bibliogramma | Entries tagged with a: nnedi okorafor

I should have realised that having the Dora Milaje work with Spiderman was an obvious choice - “you are the one Anansi blessed.” Anyway, Nnedi Okorafor, reaslised it, which is how we got the three-volume run of Wakanda Forever, featuring Good ole Spidey, The Avengers and the X-Men with our glorious heroes, the Dora Milaje of the secret country of Wakanda.

Nakia, a Dora Milaje who has lost her loyalty, is living in the US as the villain Malice, but now she has stumbled onto something important - a talking drum stolen from Wakanda - and she is capable of dong real harm with it, so the other Dora Milaje have sent a team out to retrieve them both - from Spidey’s home territiory. No way he’s not getting involved. To say nothing of Ororme, Storm Goddess, and a few more of the Avengers.

It’s an exciting, self-contained story that makes good use of the Dora Milaje mystery, and the powers of Spidey, Ororme, Captain America, Rogue and a few other familiar faces, including that of the Black Panther himself.

Black Panther: Long Live the King, written by Nnedi Okorafor and drawn by various artists, is a self-contained story featuring T’Challa, King of Wakanda battling threats to his kingdom. Though his primary problem is a strange force, manifesting as a huge monster, which causes earthquakes and drains vibranium of its power, he must first face a reborn White Gorilla cult, led by a resurrected M’Baku, and a bitter friend from his youth who has designed a trap for him.

Okorafor completes her run with an alternate universe story about Ngozi, the young Nigerian woman who protects Wakanda as both Venom and Black Panther. Fun adventures to accompany Ta-Nehisi Coates’ powerful look at governance, power and responsibility in The Black Panther.

Nnedi Okorafor has described the arc of her Binti trilogy as: “African girl leaves home. African girl returns home. African girl becomes home." Which is to say, that this is not a narrative in which the important things are what Binti does, but rather, who Binti is, and who she becomes.

By the time we as readers embark on the final volume of the trilogy, Binti: The Night Masquerade, Binti has already become much more than she was in the beginning. She starts out her journey as an African girl, of the Himba people, a marginalised group within the area she grows up in, which is dominated by the more numerous and far more aggressive Khoush. She is a harmonizer, someone who can sense and use the currents of energy in its very broadest sense - emotional, physical, cultural - to bring things into harmony with eachother, a peacemaker. But she longs to be more.

She travels to an ancient, galactic university, surviving a massacre of her shipmates by the non-human enemies of the Khoush and entering into an exchange of genetic material with her attackers in order to bring about a measure of truce. She becomes friends, perhaps even more than friends, with Okwe, one of the Meduse who attacked her ship, and in the second volume, when she returns to Earth and Himbaland, Okwe accompanies her. At home, she discovers that she has grown beyond the limitations placed on her by the traditions of her people, and learns that through her father, she has a heritage communion made many generations ago between sone of her people, not treated as outcastes, and an alien race, the Zinariya. And yet again, Binti becomes more, as she chooses to join the outcaste community, having her alien DNA activated. Bonding with Okwe gave her the ability to communicate at a distance with the Meduse; becoming Enyi Zinariya opens her to a gene-based technology that permits long-distance communication with all others of her kind, and access to a racial history.

But at the opening of the third novella, Binti is in dire circumstances. Still struggling to adapt to the changes in her ways of thinking, perceiving and communicating brought about by the activation of her Zinariya self, she learns that the Khoush have attacked her parent’s home, seeking to kill both her and Okwe. Having failed to find either, they have set fire to her family’s house, and all her relatives, who sought safety in the deep roots of the ancestral structure formed from a massive tree, are believed dead. And Meduse ships, summoned by Okwe, are en route to avenge the attack and open up a new chapter of the long Meduse-Khoush war, on a battleground of the lands of the Himba people.

Despite her deep personal loss, despite being rejected by the other Himba for what and who she has become, Binti tries to use her skills as a master harmonizer to bring about peace between Meduse and Khoush.

And here is where it is vital to remember that this is a story about who Binti is becoming, not a story about what Binti does. Because despite her efforts, she is betrayed, and the peace fails. And everything that follows after is about what Binti will become, and not what happens to the Himba, the Khoush or the Meduse.

And part of Binti’s becoming is learning to be her own judge and arbiter, not to accept without question the beliefs if others, which her own experiences have shown her are so often limited and blind. In becoming her own home, Binti becomes mistress of herself, unbound by the restrictions others have always placed on her, freed by the web of connections she has forged with others to be fully herself among them.

