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Nobody Killed Her
The nation sinks deep into mourning as news of former prime minister Rani Shah’s assassination arrives. Intelligence agencies, opposition leaders, the Army top brass, her closest relatives – all seem to be shifting in their chairs even as special investigative teams gear up to file a report. Conspiracy theories abound for there were many who stood to gain if she pulled out of the imminent elections. The needle of suspicion points most immediately to Madam Shah’s close confidante Nazneen Khan, who was seen sitting right beside her in the convoy and, oddly, escaped the bomb blast unscathed. Sabyn Javeri’s tale of intense friendship between two ambitious women unfolds in a country steeped in fanaticism and patriarchy. Set against a backdrop of intrigue and political machinations, this is a novel about love, loyalty, obsession and deception. Nobody Kills Her is dark noir meets pacey courtroom drama. An electrifying debut you will rave about to everyone you meet.
432 pages, Paperback
Published March 3, 2017
18 people are currently reading
236 people want to read
About the author
Sabyn Javeri
3 books17 followersSabyn Javeri was born in Pakistan and now lives between London and Karachi, where she teaches Creative Writing at the university level. A graduate of the University of Oxford, she has a PhD from the University of Leicester. Her short stories have been published in literary journals such as The South Asian Review, The London Magazine, The Oxonian Review, Wasafiri, Trespass, Bengal Lights, Sugar Mule and in award-winning anthologies and creative writing text books. She has also received the Oxonion Review Short Story Award and was shortlisted for the first Tibor Jones Award.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews
June 9, 2018
There’s this shelf I have on goodreads which I call ‘Good idea, bad execution’. This novel is the lord and master of that shelf.
Weirdly enough, I can’t exactly pinpoint why it’s that bad. On the surface, it looks so good. Two complex female characters whose main focus is politics and intrigue and each other. It can’t get better than that. Except, turns out, it very much can.
Nazo, our protagonist, is the personal assistant to Rani Shah, who is heir to a political dynasty. Except that for this title, you can replace Rani Shah with Benazir Bhutto and Nazo with Bhutto’s real life political secretary Nahid Khan. I’m not sure how closely this book follows the bond between these women, but most of it is pretty parallel in terms to politics, husband, scandals, etc. In retrospect, the reason I didn’t love this book at all might have had to do something with its political leanings. I’m not a big fan of politics, and I’ve never pretended otherwise, so a book only retains my attention if it’s unusually compelling in terms of its intrigues in government dealings - The Goblin Emperor, while not set in our times, has the best political intrigue set-up I’ve ever read, even if it is a character driven novel. This book did not manage to make its politics compelling enough, or for that matter make me care about its characters enough. Which is quite sad since Pakistani politics can make for great entertainment, given their crazy, often unbelievable, and mostly volatile nature.
You slammed the telephone into the wall after yet another call about delayed elections. You slapped a party worker reading a paper that blared the headline ‘No Polls Ahead’. You knocked off the radio when it announced conditions were too hostile for electioneers. You nearly smashed the TV screen during the General’s address in which he told the public that he simply could not put the country’s future into the hands of corrupt and power-hungry disbelievers – in other words, politicians. But it was only when the bastard announced that women could neither vote nor contest for office that you broke down.
Again and again I am amazed at how frustrating and boring reading this book was, given that there were so many things on the surface I could have loved. There were paragraphs in the text that I wanted to highlight, but they came so rarely and the book stretched on for so long that by the end I was just begging it to end. Even though we follow the story of Nazo, a refugee whose family has been killed by a military dictator (a stand-in for General Zia-ul-Haq), and through Nazo the story of Rani Shah, whose father (Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, of course) has been hanged by said dictator, it still manages to retain none of the fascination with history while meandering on in the manner of a never-ending soap opera.
In a discussion with one of my friends, she pointed out that this story could be a really good series. It has enough twists and turns that a really good episodic format season could be made out of this. I agree, but also disagree because while the twists and turns are multiple, they are also multiple. My god, they’re never ending! I got sick of waiting for the book to end and the drama to finish. It’s all a circle of Rani being incompetent in Nazo’s eyes, who attempts to take the narrative into her hands with some political manoeuvring, who then finds out Rani had her own plans, so she plans something in return, and on and on and on. And even while I’m talking about this I realize how interesting it possibly sounds, but I remember the death-defying boredom I felt while reading it, and just no.
Suddenly you looked up at me and said, ‘Nazo, do you think I can do it alone? Do you really believe in me?’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘More than myself.’
‘Then let’s do it. It’s now or never.’
We also need to talk about Nazo’s obsession with Rani. Obsession is really an understatement here; Nazo’s mania when it comes to Rani’s life and her presence and her habits borders on creepy. At one point in the book Nazo is accussed of Schizophrenia to explain her obsession, which gave me all sorts of bad vibes for possibly really bad representation of mental illnesses.
Refugee didn’t look too happy to have me back in his kitchen, but I ignored his grumbling. After all, I was back where I belonged. In my rightful place. With you.
