Nigerian writer and author of Not So Terrible People, Nana Sule, says it takes a special kind of grace to find and write about joy as a writer from Africa: ‘I believe writers are very much shaped by the times they live in. Part of our role is to document the world around us, and for many African writers, that means confronting trauma and hardship. It takes a special grace to find and write about joy, honestly.’
First Draft is our interview column, featuring authors and other prominent figures on books, reading, and writing.
Our questions are italicized.
What books or kinds of books did you read growing up?
Some titles that stand out from those early years include Grace Nma Osifo’s Dizzy Angel, Kola Onadipe’s Ralia the Sugar Girl and The Slave Boy, Cyprian Ekwensi’s Passport of Mallam Ilia, An African Night Entertainment and The Drummer Boy, and Anezi Okoro’s One Week, One Trouble. I read a lot of Lantern and Pacesetter books too. I also read newspapers regularly. In school, we read a number of plays, one of which was Felicia Onyewadume’s Echoes of Hard Times. I also discovered Zainab Alkali and Buchi Emecheta around that time. Somewhere in senior secondary school, my taste shifted toward thrillers. I became obsessed with Mary Higgins Clark, Sidney Sheldon, Robert Patterson, Ken Follett and James Hadley Chase.
If your life so far was a series of texts, which text (fiction or non-fiction) represents you at this moment?
I would say The Kindness of Enemies by Leila Aboulela. I find myself in a season where I am revisiting personal history and seeking reconnection. Unlike the protagonist, I am not in my mid-thirties, and I do have chosen love around me, but I am actively interrogating what family truly means, what home feels like and how much of what I call ‘progress’ is genuine when it is rooted more in capitalism than in heart.
I am also reflecting on what it looks like to fully embrace all the branches that have made me the person I am, this stunning tree with roots, which I have perhaps spent too long running from. I think I’ve been masking that distance with writing, teaching, and traveling. But history is inevitable. I think we all go back, in some way, somehow.
What’s the last thing you read that changed your mind about something?
I finally finished reading Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China by Jung Chang, and it is making me think about power and systems. I used to believe that change—real, structural change—is possible. But there is something about reading history—and this one is making me confront a difficult truth: the ‘powerful’ class has always ‘othered’ and harmed the rest, and they likely always will. I am starting to believe that no amount of writing, organizing or resistance seems to shake that foundation in a meaningful way, but I really hope I am wrong. So now, I am leaning into a different kind of clarity: maybe what we need isn’t reform, but a full-on reset. An apocalypse, even. Something radical enough to make space for something completely new. Or for nothing at all.
I am actively interrogating what family truly means, what home feels like and how much of what I call ‘progress’ is genuine when it is rooted more in capitalism than in heart.
What is your writing process: edit as you write or draft first, then edit?
I definitely draft first. Interestingly, my Achilles heel is research. I fall in deep and often lose myself in it. But once I manage to pull myself out, I write like I am possessed by the muses.
The first draft usually comes pouring out of me but then comes another weakness: I tend to let the writing lie fallow. And if I don’t have an accountability partner nudging me along, that fallow period can stretch into months, or even years.
What was your process for writing your debut collection, Not So Terrible People?
The collection began in fragments. I wrote the second story, ‘Owanyi’, first. I think around 2015, at least I think it was then. The rest of the stories came together between 2018 and 2023, with long stretches of rest between each one, except for the last four or so that were written in a bit of a rush. Once I had made the decision to interconnect the stories, they came in a rush because I needed to complete them to see how that connection would work. Once the draft was done, I let it sit. Then I handed it over to my friends, my loves, my first readers, who read it with care and offered generous, thoughtful feedback.
What inspired this collection of short stories?
Jinns. Just kidding. Helon Habila’s Waiting for an Angel inspired the structure. His work gave me the insight to interconnect the stories and approach the collection as a unified whole. As for the stories themselves, I wanted to honour my roots, the places that shaped me, the cultures and stories I grew up around. I also felt a deep need to document the terrorist attack on the Kaduna–Abuja train. It felt urgent and necessary. I wanted to make sure it is remembered.
And what was the trickiest/most challenging story to write?
That would be ‘Ohunene’, without question. I rewrote that story in so many ways, I nearly lost my mind. It just wouldn’t settle. Eventually, I found my way into it through diary entries. That form gave it the space and intimacy it needed. It was a story that had to be told, but it dragged. The pacing was slow, and for a long time, it didn’t feel like it belonged in the collection. It took a lot of patience and a little surrender to make it fit.
What’s one thing about the reactions to the book so far that surprised you?
I have been most surprised by everyone’s favourite characters. I was so sure readers would be obsessed with Sunday. I loved Sunday and had such a good time writing him. But apparently, I’m alone in that! Everyone I’ve asked has picked just about anyone but Sunday as their favourite.
The ‘powerful’ class has always ‘othered’ and harmed the rest, and they likely always will.
What’s the most meaningful piece of writing advice you’ve ever received?