Bogi Takács, “Some Remarks on the Reproductive Strategy of the Common Octopus”; Clarkesworld, April 2017
http://clarkesworldmagazine.com/takacs_04_17/

This is a story within a story, with one sentient being - a genetically enhanced octopus - telling another sentient being - a human - what is remembered in the group memory of the octopi about a great wrong committed by humans. The details unfold slowly, through filters of memory, time and difference, but the issues are familiar, the arrogance and assumption of human exceptionalism, the unthinking use of other living beings, the carelessness of the species. It’s not dramatic in its accusation, but it lingers nonetheless.

“Sun, Moon, Dust,” Ursula Vernon; Uncanny Magazine, May/June 2017
https://uncannymagazine.com/article/sun-moon-dust/

A sweet story of the “swords into ploughshares” variety; a farmer inherits a magical sword from his grandmother, a famous warrior in her day, but has no need or desire for war.

“Goddess, Worm,” by Cassandra Khaw; Uncanny Magazine, January/February 2017
https://uncannymagazine.com/article/goddess-worm/

Khaw deconstructs a Chinese legend about the discovery of silk weaving, revealing the acceptance of gendered violence that underlie it.

“Monster Girls Don’t Cry,” A. Merc Rustad; Uncanny Magazine, January/February 2017
https://uncannymagazine.com/article/monster-girls-dont-cry/

A powerful story about making room for difference. A young girl grows up hating and trying to erase the things that make her a monster in the eyes of the world finally learns to accept herself and demand acceptance from those around her.

“Carnival Nine,” Caroline Yoachim; Beneath Ceaseless Skies, May 11, 2017
http://www.beneath-ceaseless-skies.com/stories/carnival-nine/

Yoachim’s short story places us inside a world of conscious wind-up dolls, living in miniature cities around a model train layout. Each day the maker winds up the dolls, and they live their lives, ever watchful of the number of turns they have - a figure that varies with the conditions of their mainspring and possibly the whim, or degree of attention, of the maker. It’s an extended metaphor for human life, with not a great deal to add to the conversation about life, death, and fate, but does get points for including a situation that parallels the way family dynamics can change with the addition of a disabled child. A touching story.

“The Last Novelist (Or a Dead Lizard in the Yard),” Matthew Kressel; Tor.com, March 15, 2017
https://www.tor.com/2017/03/15/the-last-novelist-or-a-dead-lizard-in-the-yard/

Reuth Bryan Diaso is perhaps the last novelist in a galaxy in which no one reads books anymore. He has come to the planet Ardabaab to finish his last novel before he dies, but he has lost his inspiration. A chance encounter with a young girl whose enthusiasm for knowledge and raw artistic talent gives him the energy to renew his writing, and to share with her his love of books, of the physicality of reading, of the crafts of creating not just the sequence if words that make up a novel, but the actual process of printing a book. This is a story about loss and creation, endings and perhaps beginnings, death and renewal. I found it quite compelling.

“Utopia, LOL?,” Jamie Wahls; Strange Horizons, June 5, 2017
http://strangehorizons.com/fiction/utopia-lol/

It’s millions of years in the future, and human beings exist solely as uploaded intelligences in a vast artificial environment controlled by an AI known as Allocator. Almost all the usable mass of the solar system has been converted into the physical substrate that supports the set of virtual realities in which the human race spends its time, playing with simulations of millions of scenarios. But Allocator has limitations. It cannot interfere with human choices, which means that even as virtual beings, they continue to reproduce, requiring ever more substrate material. Allocator cannot extend its influence beyond the solar system - another programmed limitation - but humans can. Allocator’s dilemma - where can it find humans willing to inhabit space probes that will take them to other solar systems and find more space for the multitude of human minds? It’s a very well thought-out story, which touches on a number of issues related to artificial intelligence and informed consent.

“You Will Always Have Family: A Triptych,” Kathleen Kayembe; Nightmare Magazine, March, 2017
http://www.nightmare-magazine.com/fiction/will-always-family-triptych/

Kayembe’s novelette is powerful, terrifying, triumphant, laying bare the worst and best of the binds between family. In the midst of grief over the loss of his wife, a man does the unthinkable, destroys the son he believes caused her death, takes the other son away with him to America. Years later, he is truly haunted by his actions, and pays the price. Yet in the midst of a tale about supernatural revenge, there is also fierce love of brother for brother, mother for child and finally the discovery of self-love for the young woman who survives the toll exacted by the dead.

