Genre Fiction
![Nnedi Okorafor - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_a_nnedi_okorafor.jpg)
Who Fears Death
Now optioned as a TV series for HBO, with executive producer George R. R. Martin!
An award-winning literary author enters the world of magical realism with her World Fantasy Award-winning novel of a remarkable woman in post-apocalyptic Africa.
In a post-apocalyptic Africa, the world has changed in many ways; yet in one region genocide between tribes still bloodies the land. A woman who has survived the annihilation of her village and a terrible rape by an enemy general wanders into the desert, hoping to die. Instead, she gives birth to an angry baby girl with hair and skin the color of sand. Gripped by the certainty that her daughter is different-special-she names her Onyesonwu, which means "Who fears death?" in an ancient language.
It doesn't take long for Onye to understand that she is physically and socially marked by the circumstances of her conception. She is Ewu-a child of rape who is expected to live a life of violence, a half-breed rejected by her community. But Onye is not the average Ewu. Even as a child, she manifests the beginnings of a remarkable and unique magic. As she grows, so do her abilities, and during an inadvertent visit to the spirit realm, she learns something terrifying: someone powerful is trying to kill her.
Desperate to elude her would-be murderer and to understand her own nature, she embarks on a journey in which she grapples with nature, tradition, history, true love, and the spiritual mysteries of her culture, and ultimately learns why she was given the name she bears: Who Fears Death.
An award-winning literary author enters the world of magical realism with her World Fantasy Award-winning novel of a remarkable woman in post-apocalyptic Africa.
In a post-apocalyptic Africa, the world has changed in many ways; yet in one region genocide between tribes still bloodies the land. A woman who has survived the annihilation of her village and a terrible rape by an enemy general wanders into the desert, hoping to die. Instead, she gives birth to an angry baby girl with hair and skin the color of sand. Gripped by the certainty that her daughter is different-special-she names her Onyesonwu, which means "Who fears death?" in an ancient language.
It doesn't take long for Onye to understand that she is physically and socially marked by the circumstances of her conception. She is Ewu-a child of rape who is expected to live a life of violence, a half-breed rejected by her community. But Onye is not the average Ewu. Even as a child, she manifests the beginnings of a remarkable and unique magic. As she grows, so do her abilities, and during an inadvertent visit to the spirit realm, she learns something terrifying: someone powerful is trying to kill her.
Desperate to elude her would-be murderer and to understand her own nature, she embarks on a journey in which she grapples with nature, tradition, history, true love, and the spiritual mysteries of her culture, and ultimately learns why she was given the name she bears: Who Fears Death.
Editorial Reviews
Praise for Who Fears Death:
"Haunting and absolutely brilliant. My heart and guts are all turned inside out." -John Green, New York Times-bestselling author of The Fault in Our Stars
"Who Fears Death is one of the most striking, chilling, truly fascinating, and all-around remarkable novels I've read in a very long time." -Peter S. Beagle, bestselling author of The Last Unicorn
"Nnedi Okorafor is American-born but her Nigerian blood runs strong, lacing her work with fantasy, magic and true African reality. Many people need to read Who Fears Death, it's an important book." -Nawal El Saadawi, bestselling author of Woman at Point Zero
"To compare author Nnedi Okorafor to the late Octavia E. Butler would be easy to do, but this simple comparison should not detract from Okorafor's unique storytelling gift." -New York Journal of Books
"Both wondrously magical and terribly realistic." -The Washington Post
"Believable, nuanced characters of color and an unbiased view of an Africa full of technology, mysticism, culture clashes and true love." -Ebony Magazine (editor's pick)
"A fantastical, magical blend of grand storytelling." -Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"Beautifully written, this is dystopian fantasy at its very best. Expertly exploring issues of race, gender, and cultural identity, Okorafor blends future fantasy with the rhythm and feel of African storytelling. " -Library Journal (starred review)
"Her pacing is tight. Her expository sections sing like poetry. Descriptions of paranormal people and battles are disturbingly vivid and palpable. But most crucial to the book's success is how the author slowly transforms Onye's pursuit of her rapist father from a personal vendetta to a struggle to transform the social systems that created him." -T...
