This is a story that looks at the very particular dynamics in one family, steeped in a particular cultural context, and draws out universal emotions and experiences that readers will relate to, no matter their own cultural backgrounds.

Lizzie and Margot are sisters whose lives go in very different directions. Lizzie marries an African man and moves to Nigeria while Margot, obsessed with money and status, remains in the UK.

When Lizzie dies unexpectedly, her daughter Funke, not only finds herself living with her mother's family in Britain, but also has to navigate an unfamiliar environment and identity, where she is given the new name of Kate.

Fortunately, Kate/Funke and her cousin, Liv find in each other the sister that their mothers never actually had.

This is a beautiful coming of age story that also looks at questions of identity, family dynamics, and the priorities that we choose in our lives and how those impact us. Worth a read. It gets 3.5 stars.

The drive of this story is sisterhood, but more saliently, motherhood. Funke’s mother Lizzie is an open-hearted woman who treats life like a joyful adventure, leading and nurturing everyone around her in an unconventional but meaningful way. She fell in love with a Yoruba man and moved to Nigeria, and this relationship upset the emotional and financial fates of her family back in Dulwich, England. Liv’s mother is obsessive: about her family’s status, about her daughter’s weight, about what will happen to her parents’ estate once they die, and with Lizzie, who she believes cost her, her destiny. She’s one of the least likable characters in this story.

Funke and Liv might never have met if it weren’t for a tragedy that forced Funke to get accustomed to a new world, a new family, and even a new name. When she finds herself stuck in England with no one but this strange, overly talkative cousin to talk to, Funke spirals into despair. But a sister is the surest way out of the dark: in that childlike way that only nine- or ten-year-olds can, Liv and Funke – now called Kate – forge a kind of friendship, coming to understand each other in a way that saves Kate’s sanity in this strange land where she feels unwanted.

The cousins grow up together but eventually go their separate ways: Liv wants to go as far from her mother’s reproving eye as possible, while Kate has grown very close to the matriarch of the family – Margot and Lizzie’s mother, her grandmother – and stays closer to home, following a more conventional path through school and having high hopes for her studies in medicine.
They could have carried on very well if it weren’t for a second tragedy involving a car. It forced Liv to grow up and look beyond the mire of self-loathing she had been living in, and it forced Kate to rediscover Funke and to come to terms with the violence that always accompanies her life’s milestones.

In between all of these big challenges and declarations, there are many keen, engaging observations of history and culture in England and in Nigeria. This is the strength of Nikki May’s writing: she is able to paint a picture of a world and, in this case, of different periods of time in history, using characters who are full, endearing, frustrating, frightened and sometimes even funny.
When the sentences start to drag a little bit (I did find the book a bit too long) what will keep you reading is the need to see what curious decisions a character makes next.

As with many stories about family feuds that we have been told before, the issue is money. Margot wants it all to herself, and this leads her to manipulate and fabricate while also playing the victim: the classic move of many white woman villains in pop culture.

The men in this book are either full of emotion and making fateful decisions, or passive-aggressive and patriarchal in the worst ways. Dominic, Liv’s brother, has no personality except being a spoiled rich boy who treats people like footnotes in his life story. His lack of direction makes him dangerous. Dominic strolls through the whole book in a daze but he’s clear-eyed enough to push the consequences of his foolish behaviour onto the nearest black woman.

Professor Oyenuga, Funke’s father, is a man who loves his family dearly: dotes on his wife and, as later events show, thinks of his son as the ultimate treasure in his life. He’s a man of his time in that way, supposedly: loves his children equally, but his son just a bit more than his daughter; has a harridan for a mother and gives her a little too much of his ear when she comments about how he is raising his family.
Yet, later when time has revealed some things to him and to the reader, he appears to be someone who is open to changing his mind – something very difficult for the average patriarch to do – and someone who knows how to appreciate one of life’s rare second chances.

Another thing that Nikki May does well is to create a cast with a shared history, tie them up in each other’s fates, and then reveal a betrayal or an admission that changes everything. The many compelling threads of the story are held together by a precarious belief that everything will turn out okay in the end.

But does it?
In the end, many truths that had me frustrated in the middle of the book are unravelled and some things are set right. However, and this may be because of the length of the book, the aftermath of the issues is not explored as deeply as everything leading up to them. This means that consequences are not fully felt.
I would have liked to see characters dealing with their new perceptions of the world and of their family alongside the other affected parties. As it is, and probably to further emphasise the theme of separation/division, Liv and Funke are having their thoughts on their own, with no real evidence to hold anything up.
While Margot did get what was coming to her, I think the terrible effect her actions had on her family as a whole needed a mention.

Overall, this was an interesting observation of what happens when we choose our family. What do we owe each other, really?
I enjoyed the reading experience, especially after I hit my stride at 100 pages. This one needs just a little bit more concentration than just “reading while the TV is on”.

Wahala by Nikki May is one of the most original and entertaining novels of 2022, and I loved every page of it.
So, naturally I had to get a copy of May's latest novel, This Motherless Land as soon as possible. And like the preceeding novel, This Motherless Land, is raw and powerful - a tale of race, family and emotions.
Our protagonist is Funke, a young Nigerian girl who is sent to live with her aunt, and grandparents after the tragic death of her mother and then many years later, she is "returned" to Nigeria in a similar manner. Throughout her life, Funke is treated as less important than her brother, and then significantly less important than her white relatives. The role of race and the difference in treatment of white and black people is both shocking but also realistic and an eye-opener for (white) readers.
I found myself routing for Funke throughout the novel and constantly wishing for her to gain support.
I'll be rereading and recommending This Motherless Land.

I loved this novel so much. Read it in 24 hours which is something I've not done with a book for years. It's so emotional : raw, interesting, different and hugely memorable. I really enjoyed Wahala too, but this is even better. Really, really fab and deserves to be huge.

I adored Wahala so jumped at the chance to read this. I didnt find it quite as entertaining but the writing was still powerful, exploratory and moving.

I was drawn in by the characters who were vivid and strong which made for good reading.