeping from Harilal.

And the book ends, as it begins, with a fire of which the author says: “I wanted a title that spoke to the themes of complicity and resistance running through the book. I landed on burning because when we think of a burning, what usually comes to mind is something that's destructive or harmful or violent. Very often that's true. But a burning can also be something that is purposeful or regenerative, like a controlled burning of a forest to encourage new growth. Throughout my novel both of these possibilities are there”.

The novel while distinctive in its own setting and particular story seemed to me rather conventional in its basic plot and style.

Even the mixing, in the English text, of words from other languages (here, particularly in the early sections, copious sprinklings of Swahili and Guajarati) is an approach that seems common to this type of book and which never for me really works other than to distance me as a reader (adding an additional barrier to a book which is already long, skips forwards in time and has no family tree included) – meaning I never really gained the necessary level of investment in the family.

But I did like the themes of how a family chooses to deal with loss and trauma (with silences and secrets sometimes key) and externally forced change (with an active choice to survive and to re-make lives being key).

This is an ambitious, beautifully-written novel about the Indio-Ugandan experience. I have read a couple of other books surrounding this part of Indian history, but felt I learnt the most from this book and that it gave much more detail and context to the situation. The novel follows a family across several generations depicting each of the different generations' experience of displacement and sense of home masterfully. I really connected to some of the individual characters' stories and read these parts of the book compulsively. However, the switch of narratives felt jarring and brought me out of feeling immersed in the story. This led to the overarching narrative feeling fragmented even though the author was trying to tell not only the story of a family, but also of a nation. This book was an accomplished work about themes which the author is clearly passionate. But a little hard to keep going at times as a reader.
This honest review is given with thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this book.

I got A History of Burning by Janika Oza from NetGalley for free for a fair and honest Review



A History of Burning by Janika Oza tells the story of Indian immigrants who came to Africa under the British Empire.

Concentrating on Pirbhai, a young teenage boy who went to Uganda. The story then follows how Pirbhai met his wife there and follows their descendants' lives through Ugandan Independence and being kicked out of the country, under Idi Amin and their subsequent lives.

To me A History of Burning by Janika Oza, is an Historical novel that aims to do what all the best Historical fiction novels do at their best.

This is to give the readers enough of an historical background to an area of history that they may not be totally familiar with. Adding a story which gives the historical facts a humanity to the story which textbooks can never do.

While all historical novels do this, Janika Oza’s does this in a wonderful story told through several generations of the same family, with each chapter being divided into an event told through a family member's point of view.

In addition there is a danger in some historical novels of this type concentrating on the setting of the story to the detriment of the individuals lives, in A History of Burning we have the lives of the characters shaped by their events rather than totally run by them.

Making the people 3 dimensional rather than a 2 dimensional image, allowing the reader to really get drawn into the story.

Which makes A History of Burning by Janika Oza a compelling novel of a family whose lives have been altered by major historical events.

Interesting and engaging read about the Indian minority's experience in Uganda throughout the 20th century. Well executed multi generational saga where each character will take a piece of your heart.

4.5 stars

On completing A History of Burning, I realized that this was the third novel I’d read in as many months that illuminated events in my own lifetime that I’d been largely ignorant of beyond the basic facts. I’m grateful to authors like Janika Oza for delivering history lessons that are more relevant, and certainly more honest, than anything I ever learnt in school.

A History of Burning is a sweeping, multigenerational saga that travels from partitioning India to East Africa to Canada, following a family of migrants as they seek to find a place to call home; a place where they can feel welcomed, equal and free. It’s a powerful story of exile and survival, of identity and belonging, of aspiration and dignity. And it made me fizz with anger at the devastating legacy of British Imperialism across two continents.

Oza’s writing is compelling, driven by an unforgettable cast of characters headed by patriarch Pirbhai, who we first meet as a 13 year-old boy in Gujarat, sent out by his mother to find work. Tricked by a press-gang, he finds himself on a perilous ocean crossing to Kenya, where he’s forced into slave labor on the railroad.

What follows, as Pirbhai grows, marries and finally settles in Kampala, Uganda, is an immigrant tale that has been told many times over. The constant striving for betterment in a place that is home but not home. Each generation climbing a little higher up the social scale. The relentless pursuit of education, as “something they can never take away from you.” Until, that is, you find yourself dispossessed and banished to a new country, where your qualifications and experience count for nothing. And you have to start all over again as “other”.

Until I read this book, I knew nothing about the Indian diaspora in Africa or of its mass expulsion under the terror regime of Idi Amin. The facts are no doubt detailed in numerous historical tracts, but what Oza does so brilliantly is humanize them so that they become something tangible: the real experiences of real people.

This story has given me so much to contemplate, including how the phenomenon of forced migration — along with all its negative consequences — still exist. How is it possible that so little has changed in three-quarters of a century?

Janika Oza takes us from the end of the nineteenth century to the present day through the history of a Ugandan Asian family. The trials and triumphs of these people deserve to be celebrated; too often we are told about the evil dictator Idi Amin and little about those whose livelihoods, ambitions and homes he destroyed.
Whilst the story begins with the slave labour their grandfather endures as part of the gang constructing the East Africa railway for the British, it is his granddaughters who become centre stage over the course of the novel. Three very different women, all affected by their exodus from Uganda, separated geographically for many years. In London, the eldest, Latika, recognises that ‘…the boundaries of our people had shifted again, expanding around all whose histories were linked by violence and domination, our present united by our collective grief.’
In the novel’s final pages, the author celebrates her characters’ determination to rebuild, to forgive, to value family over all else even when deep fissures are apparent: ‘What was love but one long act of forgiveness, of choosing to return, again and again.’ This is a wonderful read which not only educates but also illuminates the importance of shared traditions and memories, and celebrates the strength of the human spirit.
My thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage, Chatto & Windus for a copy of this book in exchange for a fair review.

An absolutely heartbreaking book, which explores a disturbing chapter in history that is not often spoken about - the British abuses of South Asians for labor in their East African colonies, and then the subsequent expulsion of South Asians from Uganda after independence from the British. The story is told through the saga of a family, starting with the arrival of a young boy who is brought to labor on the railway by the British in Kenya and the brutally of that forced labor. Subsequently we fellow him as he builds his own family, and becomes part of the large South Asian community in East Africa, specifically in Uganda where generations of South Asians were born and considered themselves Ugandan rather than Indian. When Idi Amin takes power and decides to expel all non-Africans from Uganda, we see once again the hardship and heartbreak the family goes through as they are forced to leave the only home they have ever known and ultimately settle in Canada. In the end, this is a story of family love and survival, and absolutely beautifully written. The only thing I wish I could change is to make it somehow not true that this happened, because it is almost too sad to bear. A stunning debut novel and I will look forward to reading more from Janika Oza in the future!

This mesmerising novel tells a story I knew little about and is a real education. It is a multifaceted tale of belonging, forced migration and survival with themes of poverty, racism, oppression, and colonialism. However, what screams louder are the powerful, selfless characters striving for their own corner of the world.

We are taken back to India in 1898 when Lord Curzon became Viceroy and the country was under British control. It is here, under these dire circumstances, we are introduced to 13-year-old Pirbhai. Trying to earn some money, he is lured into cheap employment. In a cruel twist of fate, Pirbhai finds himself one of many Indian workers working the railway lines the British were constructing in Kenya, labouring under brutal conditions and incurring an appalling 2500 deaths by the time they completed the works.

“Sometimes he envisioned the track complete, a red engine slicing through the trees. But he couldn’t imagine who would sit on these trains. Not his kind, he was certain, who the mzungu called coolies, whose bodies were breaking under the weight of the task they were indebted to fulfill. And surely not the natives, who carried makarai of smashed rocks to lay down so that Pirbhai and the others could build on their land. “If we ever get to ride that train,” one of Pirbhai’s tentmates joked, “it’ll be British in first class, Indian in second, African in third.” Pirbhai laughed along, but he couldn’t imagine them all sitting level like that, even if they were apart.
Kind mattered less than order.”

What ensues is Pirbhai’s family saga from 1898 all the way through to 1992.

“They had arrived here: almost whole. They would leave again, find another place. They would let it burn and insist on something better.”

We follow his children, gran-children and great grandchildren as they survive oppressive regimes, from India to Kenya, Uganda and eventually from Uganda to Canada and UK as refugees of the Idi Amin regime.

“The country [Uganda] was rearranging beneath their feet, along with the rest of the world. India had shown it was possible to wrest free of Britain’s grip, and the ripple had crossed the ocean. Next door, in Kenya, freedom fighters were rising against the colonials, sovereignty blazing in their eyes. Uganda was next, everyone said.”

It is the survival spirit that shines through: always looking to build a life where peace, security and dignity of life is upheld, Pirbhai’s family move from Kenya to Uganda. Alas, when Idi Amin took over Uganda and ultimately forced tens of thousands of Asians to leave Uganda.

“A painful goodbye doesn’t change the love that precedes it”

Janika Oka successfully depicts the panic, heartache and fear of the people who lived and loved the country as they place they called home. There are some heart wrenching moments, at one point I couldn’t hold back the tears.

I know that this is a book that will be etched in my mind for many years to come.

Thank you to the publisher for the ARC, in exchange for an honest review. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get into this, This is no reflection on the author,.

An absolutely stunning read, a fantastic debut novel. Such a detailed, but not overwhelming family saga which covers a period of history I wasn’t overly familiar with. I highly recommend!

I could not get into this book at all. It jumped all over the place, which I appreciate builds the story, but I got lost most of the time. I feel this a not very good 1st novel and hope that the author's future books are more organised and easy to read.

Starting in 1898 India, Pirbhai is tricked into travelling to Africa to work on laying the railway. The book covers a hundred years and ends in Toronto with the 1991 riots.

An impressive debut novel covering a family that is displaced time and time again.

For me the first few chapters were the strongest. After a while It became more a series of interlinked short stories than a cohesive novel. I eventually found the repeated five or ten year jump a bit frustrating as I wanted to stay in one period of time for longer.