“Mother of Invention,” Nnedi Okorafor; Slate.com, February 21, 2018
https://slate.com/technology/2018/02/mother-of-invention-a-new-short-story-by-nnedi-okorafor.html

Anwuli is pregnant, almost ready to give birth. She is alone, deserted by her lover, a married man who deceived her about his status, then left her when she got pregnant. Shunned by her family and friends. All she has left is the smart house her lover built for her, an intelligent, self-repairing, self-improving home. But Anwuli has an even mire serious problem - she’s become severely allergic to the pollen of the genetically modified flowers that grow everywhere in New Delta City, and there’s a massive pollen storm brewing, one severe enough to put her into anaphylactic shock. When she goes into labour just as the pollen storm hits, help comes from a most unexpected source.

Sunny Nwazue is twelve, and lives in Nigeria with her parents, but she is Naijamerican - born in America to Nigerian parents - and she’s still getting used to living in Africa. People call her “akata” - a word that means bush animal and is a pejorative often used in Nigeria against Black Americans like Sunny. She’s albino, which is making it hard for her at school. She loves reading and learning, which is making it even harder. And though she doesn’t know it yet, she’s one of the Leopard People - the African name for those rare humans born with the ability to use juju, or magic. Some cultures call them shamans, or sorcerers, or other things.

Sunny is what the Leopard People call a free agent. Most Leopard people are born to families of Leopard People, and they know from childhood what they are, and what being a Leopard Person means, even though they don’t begin to come into their powers until they are initiated in early adolescence. But free agents like Sunny are born to families where no one else is a Leopard Person, and they know nothing about their heritage until something powerful happens, or they meet a Leopard Person who figures out what they are and brings them into the society.

Sunny is lucky. Not long after she has a strange experience with a candle and a vision, she meets another Leopard Person, a girl named Chichi who guessed what she is. Together with Sunny’s best friend Orlu, another, not quite as perceptive Leopard Person, Chichi begins Sunny’s introduction to her true people.

It’s not going to be easy. She can’t tell anyone who isn’t a Leopard about what she’s going through, and her parents are strict about things like curfews - but nighttime is when some of her most important learning must be done. And then there’s the matter of a serial killer who has been preying on children in the city...

Nnedi Okorafor’s book Akata Witch is ostensibly for young adults, but I found it just as interesting and entertaining as her books for adults. It’s a magical coming-of-age story, an adventure, and a mystery thriller all in one. Sunny is a determined, courageous young girl who draws the reader into her journey and keeps them reading, eager to see her succeed.

In Akata Warrior, the sequel to Akata Witch, Sunny and her friends are a year older, and Sunny has learned more about how Leopard society works, and is getting to know her way around the magical community of Leopard Knocks, which both is and isn’t part if the mundane world, but she is still somewhat of an outsider, with gaps in her knowledge of customs, history and traditions. She has a mentor, Sugar Cream, who is the Head Librarian of the community of Leopard Knocks, and is learning to read Nsibidi, the secret Leopard language that very few, even among the Leopard People, can read.

Even though she can’t talk to her parents about being a Leopard, they have come to grudgingly accept that she sometimes goes off with her friends to do things she doesn’t talk about. They aren’t happy about it, but they aren’t trying to stop her.

And she’s having dreams about a city filled with smoke, dreams that remind her of the strange vision she saw in a candle flame that began her journey toward becoming a Leopard person.

Forces are loose and moving in the world, and once again, Sunny and her friends will be instrumental in fighting the evil that has come through from the place of spirits the Leopard People call the wilderness.

I love these books. I love it that Sunny, who is different, who can be read as disabled, is a hero. I love it that her powers are partly derived from her disability. I love it that rather than gong with the same old child with a destiny trope, Okorafir has clearly established that it is the team of Sunny, Orlu, Chichi and Sasha that together can do great things - and that it’s not, in the eyes of the Leopard people, because they have a special destiny, but because they are the ones who happen to be here, now, with one set of skills that can wage the fight. If they fall, some other group will come along and carry on the battle, maybe in a different way, but it will go on. This is not te one and only hero story but an everyone can be a hero if they act at the right time just as anyone can fail.

And it is good to read contemporary fantasy that isn’t set in Europe or North America and doesn’t draw on European traditions of monsters and magic. This is fantasy that takes its shape from other traditions, and there’s not nearly enough of that around.

Nnedi Okorafor’s Binti - Home, begins less than a year after the first Binti novella. Binti and her Meduse companion Okwe have both been studying at the great Oomza University, Binti in mathematics and Okwe in weapons. But Binti becomes aware if a need drawing her home, and so, with Okwe at her side, she makes the return journey to Earth.

If the first Binti story was about finding communication and common ground with the other and the enemy, then this second story is about the consequences to those who try to make such contacts and keep them open. It is about the effects that going beyond the narrow confines of expectation and tradition has on the family, the community, the network of relationships around one. It is about being open to change and new ideas, new ways of being, of becoming.

Binti’s journey continues, as she becomes more apart from the people of her childhood, and encompasses more of who she can be.

Nnedi Okorafor's novella Binti is, like all of Okorafor's writing, a many-layered narrative that centres black peoples and black culture in a future that is much richer for it.

Contact and communication between different people is key in much of Okorafor's work. In Binti, she tells the story of a gifted young woman who breaks the traditions of her reclusive people to accept an invitation to study at a university renowned throughout the galaxy. But to reach Oomza Uni she must first navigate the human society of the Khoush, who are one of the dominant human cultures, and then survive an unexpected and tragic encounter with the Meduse, an alien people who are at war with the other known species in the galaxy.

Binti's cultural traditions and personal gift for bringing things into harmony allows her to become the first non-Meduse to communicate with the war-like species and reach an understanding of the reasons behind their aggression.

Backgrounding Binti's story and all the issues of contact interactions between peoples, traditions, cultures, and species are alluring glimpses of a fascinating future where mathematics and metaphysics overlap, and starships are grown from genetically modified shrimp. I find myself hoping that Okorafor revisits this future.

Several years ago I read a novella by Nnedi Okorafor called African Sunrise. It blew me away. Now Okorafor has developed that novella into a novel, The Book of Phoenix, intended as a prequel to her most amazing Who Fears Death.

The Book of Phoenix opens "two hundred years after it all went wrong," with the story of desert nomads Sunuteel and his wife Hussaina. Sunuteel enjoys spending time exploring the desert on his own, and it is fairly clear that his wife enjoys the occasional stretch of alone time too. On one of these excursions, Sunuteel discovers a cave full of ancient computers, one of which awakens and transmits a file to his "portable." The contents of this file - selectively edited and altered - will become the source for The Great Book (which plays a role in Who Fears Death), and the part that Sunuteel first listens to is a personal narrative from just before the apocalypse, The Book of Phoenix.

Phoenix is one of many experimental beings created or genetically and otherwise modified by LivGen, an organisation known to its creations/subjects/victims as Big Eyes. She's been alive for two years, but appears to be 40, and has spent all her life in Tower 7, one of seven facilities operated by LivGen, surrounded by scientists and other altered humans, most of whom are/were originally people of colour, primarily from Africa.

Phoenix's story moves forward on two levels. One level is of personal discovery, as she learns who she is, where she came from, what she is capable of, and how to live and love freely both as a human and as a being of immense power and potential. The other level is a bitter journey through the wrongs of humanity - from colonialism, slavery and genocide to technological arrogance, exploitation and greed and the destruction of the environment. As the two converge, Phoenix will make choices that utterly change the world.

Okorafor's work is brilliant both technically and artistically. As I said above, the novella blew me away. The novel it has become is even stronger, more powerful, more intense.

It's not often that you run into a work of fiction that makes you sit back on your heels and examine just how deeply you have bought into racist and colonialist narratives about an entire continent, but that's exactly what Okorafor's Lagoon did for me.

Lagoon is a narrative centred around first contact with a powerful, and very diferent, but at least potentially peaceful and beneficial alien species that has arrived on Earth. It is set, not in the standard European or North American metropolis, but in the Nigerian city of Lagos, which is built around a lagoon - where the alien vessel lands. The aliens, it turns out, are shapeshifters, with a twist - they have the science (so advanced as to be indistinguishable from magic) to change the shapes and substance of other beings and objects as well as their own. As the narrative unfolds, we follow the effects that the aliens - in particular their most visible ambassador, who adopts the form of an african woman and the name Ayodele - and their actions have on the city of Lagos and the people who give it life and vitality.

Three humans - Adaora, a marine scientist in a difficult marriage, Anthony Dey Craze, a Ghanian rap star, and Agu, a soldier in trouble after trying to prevent his comrades from committing a brutal rape - are drawn, even chosen, to be Ayodele's guides both in learning about human beings and in reaching the Nigerian President, sick and self-exiled to Saudi Arabia, defeated in spirit by his inability to deal with the problems facing his country.

