There are books you enjoy, books you recommend, and then there are books that sit with you — long after you’ve turned the final page. These stories linger in your spirit, not because they were perfect, but because they told the truth in a way that felt personal.
These particular novels — all written by Nigerian women — did just that for me. Each one cracked something open, whether it was identity, grief, womanhood, friendship, or the complicated ache of belonging. These are the stories I didn’t just read. I remember them. I carry them.
Here’s what stayed with me.
Have you read any of these? And what books have sat with you lately? I’d love to hear!
Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Americanah holds a special place for me because when I first finished reading it, I thought, “I want to write something that makes people feel the way I feel right now.” It’s an excellent intersection between the jarring experience of becoming Black in America and the identity shifts that occur when your home country has no framework for understanding U.S. race relations.
At the same time, it captures what it means to feel like an outsider in both your homeland and your adopted home. Adichie doesn’t just write about being Nigerian or being Black — she writes about becoming aware of yourself through the gaze of others, and how that gaze can both distort and define.
Americanah was the first novel I didn’t read as a spectator, but as a character. I saw myself in the tension, the distance, the longing, and the unspoken things. I was challenged. I was conflicted.
It made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t known I needed — and made me want to write stories that aren’t polished for acceptance, but raw and honest enough to hold truth.
Someday, Maybe by Onyi Nwabineli
I have never read a book so rooted in grief. Someday, Maybe is heart-wrenching in a way that made me immediately add it to my book club list, because we need to talk about it.
As a society, we talk about everything. Hot takes are everywhere. But when it comes to grief, even the chattiest among us grow silent. No one knows the right thing to say. And those who do find the words often aren’t sure if they land.
This novel confronts grief head-on, but not just grief. It also peels back layers of culture, classism, interracial relationships, and the quiet ache of being married to someone who is loving — but mysterious.
Depending on where you are in your own emotional journey, the main character will cause you to be empathetic, impatient, loving, supportive, or super shady. She is deeply human. Confronting such a raw human experience in the most devastating of circumstances can send anyone on a rollercoaster. In this case, not just the character, but also the reader.
Someday, Maybe didn’t just sit with me. It stayed.
The Sweetest Remedy by Jane Igharo
hate to say it, but this is a very Nigerian experience: family discovers a secret child after the father dies. It’s so common, we’ve almost stopped being surprised.
What makes The Sweetest Remedy unique is that it centers the perspective we often overlook — the child who was left behind. We’re quick to empathize with the rage of the siblings kept in the dark, but we rarely sit with the trauma of the one whose existence was hidden.
This novel gave nuance to that experience. The main character wrestles with grief over a connection she’ll never get to form, while also being forced to confront the cowardice of the parent who kept her in the shadows.
The world of this story is full of contradictions: love and resentment, grief and discovery, pride and shame — all held together in the same space. And that’s what made it sit deeply with me. It didn’t try to resolve the mess. It just honored that sometimes, we still have to move forward in it.
Stay With Me by Ayobami Adebayo
Stay With Me felt like a painful memior of African womanhood. It touched on the psychological warfare that happens when your most intimate relationship is founded on dishonesty and deception. The transfer of shame and disgrace that is thrown on African women for the sake of protecting the image and ego of men is frightening. It is equally devastating for men who do not have room to fall short gracefully or else risk loosing their masculine status. Their desperation to maintaining respect while simultaneously trying to love creates a toxic environment that sucks the life out of everything in vicinity.
Stay With Me held space for the different dimensions of being, especially for those who are expected to hold everything together, even when they are quietly falling apart. Maybe that’s what sat deepest within me: the courage to tell the truth about the quiet violence of unmet expectations. This novel did not offer a resolution that felt clean or comfortable. But it did offer honesty. Brutal, beautiful, breathtaking honesty.
Sometimes the most haunting stories are the ones that you feel you can actually touch because they could easily come from someone you know.
Dele Weds Destiny by Tomi Adesina
If you know anything about Nigerian weddings, you know the bride and groom are not the only main characters.
I say that because the title Destiny Weds Dele suggests a love story or wedding drama. While that is present, the heart of this novel lies elsewhere. Instead, we’re ushered into the world of another main character in any Nigerian wedding: the mother of the bride. More than that, we’re invited into a story about her and friendship. This novel unpacks the decades old friendship of women who have lived life in different directions but remain connected by who they once were.
This book sat deeply with me because it asked a question I’ve never stopped asking:
What happens when the friend group that once held you together grows apart? I’ve had women in my life who were once everything — the prayer partners, the midnight-call responders, the laughter that softened survival. Life happened to us. In different ways, in different directions. Some bonds were stretched thin. Others quietly unraveled.
And while I may not fully know what happens after distance sets in, Destiny Weds Dele gave me a peek into what it looks like to reconnect after holding onto threads of the bond over years.