"Haunting and absolutely brilliant. My heart and guts are all turned inside out." -John Green, New York Times-bestselling author of The Fault in Our Stars
"Who Fears Death is one of the most striking, chilling, truly fascinating, and all-around remarkable novels I've read in a very long time." -Peter S. Beagle, bestselling author of The Last Unicorn
"Nnedi Okorafor is American-born but her Nigerian blood runs strong, lacing her work with fantasy, magic and true African reality. Many people need to read Who Fears Death, it's an important book." -Nawal El Saadawi, bestselling author of Woman at Point Zero
"To compare author Nnedi Okorafor to the late Octavia E. Butler would be easy to do, but this simple comparison should not detract from Okorafor's unique storytelling gift." -New York Journal of Books
"Both wondrously magical and terribly realistic." -The Washington Post
"Believable, nuanced characters of color and an unbiased view of an Africa full of technology, mysticism, culture clashes and true love." -Ebony Magazine (editor's pick)
"A fantastical, magical blend of grand storytelling." -Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"Beautifully written, this is dystopian fantasy at its very best. Expertly exploring issues of race, gender, and cultural identity, Okorafor blends future fantasy with the rhythm and feel of African storytelling. " -Library Journal (starred review)
"Her pacing is tight. Her expository sections sing like poetry. Descriptions of paranormal people and battles are disturbingly vivid and palpable. But most crucial to the book's success is how the author slowly transforms Onye's pursuit of her rapist father from a personal vendetta to a struggle to transform the social systems that created him." -T...
Readers Top Reviews
Andrew Fontenelle
Set in a post apocalyptic Africa, "Who Fears Death" is a science fantasy tale of magic and myth. Onyesonwu, the hero of our story, is a person born out of the violent conflict between two groups of people, the Okeke and the Nuru. Yet she has a specific and unique role to play in the unfolding events in that conflict. The characters we meet along in this tale (good and bad) are well developed and very interesting. I also felt that subjects which were raised in the book, such as violence, slavery, female circumcision, rape and racism were well dealt with by the author. And despite the things that happen in the lives of the people in the book there is always a feeling of hope! "Who Fears Death" is a well written and unique story which blends elements of traditional Africa into a speculative tale of the future. I would certainly recommend it.
SimonAndrew Fonte
On the surface this very well written book is a fantasy / sci-fi book situated in post-apocalyptic Africa. The people in this book have artefacts such as computers, they have a few pieces futuristic technology and they have some form of education with schools and apprenticeships. There are a few sorcerers who can perform powerful magic and connect to the spirit world, there are seers and there are creatures from the spirit world. But fundamentally they live in a third world country of farmers, craftsmen, soldiers and insurgents. The Okeke people are slaves of the Nuru and a genocide against the Okeke is happening. Traditions are strong and cruel - especially against girls (genital mutilation, male superiority) and anyone who is different such as children with a mixed Okeke / Nuru background - supersition is wide spread. The civil war is as dirty as civil wars tend to be: soldiers and insurgents are primarily marauders, killers, rapists. Civilians easily form up to a mob. Almost everyone is traumatised. The book describes the life of, Onyesonwu, who was conceived when a Nuru general raped her Okeke mother. As girl and as a child of rape the cards of this society are heavily stacked against her. But she grows up in a backwater town away from the genocide and always has some people around her who love and support her. She's got a strong, free-minded and occasionally impulsive spirit, is clever and has strong magical talents. And she's destined to change the world big time. When she's somewhere between 17 to 19 (it's mentioned but I forgot), about half way through the book, she's sent on the quest of her life: To stop her father from escalating the genocide even further and to change the world. And because questing on your own is a sad affair, her boyfriend and friends volunteer to join her. So far the classical fantasy / sci-fi book. But if you look closer, this is not about magic (fantasy) or awesome technologies (sci-fi) - it is about the world as it is. The civil war described here could be any African civil war today. The society closely resembles what I've read about contemporary African societies torn between a traditional, low tech world of myths, mystics and superstition on the one side and modern life on the other. In the way it is structured it tries to show (remind) the readers (of) the horrors of our world and educate us about the possibility of a better, more humane world. In that it does remind me a lot of Charles Dickens. Nnedi Okorafor achieves a great balance between real world horrors and love, between fantasy / sci-fi storytelling and educational mission. The book is well written and once I started reading it I couldn't put it down until I had finished it.
Jali HenrySimonAn
I was drawn to this book because I read a lot of fantasy and I'd love to see more fantasy books that aren't based on a variation of middle England! Nnedi Okorafor delivers in spades. The world she's created is rich, diverse and completely different from the average fantasy novel. It does cover some challenging themes (rape, child sexual abuse, female genital mutilation) but these are in keeping with the culture in which she's set her world. I really enjoyed it and am looking forward to reading more from this author.
B R SandersJali H
WHO FEARS DEATH, by Nnedi Okorafor, is not a book for the faint of heart. Told in retrospect to her captors by a woman facing execution—a woman who has changed the world around her in fundamental and unexpected ways and sacrificed herself to do it—the teller does not flinch away from the grisly and vicious details of her story. She revels in them. As much a book about hope and change as it is a book about the horrors of complacency, WHO FEARS DEATH is a book that embraces anger, and for that if nothing else, I loved it. TRIGGER WARNING: The book has roots in the real-world history of weaponized rape in the Sudan. In the book, Onyesonwu is the product of militarized rape: her Okeke (Black) mother is raped brutally by a Nuru (White) sorcerer, and then her mother is rejected by her husband. Onyesonwu spends her early childhood in the deserts alone with her mother. Her mother notices the child has an affinity for juju—magic—and despite her child’s visible biracial features decides she has to seek out a township and raise her among other people. It’s not easy—people like Onyesonwu, the products of Nuru/Okeke rape are called Ewu and presumed to be inherently violent, inherently broken due to the means of their conception. Finding a village where they are accepted is the first of many battles here. Onyesonwu grows up and grows into her magic. She becomes a shapeshifter. She demands to be mentored, going up against old barriers that would restrict her both about her being Ewu and a woman. She falls in love. She builds friendships. She learns that her world is being torn apart; she learns of a prophecy that she might be the one to heal it. She goes through an initiation that reveals her own death and unlocks her powerful magic. She prepares herself for the inevitable showdown with the powerful force of a man who created her. Across the narrative, the book manages to tackle genocide, rape, female circumcision, cultural relativism, colorism, and a host of other issues with a deft hand. Onyesonwu’s voice is always harsh, always sharp-tongued and brutal. Always questioning. Onyesonwu was a narrator I related to immediately. She was so brash, so defiant. So deeply capable of love, and at the same time so reactive and defensive. Entitled and yet so used to being refused. So angry. I loved her anger. I was moved by anger. I connected with it. The book exulted in her anger. It was always her greatest strength. When it was positioned as a weakness—and occasionally it was—it was always done so by the men around her, and thus the weakness they claimed was undercut by the fact that they saw her as an obvious threat to their masculinity. Even the love of her life, Mwita, her healer and companion, fell prey to this. But none of the women ever told her she was too angry. And when she fought for them, when she avenged them, the men did not think her to...
Don YuB R Sanders
I won't bore you with spoilers, but I was delightfully mislead by this cover image. Nnedi does it again with this novel, drawing you in and holding you glued to every word from cover to cover.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter 1
My Father's Face
My life fell apart when I was sixteen. Papa died. He had such a strong heart, yet he died. Was it the heat and smoke from his blacksmithing shop? It's true that nothing could take him from his work, his art. He loved to make the metal bend, to obey him. But his work only seemed to strengthen him; he was so happy in his shop. So what was it that killed him? To this day I can't be sure. I hope it had nothing to do with me or what I did back then.
Immediately after he died, my mother came running out of their bedroom sobbing and throwing herself against the wall. I knew then that I would be different. I knew in that moment that I would never again be able to fully control the fire inside me. I became a different creature that day, not so human. Everything that happened later, I now understand, started then.
The ceremony was held on the outskirts of town, near the sand dunes. It was the middle of the day and terribly hot. His body lay on a thick white cloth surrounded by a garland of braided palm fronds. I knelt there in the sand next to his body, saying my last good-bye. I'll never forget his face. It didn't look like Papa's anymore. Papa's skin was dark brown, his lips were full. This face had sunken cheeks, deflated lips, and skin like gray-brown paper. Papa's spirit had gone elsewhere.
The back of my neck prickled. My white veil was a poor protection from people's ignorant and fearful eyes. By this time, everyone was always watching me. I clenched my jaw. Around me, women were on their knees weeping and wailing. Papa was dearly loved, despite the fact that he'd married my mother, a woman with a daughter like me-an Ewu daughter. That had long been excused as one of those mistakes even the greatest man can make. Over the wailing, I heard my mother's soft whimper. She had suffered the greatest loss.
It was her turn to have her last moment. Afterward, they'd take him for cremation. I looked down at his face one last time. I'll never see you again, I thought. I wasn't ready. I blinked and touched my chest. That's when it happened . . . when I touched my chest. At first, it felt like an itchy tingle. It quickly swelled into something greater.
The more I tried to get up, the more intense it got and the more my grief expanded. They can't take him, I thought frantically. There is still so much metal left in his shop. He hasn't finished his work! The sensation spread through my chest and radiated out to the rest of my body. I rounded my shoulders to hold it in. Then I started pulling it from the people around me. I shuddered and gnashed my teeth. I was filling with rage. Oh, not here! I thought. Not at Papa's ceremony! Life wouldn't leave me alone long enough to even mourn my dead father.
Behind me, the wailing stopped. All I heard was the gentle breeze. It was utterly eerie. Something was beneath me, in the ground, or maybe somewhere else. Suddenly, I was slammed with the pained emotions everyone around me had for Papa.
Instinctively, I laid my hand on his arm. People started screaming. I didn't turn around. I was too focused on what I had to do. Nobody tried to pull me away. No one touched me. My friend Luyu's uncle was once struck by lightning during a rare dry season Ungwa storm. He survived but he couldn't stop talking about how it felt like being violently shaken from the inside out. That's how I felt now.
I gasped with horror. I couldn't take my hand from Papa's arm. It was fused to him. My sand-colored skin flowed into to his gray-brown skin from my palm. A mound of mingled flesh.
I started screaming.
It caught in my throat and I coughed. Then I stared. Papa's chest was slowly moving up and down, up and down . . . he was breathing! I was both repulsed and desperately hopeful. I took a deep breath and cried, "Live, Papa! Live!"
A pair of hands settled on my wrists. I knew exactly whose they were. One of his fingers was broken and bandaged. If he didn't get his hands off me, I'd hurt him far worse than I had five days prior.
"Onyesonwu," Aro said into my ear, quickly taking his hands from my wrists. Oh, how I hated him. But I listened. "He's gone," he said. "Let go, so we can all be free of it."
My Father's Face
My life fell apart when I was sixteen. Papa died. He had such a strong heart, yet he died. Was it the heat and smoke from his blacksmithing shop? It's true that nothing could take him from his work, his art. He loved to make the metal bend, to obey him. But his work only seemed to strengthen him; he was so happy in his shop. So what was it that killed him? To this day I can't be sure. I hope it had nothing to do with me or what I did back then.
Immediately after he died, my mother came running out of their bedroom sobbing and throwing herself against the wall. I knew then that I would be different. I knew in that moment that I would never again be able to fully control the fire inside me. I became a different creature that day, not so human. Everything that happened later, I now understand, started then.
The ceremony was held on the outskirts of town, near the sand dunes. It was the middle of the day and terribly hot. His body lay on a thick white cloth surrounded by a garland of braided palm fronds. I knelt there in the sand next to his body, saying my last good-bye. I'll never forget his face. It didn't look like Papa's anymore. Papa's skin was dark brown, his lips were full. This face had sunken cheeks, deflated lips, and skin like gray-brown paper. Papa's spirit had gone elsewhere.
The back of my neck prickled. My white veil was a poor protection from people's ignorant and fearful eyes. By this time, everyone was always watching me. I clenched my jaw. Around me, women were on their knees weeping and wailing. Papa was dearly loved, despite the fact that he'd married my mother, a woman with a daughter like me-an Ewu daughter. That had long been excused as one of those mistakes even the greatest man can make. Over the wailing, I heard my mother's soft whimper. She had suffered the greatest loss.
It was her turn to have her last moment. Afterward, they'd take him for cremation. I looked down at his face one last time. I'll never see you again, I thought. I wasn't ready. I blinked and touched my chest. That's when it happened . . . when I touched my chest. At first, it felt like an itchy tingle. It quickly swelled into something greater.
The more I tried to get up, the more intense it got and the more my grief expanded. They can't take him, I thought frantically. There is still so much metal left in his shop. He hasn't finished his work! The sensation spread through my chest and radiated out to the rest of my body. I rounded my shoulders to hold it in. Then I started pulling it from the people around me. I shuddered and gnashed my teeth. I was filling with rage. Oh, not here! I thought. Not at Papa's ceremony! Life wouldn't leave me alone long enough to even mourn my dead father.
Behind me, the wailing stopped. All I heard was the gentle breeze. It was utterly eerie. Something was beneath me, in the ground, or maybe somewhere else. Suddenly, I was slammed with the pained emotions everyone around me had for Papa.
Instinctively, I laid my hand on his arm. People started screaming. I didn't turn around. I was too focused on what I had to do. Nobody tried to pull me away. No one touched me. My friend Luyu's uncle was once struck by lightning during a rare dry season Ungwa storm. He survived but he couldn't stop talking about how it felt like being violently shaken from the inside out. That's how I felt now.
I gasped with horror. I couldn't take my hand from Papa's arm. It was fused to him. My sand-colored skin flowed into to his gray-brown skin from my palm. A mound of mingled flesh.
I started screaming.
It caught in my throat and I coughed. Then I stared. Papa's chest was slowly moving up and down, up and down . . . he was breathing! I was both repulsed and desperately hopeful. I took a deep breath and cried, "Live, Papa! Live!"
A pair of hands settled on my wrists. I knew exactly whose they were. One of his fingers was broken and bandaged. If he didn't get his hands off me, I'd hurt him far worse than I had five days prior.
"Onyesonwu," Aro said into my ear, quickly taking his hands from my wrists. Oh, how I hated him. But I listened. "He's gone," he said. "Let go, so we can all be free of it."