And here is where my internalized colonialist narrative started screwing with my reading of the novel. A lot of bad shit goes down. Rabid religious leaders promote fear and loathing of the "witches" from space, multiple factions from criminal to government try to capture, co-opt or kill Ayodele, for money, for research, for trying to get alien support for their issues, for fear.... The list goes on. The responses are often fearful, even violent, and undeniably reveal many very real cultural, social, economic and political issues in Nigeria that need addressing. But because the universal human responses of fear, greed, self-interest, desire for power, are here filtered through an unfamiliar culture and at times a pidgin language, I found myself going to that "poor, undeveloped Africa" headspace that the colonialist narrative encourages.

And then I thought to myself - if this were set in New York or London, if the very same things happened only with white characters speaking standard English or recognisable British or American dialects (Bronx, Cockney), would I think any of these reactions improbable? And I had to say that I wouldn't. From the dying politician who failed to eradicate corruption in his government to the mysogynist priest who thinks aliens and strong-willed women are equally agents of Evil, to the street thugs who think having a captive alien who can create gold is their way to wealth and power - every single fearful or violent act that Okorafor has happen in Lagos could happen in London or New York or Toronto. That made me stop and think about a good many things, and I'd love this book for that alone.

But it's also a great story, about some people finding and reveling in their hidden strengths and differences, about new beginnings, about the irrepressibility of life, about the need to see all life on this planet as part of a web of creation. It's about kicking colonialist and imperialist remnants out of your brain and your life and - whether you happen to be an oppressed person or a colonised country - finding your own self and you own way of life. It's also about the act of creating narrative (which feeds into and is fed by many of the other themes). Okorafor uses elements of magic realism and African myth/religion to underscore this, especially in the segments when the voice of a trickster/narrator speaks directly to the readers. It speaks to many things, in many voices, on many levels.

Jennifer Pelland, Machine

Celia is dying from a disease that current medical science cannot cure. But in Celia's time, she has a choice, albeit a controversial one, with many strictures and controls. While she waits for a cure to be discovered, her failing body of flesh is frozen, while her consciousness is transferred into that of a bioform artificial body. What follows is a thoughtful investigation of identity, the connection between body and mind, gender, otherness, and power-over. Is Celia still Celia, or is there more to us than our thoughts, feelings and memories? And if she is, then who is Celia now that she is in a body of artificial construction that can be modified in appearance, colour, in gender (male, female, both, neither). Is she human, or less, or more - or simply other? And how do others see and understand her existence in this new form? Pelland tells a dark story here, with no easy answers - but I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Johanna Sinisalo, Birdbrain

One might call Birdbrain an ecological horror story. The main narrative follows two people, one an experienced and possibly over-confident cross-country hiker, the other a novice, as they tackle one of the most difficult trails in Australia. The two are lovers, recently met and not fully bonded. The account of their journey is interspersed with brief passages from the thoughts of an increasingly disturbed and violent urban youth and excerpts from Conrad's Heart of Darkness. As the book - and the hikers' journey - progresses, so does the sense of a subtle and increasingly intelligent volition running through the natural world the hikers traverse, one that is not kindly disposed toward the humans who have invaded its deepest recesses, leaving behind destruction and debris.

Karen Lord, Redemption in Indigo

A first novel from a writer to watch out for. As much about storytelling as it is about telling a story, the narrative line of the novel is based on a Senegalese folk tale of a woman chosen by the trickster spirit to carry the magical Chaos Stick, recently taken away from a powerful indigo-skinned spirit who misused its power, but wants it back and will try anything necessary to get it. Both learn important lessons from their interaction. Beautifully written.

Nnedi Okorafor, Who Fears Death

It's hard to know exactly what to say about Okorafor's first novel for adults. It's powerful. It's unsettling. It's amazing. It's not easy to understand. It's a magical mystery quest with a strong female protagonist who has a great task to perform, and a terrible destiny to fulfill. It adresses uncomfortable, unconscionable things like genocide, rape as a systematic weapon of war, female genital mutilation. It's about revenge, and renewal. It examines ways of finding strength in female friendships and ways of finding balance between heterosexual lovers. It's about overcoming prejudice and following your path, reconstructing your past and accepting your future.

It's something you really have to read to understand, and something you really ought to read because understanding what it has to say is important.

i seem to no longer have time, strength or energy to write the kind of commentary I used to on the books I've read, but I still want to keep a record. So I guess I'll use this journal now to just list them, and perhaps write a thing or two when I can.

