Books like Co-Wives, Co-Widows — picked by fans

I’ve added this graphic novel to my list in part for nostalgic reasons. Although the book and its two sequels were published in the 2000s, they are all set in 1970s Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire, when I had the good fortune to live there. Aya is an adolescent girl living in the vibrant neighborhood of Yopougon, where everyone knows each other’s business. While she just wants to focus on her studies, she keeps getting distracted by the drama of those around her—from the boy-chasing machinations of her girlfriends to the foolish missteps of her parent's generation.

As a public health worker, I was moved by this beautiful novel, an homage to the courageous people who prevented Ebola from becoming a worldwide pandemic. Set in an unnamed country, most likely Guinea, it uses lyrical language and multiple points of view of those affected and infected by the virus—patients, health care providers, gravediggers, the bats who transmitted the virus to humans, and even an old baobab tree that observes the humans with detached wisdom. Using language both poetic and empathetic, Tadjo reminds us in this cautionary tale that Mother Nature is very much in charge.

I could not put this book down—and not just because it’s 90 pages long. The letter format instantly drew me into this candid conversation between two old friends grappling with the fallout of their upended marriages.

I love that Ramatoulaye shows no hint of judgment toward Aissatou about the different choices each woman made when faced with similar circumstances. I also appreciated Ramatoulaye’s frank reflections on her daughter’s opinion of her.

Jean is an accomplished student at the University of Douala who sets off with his best friend, Simon, to find Jean’s older brother, who has run away to pursue his dream of becoming a soccer star in Europe. Their trip is paved with danger but Jean is willing to face any perils in order to spend time with Simon, on whom he has a secret, unrequited crush. Despite the novel’s heavy themes of terrorism, child abuse, authoritarianism, homophobia, and the plight of undocumented immigrants, Lobe pulls off an entertaining, rollicking story that provides a wonderful snapshot of his country.

This is one of the funniest books I have ever read.

As the author attempts to drive from Central Africa to France, he captures the joys and thrills of traveling in Africa, along with the many challenges. I loved and recognized the litany of charming and fun characters he encounters who bring so many of Africa’s wonderful absurdities to life.

This book was a major inspiration for me as I wrote my book and it still makes me laugh, years later.

I have loved this book for 40 years and have read it almost annually.

Forsyth’s detailed descriptions of all aspects of the book make you think you are on the streets of London, in the meetings and the restaurants. While much of the action takes place abroad, its beating heart is London. When I lived there, I visited many of the places described.

I love how, years after my first reading, Zoo City still haunts me.

It’s set in South Africa, where Zinzi December has been ‘animalled’, after causing the death of her brother. All humans guilty of a death are magically attached to an animal, which also gives them psychic powers.

In Zinzi’s case, the animal is a sloth she can’t be separated from, also giving her the ability to find things. When she is asked to track down a missing woman, her quest explores the dark side of this world and sends this former drug addict on a violent and dangerous path to redemption.

This Arthur C Clarke Award-winning book is a dizzying read. I loved feeling as lost and uncertain as Zinzi the deeper into trouble the mystery sends her.

There are thousands of histories of Africa, but only this one ties together environment, economy, demography, and society. In just 300 pages Iliffe presents Africa’s history from the birth of humankind to the mid-1990s. His history of Africa is the story of hardship and social adjustment in which population numbers are not just the result of variable, though mostly unfavourable, environmental situations, but a tool of survival and progress. This social adjustability, different as it may be from European patterns, allowed the continent’s people to build one of the greatest civilisations on earth. It carried them through natural disasters, invasions, the slave trade, and colonial brutalities, but it struggles with the present pace of demographic expansion – the result of modern medicine and globalisation. 

Jeffrey Herbst also looks at the past and present of the African continent, and ecology and demography also come into his story. But his main subject is the specific nature of power and state in Sub–Saharan Africa and the inter-relations between the two. He traces this defining aspect of Africa’s reality through several centuries and presents it within the global context by drawing in experiences of self-organisation of power and state in other continents and regions. Continuity is for him the key to understanding the precolonial, colonial, and postcolonial past and even the future of the continent.

Rich in interesting and juicy detail, this account of governance in Africa presents a chronicle, rather than an analysis, of what was, and still is, wrong with the continent. Kenyon tells the story of state and power differently, basing it on personalities and circumstances, rather than ages-long continuities. His personalities are the corrupt leaders of seven unhappy countries, who managed to amass enormous power and keep it for decades. With such personalities come passions, greed, and immeasurable cruelty to their compatriots, all presented in intimate detail, as the author saw it all – he was there. But the global context does not go away. None of his “heroes” could have turned into the monsters they became without the interaction with and support, even if indirect, of global actors who needed the resources which their countries possess, natural or human.