‘Stop writing at the part where the story is interesting.’ I honestly cannot remember who said it. I probably heard it from a writer I must have stumbled upon going down my many YouTube rabbit holes. I like to play videos of writers in conversation while I’m cleaning or designing, and this particular advice stuck. It helped me finish the first draft of my current work-in-progress, which is a novel. So, I get bored easily and used to think I would never be able to finish a novel. But stopping at a twist or an exciting scene really worked for me. I would keep thinking about the story and itching to return to it. It made me want to get everything else out of the way so I could sit down and write. Total game changer.
And what’s the first book you read that made you think you wanted to be a writer?
It was not a book, actually. For me, writing has always felt inevitable. I think no matter how you ran the simulation of my life, I would have somehow end up a writer. At least, unless you removed the constant variables: my parents. My mum taught me to read and write really early, and my dad filled our lives with stories, movies, TV shows and newspapers. He had me summarizing newspaper articles and writing out full episodes of shows he had missed, instead of having me narrate them to him verbally. I would sit and write it all down. So, in a way, it wasn’t just books that shaped me, it was my parents, it was movies, it was newspapers.
You also co-own a bookstore in Kano called The Third Space. What inspired you to start selling books?
I wanted to create a space where creatives, especially writers, could come in and, for a small token, read, write and connect with others. Selling books just felt like a natural extension of that. It wasn’t the main idea at first, but it fit right in with the vision of building a home away from home for creatives.
What challenges have you faced running a bookstore in Kano? How have you navigated these challenges?
The first story in Not So Terrible People, ‘Amal’, is, in some way, a documentation of the struggles we have faced trying to set up The Third Space. One of the biggest challenges has been funding. We have had investors who wanted to take over completely, to basically own The Third Space while we worked for them. We have written countless applications and proposals that did not pan out. That pushed us to start the online bookstore, partly as a way to raise funds. Sales have been encouraging, but every kobo goes right back into the business. Another challenge is learning. Running a business is not easy, especially when you are juggling it with other things. I work a nine-to-five, and my partner is a medical lab scientist who is sometimes on call. So, we are constantly trying to squeeze in time to learn and grow the business. We have taken courses, met with business coaches and asked for advice wherever we could get it. It has been interesting, humbling, and necessary. We are hoping to finally open our doors soon. Fingers crossed.
What’s the most surprising bestseller you’ve seen in your store?
Pickled Moments by Nasiba Babale. I wouldn’t say it was surprising that it sold well. She put in a lot of work and had built a solid community around poetry, so I knew there would be interests. But the numbers, and how quickly it moved? That surprised me. It flew off the shelves in such a short time.
For me, writing has always felt inevitable. I think no matter how you ran the simulation of my life, I would have somehow end up a writer.
What book(s) do you find most difficult to keep in stock, and what makes it so elusive?
Fyodor Dostoevsky’s books. They never actually make it to the shelf. We get so many requests before we even source them, and when we do stock extra copies, they disappear fast. It’s like a spoon in a Nigerian home. It just vanishes. It never stays around for long.
You can only read one book for the rest of your life. It’s:
It would be either The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas or Waiting for an Angel by Helon Habila. I can’t decide between the two. Both have stayed with me over the years for very different reasons.
What’s the last great book someone recommended to you?
My business partner, Nasiba Babale, recommended Segu by Maryse Condé. Just brilliant, brilliant work.
Which three books from/on northern Nigeria should everyone be reading at this moment?
The Madhouse by TJ Benson; Nasiba Babale’s Pickled Moments; The Incredible Dreams of Garba Dakaskus by Umar Abubakar Sidi.
What is your favourite topic to write or read about these days?
I wrote a short story a few days ago because I have been consuming a lot of mining, conflict and geo-political stories. And so, I have been doing a lot of imaginative thinking about the possibility of Africa’s re-colonization. I believe it is already happening in subtle ways, but I am interested in exploring the idea of outright re-colonization. What that could look like and mean for us.
We need to honour, write, and market our own stories on our own terms.
What are you currently working on?
A novel.
Question from Ani Kayode Somtochukwu: A lot has been said about African literature and ‘poverty porn’. What role do you see for African writers in the struggle against economic oppression in Africa?
I believe writers are very much shaped by the times they live in. Part of our role is to document the world around us, and for many African writers, that means confronting trauma and hardship. It takes a special grace to find and write about joy, honestly. There is, of course, the reality of marketability, which makes many writers consider what will appeal to global audiences, particularly in the global North. And yes, writers have to make a living in this capitalist system, so I understand and empathize with these pressures. One way to bridge this gap and promote stories that feel genuine (not to say stories about hardship are not genuine) is by investing more in local publishing across Africa. We must honour, write and market our own stories on our own terms. That will help shift narratives and support economic empowerment in African literary spaces.
Bonus: Please suggest a question for a future author’s First Draft
How do you balance staying true to your vision with diverging feedback from editors?
Who should we interview next?
Olayinka Yakub⎈
We want to hear what you think about this interview. Submit a letter to the editors by writing to editors@republic.com.ng.