At the beginning though, I was quite happy with all the female protagonist focus. In fact, in terms of the Bechedel test, this book passes with flying colours. They talk about Rani’s relationship with her corrupt, manipulative husband (a stand-in for Asif Ali Zardari), and Nazo’s relationship with a soldier, but their conversations don’t just revolve around men. There are discussions about politics and women’s rights and how Rani is being controlled and how Nazo doesn’t understand the pressure of governance. Both these women are distinct in their opinions and their ways of being, and yet – I really can’t say it any other way – they are also so repetitive and bland and boring.
You were not the only one who’d lost interest in the General’s hide-and-seek elections. It was your pregnancy that dominated the media more these days. In fact, even the uncertainty of the elections was drowned by it. Instead of ‘Will he or won’t he call the elections?’, the question on people’s lips was, ‘Will she or won’t she quit after motherhood?’ It was hard enough for people to digest that a woman was vying for the top position, but a mother-to-be, out of the question.
What’s amazing about my dislike for this book was that it tackled so many important things in terms of fighting for the rights of women, which is an issue that’s particularly close to my heart. I’m waging a daily battle with sexism and misogyny wherever I go, so books which address this war path I’m on help balm my wounds. You would think this book would have been a welcome relief, because it’s very honest about how politics is a tough path to navigate for a woman. In fact, in terms of their gender, Rani and Nazo repeatedly traverse a path few have travelled before them. And again and again they discuss things that are so repeatedly frustrating about living in a country like Pakistan.
Truth is, Madam, if I was getting raped, it’d be better for me to kill my rapist than to go knocking for justice on the door of a society where a raped woman has to provide four eyewitnesses!
And while we’re on the topic of being frustrated in Pakistan, let’s talk sexuality! I remember back when I read A Case of Exploding Mangoes and just about fell off my chair at the realization that there were gay characters in it. I’m used to homosexuality in the books I read by our Western counterparts, but reading about it in the context of characters with Pakistani names is a whole new experience. So the fact that we had a bisexual protagonist in this book was still controversial and rare enough for me to be amazed at the fact that Sabyn Javeri actually fully embraced that part of Nazo’s being. And it wasn’t just hinted at either, so you can’t accuse this book of queerbaiting.
The maulanas were on your case. Every day a new slander on your character, a new insult, a new rumour. If you even stood next to a man, they had you sleeping with him. If you were photographed talking to one, you were deemed his mistress. If you were caught looking at one, he was proclaimed your dirty secret. Even the women around you were not spared. They dug up old photos of you and Yasmin in New York and proclaimed you lovers. Strangely, we were never linked.
So, ok, lgbtq representation, complex female characters, and lots of discussion about the right topics. And yet, so bad. So blah. How? I don’t get it. I’m tempted to blame the length, except long books have never put me off. Maybe it was the format of the book: in present time, Nazo is being blamed for orchestrating the assassination of Rani (this really isn’t a spoiler though), and is standing in court defending herself, while a lawyer attempts to question her in what is the most ridiculous court room dialogue ever. Now I’m no legal expert; my whole exposure to lawyers and judges has been ridiculous TV shows or pulpy thrillers. But there’s a difference between a scene in a courtroom that I want to read and a scene written for an Indian Star Plus serial. It’s hard to explain just how bad the courtroom drama was without you having read this book.
Prosecutor: I can see you hesitating. What is it? There is something you are not telling us. What are you holding back, Miss Khan?
Defendant: Some things must be held back. Should be held back, Omar Sir. With time, those unspoken words and secrets become like the air we inhale. Totally unnoticed but wholly necessary.
You can almost hear the dramatic background music, the camera zooming in, the wind blowing through the defendant’s hair as she holds forth on this spectacle. For god’s sake, it’s a court room. Can we cut out the dramatic dialogues, the cheesy pointlessness? Where are the facts, where is the smart back and forth? Where is the actual scene of importance?
Defendant: All I can say, Your Honour, is that politics is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby.
Ookay you crazy.
It’s just not good, that’s my point. It could have been so much better, but stupidity keeps cropping up. Take, for example, the random Urdu word that appears here and there. Now historically Pakistani authors have had a very complicated relationship with writing in English. They either italicize every random Urdu word, or they start describing what Eid is or how a dupatta looks or what qorma is made of. The problem with writing in English is, of course, the problem of whom your audience is. That, and also what your publisher’s policy is in terms of different languages. Overall though, most books remain consistent throughout, except of course in Nobody Killed Her, five random Urdu words come up. Why? If you’re going to write your whole damn book in English, what is with the five pointless words in another language?
but you know what they say about gold dust and lust – two things one can’t hide, chhupay na chhupti.
Idiocy galore. I rest my case.
Recommendation
It tries to do a lot of things right, and my best friend quite liked this book, so it’s clearly a matter of opinion. Personally, I could have done much more interesting things with my time than slog through this crap. Try it if you feel like you must.
***
ORIGINAL REVIEW
My god this book would just NOT END.
Review to come.
Weirdly enough, I can’t exactly pinpoint why it’s that bad. On the surface, it looks so good. Two complex female characters whose main focus is politics and intrigue and each other. It can’t get better than that. