Scan barcode
A review by jukietoss
And Then He Sang a Lullaby by Ani Kayode Somtochukwu
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
This is a searing and intimate look at the impact of nationally sanctioned homophobia on the queer community. Seen through the worlds of August and Segun, we witness a range of ways that queer men in Nigeria fight to thrive and make tradeoffs about how they live in order to do it. It's devastating and captivating. As a new anti-gay law is passed in Nigeria, the love between August and Segun is fractured, and both men struggle to determine how to move forward in a country that so publicly hates them.
I couldn't help but think of Awkwaeke Emezi's The Death of Vivek Oji as I read this--another gorgeous novel set in Nigeria and taking a devastating look at the impact of the country's homophobia. Kayode's novel felt in conversation with that one--in some ways more personal, bringing the reader in tight to the pain and struggle as it unfolds.
This feels like a novel that you want to turn away from, but can't and shouldn't. It's devastating in micro ways--like the small fractures that August and Segun suffer by being so close and so in love--and in macro ways, as legislation directly impacts how the queer community is seen by the country, granting impunity to the homophobes that surround our protagonists.
I recommend this book for people willing to take a look at the real life impacts of anti-queer legislation on individuals and communities, and to reckon with our own complicity if we turn away. Read it for a complicated love story that explores how much pain two people can carry, and how breaking points are weathered and succumbed to. It's heart-breaking and un-put-down-able.
I couldn't help but think of Awkwaeke Emezi's The Death of Vivek Oji as I read this--another gorgeous novel set in Nigeria and taking a devastating look at the impact of the country's homophobia. Kayode's novel felt in conversation with that one--in some ways more personal, bringing the reader in tight to the pain and struggle as it unfolds.
This feels like a novel that you want to turn away from, but can't and shouldn't. It's devastating in micro ways--like the small fractures that August and Segun suffer by being so close and so in love--and in macro ways, as legislation directly impacts how the queer community is seen by the country, granting impunity to the homophobes that surround our protagonists.
I recommend this book for people willing to take a look at the real life impacts of anti-queer legislation on individuals and communities, and to reckon with our own complicity if we turn away. Read it for a complicated love story that explores how much pain two people can carry, and how breaking points are weathered and succumbed to. It's heart-breaking and un-put-down-able.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Homophobia
Moderate: Suicide