Thanks to Netgallery for the ARC and thanks to the author for the memory of those riots as I had forgotten them.

With debut novels, you are never quite sure what to expect, but I absolutely adored this book. A multi-generational story of one particular Indian family and their trials and triumphs over a number of different epochs and continents, A History of Burning is the author's stunning initial entry/opening gambit into, hopefully, a forthcoming oeuvre with just as much of a beguiling and beautiful tone.

Fiction set against the backdrop of other cultures that have managed to maintain their customs and traditions and cultural identity has a special pull for me, partly because the west seem to have lost their identity somewhere along the way, and this did not disappoint with an intricate story layered atop of real events and their repercussions throughout Asia and parts of Africa. Putting it down, I found, was rather a tricky prospect.

Oza writes with such beauty that you cannot fail to be hooked by the narrative from the first few pages. This is the first fiction book I have gotten rather excited about in a while; it truly deserves to be widely read. A compelling, incisive and often breathtaking work of literature which examines the vast struggles of life and the burdens we all bear. Highly recommended.

the very lazy part of me wants to say that if you loved Homegoing & Pachinko you’ll love this… so I’ll stick with that impulse. it’s a fair comparison!

this follows generations of the same family, starting with Pirbhai in the late 1800s. he is looking for work in his small village in India & is tricked by the British onto a ship bound for Uganda to build a railway. from here we meet four (I think?) generations of his family that span across India, Uganda & later Canada & England. I will admit that the expulsion of Asians from Uganda in the 70s is not something I knew of so this was a really enlightening look at some truly horrid world history.

I did find this a touch slow to start but when I was hooked I was HOOKED. what a beautiful & desperately sad story. it’s multi-generational so of course has multiple perspectives & each one felt so distinct yet a perfect continuation of what came before. cannot recommend this enough, absolutely staggering that it’s a debut!

A History of Burning is an ambitious family epic, spanning over 100 years, 4 generations and 4 continents.

It took me a little while to settle into it, the narrative soon settles into a comfortable pace and I found myself completely swept up by the characters and their world. It's a story of familial love and connection, even as circumstances continually tear them apart. Oza shifts perspective effortlessly, giving an insight into each character's unique journey. I found it well-balanced and perfectly paced, so that even as I dipped in and out of the novel, I was never disorientated.

The Asian experience in Africa is an area of colonial history that I didn't know much about, but through one family's story, I found Oza covered many aspects of this complex history without it ever seeming too dry or didactic.

Compelling and thought-provoking, A History of Burning is a wonderfully crafted family epic that is well worth the read.

Thank you Netgalley and Random House UK, Vintage for this eCopy to review

I felt A History of Burning could have been a really great story, it's sense of timing was a bit off either skipping through years or being incredibly detailed and slow.

I really enjoyed the history of all the different generations of a family and following their stories but struggled to see how the burning metaphor carried through the ages. I learned a lot of our history about how Indians were taken to Africa and settled there and then the civil unrest there. I took away how much families can struggle to find a home and build a better life for their children and how to be strong enough to start again when necessary and how it doesn't just take your parents to raise you but a whole community

I had difficulty in reading this as the flow appeared very mixed up.. The theme was an excellent one but it did not come across as well as i had hoped.

A History of Burning is a book that grew on me. It was a book of two halves, the first, somehow slow and ponderous while skipping through the years, and the second, which took more time to focus on the main cast.

This is a family saga type story that follows an Indian family in Uganda, from the time that Pirbhai steps aboard a boat and is taken to Kenya in 1898, up until his grandson and family are expelled from the country by Idi Amin. It’s almost 100 years covered in a 400 page book, so obviously some of it’s going to be fleshed out more than the rest.

Mostly, I found this to be the case in the first half compared to the second, as I said. The first half of the book takes us up until Idi Amin’s expulsion, so covers the bulk of the timeframe of the book, while the second half allows us to slow down and learn about these characters more in depth, since it covers a comparatively shorter time. I felt the first half then, because it leapt around between characters and times so much, didn’t hold quite the emotional weight of the second. I didn’t have time to connect with the characters because they were on page only briefly at any one point. There was Pirbhai at 13, then suddenly a few years later, then again a decade or so after that. The earlier members of the family didn’t feel nearly so fleshed out as the later ones.

So, the halfway mark came, and I was kind of drifting through this book. I wasn’t in love with it but I didn’t hate it either. It was a perfectly alright read. The second half changes that, I think catalysed by the major turning point of the family’s expulsion from Uganda. Because it’s the main point of conflict in the book (or at least, one of them) we had to slow down around this point and, as such, the second half of the book only covers maybe 20 years, if that, compared to the 70 years or so of the first.

This is when the book grew on me and I came to enjoy it more, especially the storyline around Latika (and, yes, I was still vainly rooting that things would turn out alright for her. Vainly because… well no spoilers, but if you know, you know). If the entire book had been like this, I think I could easily have loved it, but it was that first half and the way it dragged that did me in.

Overall, though, this is a book I’d recommend and I think, if I’d known how it would be paced before reading it, one I could have enjoyed more (and might well do so if I ever reread).