So, the last books from 2012 are:

Nnedi Okorafor, African Sunrise (novella)
Nnedi Okorafor, The Shadow Speaker
Diane Duane, A Wind from the South
Nalo Hopkinson, New Moon’s Arms
Jo Walton, Lifelode
Kathy Acker, Pussycat Fever

Okorafor's visions enchanted and enlighted me.

Hopkinson's magical realities are wise and deep and true and I can't get enough of her.

Duane's fantasy novel set around the history of the birth of Swiss independance is new ground for this reader - so much European-set fantasy is modelled after places and situations in England, France, and to a lesser extent, Germany, Spain and Italy. A strong and interesting heroine. This is the first novel in a projected series, I hope Duane finds the time and reader support to write more.

Jo Walton is a magical writer. In Lifelode, as in her multiple award-winning novel Among Others, the magic is a mostly subtle thing in the beginning, but it builds and builds until you can feel its power despite its seemingly simple roots.

I'm not quite sure what to say about Kathy Acker. Read it and see what you think.

Thomas King, Medicine River
Mary Stewart, Airs Above the Ground
Wayson Choy, All that Matters
Rosemary Sutcliff, Sword at Sunset

The Thomas King novel is a must-read. His work is a gift.

I was similarly struck by Wayson Choy's novel, his second. I must now go find and read his first, which is about the same characters - a family of Chinese immigrants living in pre-WWII Vancouver.

The Stewart and the Sutcliff are re-reads from my youth, and were enjoyed as much now as they were then. Stewart's Airs Above the Ground was a tight adventure/romance, and the relationship between the main character and her husband as they deal with danger and mystery was as egalitarian as much of whay's written today. Makes me want to go back and reaquaint myself with Stewart's other heroines to see how they meet the test of time.

I remember Sutcliff's Sword at Sunset in particular as a relatively early approach to a more realistic retelling of the Arthurian mythos. Also for Sutcliff's casual and completely non-judgemental mention of same-sex relationships between a few of Arthur's companions.

Fantasy reads in 2010 included books by some of my favourite writers: Tanya Huff, Michelle West (aka Michelle Sagara), Lyda Morehouse (writing as Tate Hallaway), Mercedes Lackey (solo and in tandem with James Mallory), Kate Elliott, and Katherine Kurtz (writing with Deborah turner Harris).

I revisited Elizabeth Lynn's Chronicles of Tornor trilogy. discovered the work of Nnedi Okorafor and Anna Elliott, and found some newer works by familiar names - Andre Norton and Holly Lisle.

Anna Elliott, Twilight of Avalon

Mercedes Lackey, Gwenhyfar

Kate Elliott, King’s Dragon

Tate Hallaway, Dead If I Do

Elizabeth Lynn, Watchtower
Elizabeth Lynn, The Dancers of Arun
Elizabeth Lynn, A Northern Girl

Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu, Zahrah the Windseeker

Michelle Sagara West, Lady of Mercy
Michelle Sagara West, Chains of Darkness, Chains of Light

Tanya Huff, Sing the Four Quarters
Tanya Huff, The Enchantment Emporium

Andre Norton & Sasha Miller, To the King a Daughter

Mercedes Lackey & James Mallory, The Phoenix Transformed

Holly Lisle, Fire in the Mist

Katherine Kurtz & Deborah Turner Harris, The Temple and the Stone

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Nnedi Okorafor: Wakanda Forever
Nnedi Okorafor: Black Panther - Long Live the King
Nnedi Okorafor: Binti - The Night Masquerade
Short Fiction: February 23, 2018
Nnedi Okorafor: Akata Witch and Akata Warrior
Nnedi Okorafor: Home
Nnedi Okorafor: Binti
Nnedi Okorafor: The Book of Phoenix
Nnedi Okorafor: Lagoon
2013: some novels
Wrapping up 2012
2010: Fantasy

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Entries tagged with a: nnedi okorafor

Nnedi Okorafor: Wakanda Forever

Nnedi Okorafor: Black Panther - Long Live the King

Nnedi Okorafor: Binti - The Night Masquerade

Short Fiction: February 23, 2018

Nnedi Okorafor: Akata Witch and Akata Warrior

Nnedi Okorafor: Home

Nnedi Okorafor: Binti

Nnedi Okorafor: The Book of Phoenix

Nnedi Okorafor: Lagoon

2013: some novels

Wrapping up 2012

2010: Fantasy