This pugnacious epistolary memoir by an embodied ‘ogbanje’ spirit is as fascinating for its disturbing self-absorption as for the brilliance of its writing
Akwaeke Emezi has been enjoying a moment in the literary limelight since the publication of their first novel, Freshwater, in 2018. The book received excellent reviews and was nominated for many literary prizes, some of which it won. It was followed in 2019 by Pet, a YA novel about a transgender teenager; the next year The Death of Vivek Oji went straight on to the New York Times bestseller list. This year, Emezi’s memoir, Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir, has been released. They make other writers who manage to squeak out a book once every three or four years look like slackers.
How do they do it, where do they get the time? Especially since they often seem to be on social media arguing with other writers (see the recent row with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie), former friends or literary prize organisers. Emezi clearly knows the value of high-profile social media fights: they get people talking about you.
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