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Sing Me a Circle: Love, Loss, and a Home in Time
"All points on a circle are always the same distance from the center." These exquisite personal essays trace the orbit of author Samina Najmi as she reflects on events, people, and places that shape her vision of the world. Whether she finds herself in Pakistan, England, or the United States, she keeps her family and her love of stories firmly at the center of her life. As Najmi navigates the process of forging her identity as a professor and mother, her extended family inspires, haunts, and stirs her to action. Through sorrows and singing, questions and growth, she passes along a centering love of family and beauty to her children. And like the unsung writers in her family, Najmi seeks home in time and on the page.
- GenresMemoir
336 pages, Paperback
Published October 1, 2025
1 person is currently reading
3362 people want to read
About the author
Samina Najmi
12 books18 followersSamina Najmi teaches multiethnic US literatures at California State University, Fresno. Her personal essays have appeared in over thirty literary journals, including World Literature Today. Her memoir-in-essays, Sing Me a Circle: Love, Loss, and a Home in Time, won the 2024 Aurora Polaris Award in creative nonfiction and will be published by Trio House Press on Oct 1, 2025. Daughter of multigenerational displacements, Samina grew up in London and Karachi before arriving in Boston for graduate school. She has lived in California's Central Valley since 2006 and watched with wonder her children, her students, and her citrus grow. For more on Sing Me a Circle and Samina's other publications, come visit https://saminanajmi.com
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
November 20, 2025
A wonderful piece about identity and history and appreciation of those who have come before us. Broken into vignettes and a poem woven throughout the text, Najmi made me laugh but also brought me to tears. Her stories resonated with me as a 50-something woman with her many universal themes.
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January 6, 2026In Sing Me a Circle, Samina Najmi took me around the world and back again. From Karachi to Fresno to Gaza and elsewhere, Najmi masterfully weaves historical background with present-day experiences, always mindful, and reminding her reader, that wherever we go, we bring some of where we’ve been with us, and leave some of ourselves, too.
Enmeshed in these stories of war, death, and loss are the stories of the author’s family and friends; is great love; are the author’s calls for a better world for all of us—where grief is held and looked at honestly, while at the same time, hope remains.
In Najmi’s Note of Thanks at the end of Sing Me A Circle, she credits her writing coach with the advice to “free the poet” in this book of essays. Its advice that Najmi obviously heeded, as the prose soars highest when her familial legacy of lyricism sings through in the stories. I heartily recommend Sing Me A Circle to those readers who want to be invited into a writer’s circle, where she will sing to you about how life is, for all of us, a complicated, gorgeous, painful, delicate gift.
Enmeshed in these stories of war, death, and loss are the stories of the author’s family and friends; is great love; are the author’s calls for a better world for all of us—where grief is held and looked at honestly, while at the same time, hope remains.
In Najmi’s Note of Thanks at the end of Sing Me A Circle, she credits her writing coach with the advice to “free the poet” in this book of essays. Its advice that Najmi obviously heeded, as the prose soars highest when her familial legacy of lyricism sings through in the stories. I heartily recommend Sing Me A Circle to those readers who want to be invited into a writer’s circle, where she will sing to you about how life is, for all of us, a complicated, gorgeous, painful, delicate gift.
November 1, 2025
In this collection of linked essays, Samina Najmi explores the intersections of culture, home and love. She writes, "Lately I keep returning to the idea that all linearity is a circularity in disguise--a shape that becomes visible only when we zoom out through the lens of time." In this poetic and beautifully told memoir, Najmi traces her identity and her links with her family while exploring the losses and displacements she has experienced. Her resiliency and descriptions of her home and family stayed with me.
November 25, 2025
a rich and wonderful untangling and rumination on loved ones, happenstances, and the miraculous nature of family history (sonder...?). i forgot this was a collection of essays until i started seeing the same threads run through different 'chapters'. it did a great job of really showing the inter-connectivity of all things in life - both how common it is, but also how extraordinary it is for everyone. also i learned a lot about geopolitics !!!
November 20, 2025
Najmi is a masterful storyteller, inviting you to contemplate home and place and belonging alongside her story.
December 17, 2025
Beautiful, broke my heart
June 21, 2025
Book Review: Sing Me a Circle: Love, Loss, and a Home in Time by Samina Najmi
As a female sociologist and public health professional, I approached Najmi’s memoir-essay hybrid with deep appreciation for its intersectional exploration of identity, displacement, and intergenerational resilience. The circular motif—both structural and thematic—resonated powerfully, mirroring sociological frameworks of cyclical migration and public health’s emphasis on community as a stabilizing force amid trauma.
Critical Engagement and Emotional Resonance
Najmi’s lyrical prose and fragmented narrative style initially disoriented me, yet this very fragmentation mirrored the dissonance of diasporic existence. Her reflections on straddling Pakistan, England, and the U.S. evoked Audre Lorde’s biomythography, blending personal and political with raw honesty. I admired how she interrogates academia’s unspoken hierarchies (particularly as a woman of color), though I wished for more explicit critique of institutional barriers. Her portrayal of familial love as both anchor and weight—especially the gendered expectations of caregiving—struck a chord, recalling public health research on immigrant women’s mental health burdens.
However, the book’s introspective focus occasionally sidelines broader structural analysis. While Najmi poignantly captures microaggressions and cultural hybridity, she rarely connects these experiences to systemic racism or global health inequities—a missed opportunity to bridge the personal and political.
Constructive Criticism
-Structural Context: The essays would benefit from grounding individual experiences in sociopolitical histories (e.g., post-9/11 Islamophobia, NHS disparities for immigrants).
-Health Equity Lens: Najmi’s allusions to somatic stress (e.g., “haunting” familial legacies) invite but omit engagement with trauma theory or community health models.
-Intersectional Depth: While gender and culture are central, disability and class remain underexplored in her identity matrix.
Why This Book Matters
Sing Me a Circle is a testament to storytelling as survival. For sociologists, it models autoethnography’s power; for public health practitioners, it underscores how narrative medicine can heal fractured identities. Najmi’s “centering love” ultimately challenges readers to redefine home—not as place, but as continuous becoming.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss for the free review copy. This book lingers like a half-remembered lullaby—achingly intimate yet universally resonant.
Reviewer’s Note: Pair with The Best We Could Do (Thi Bui) for visual memoir parallels or Medical Apartheid (Washington) for structural health critiques. A luminous, if occasionally myopic, contribution.
As a female sociologist and public health professional, I approached Najmi’s memoir-essay hybrid with deep appreciation for its intersectional exploration of identity, displacement, and intergenerational resilience. The circular motif—both structural and thematic—resonated powerfully, mirroring sociological frameworks of cyclical migration and public health’s emphasis on community as a stabilizing force amid trauma.
Critical Engagement and Emotional Resonance
Najmi’s lyrical prose and fragmented narrative style initially disoriented me, yet this very fragmentation mirrored the dissonance of diasporic existence. Her reflections on straddling Pakistan, England, and the U.S. evoked Audre Lorde’s biomythography, blending personal and political with raw honesty. I admired how she interrogates academia’s unspoken hierarchies (particularly as a woman of color), though I wished for more explicit critique of institutional barriers. Her portrayal of familial love as both anchor and weight—especially the gendered expectations of caregiving—struck a chord, recalling public health research on immigrant women’s mental health burdens.
However, the book’s introspective focus occasionally sidelines broader structural analysis. While Najmi poignantly captures microaggressions and cultural hybridity, she rarely connects these experiences to systemic racism or global health inequities—a missed opportunity to bridge the personal and political.
Constructive Criticism
-Structural Context: The essays would benefit from grounding individual experiences in sociopolitical histories (e.g., post-9/11 Islamophobia, NHS disparities for immigrants).
-Health Equity Lens: Najmi’s allusions to somatic stress (e.g., “haunting” familial legacies) invite but omit engagement with trauma theory or community health models.
-Intersectional Depth: While gender and culture are central, disability and class remain underexplored in her identity matrix.
Why This Book Matters
Sing Me a Circle is a testament to storytelling as survival. For sociologists, it models autoethnography’s power; for public health practitioners, it underscores how narrative medicine can heal fractured identities. Najmi’s “centering love” ultimately challenges readers to redefine home—not as place, but as continuous becoming.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss for the free review copy. This book lingers like a half-remembered lullaby—achingly intimate yet universally resonant.
Reviewer’s Note: Pair with The Best We Could Do (Thi Bui) for visual memoir parallels or Medical Apartheid (Washington) for structural health critiques. A luminous, if occasionally myopic, contribution.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews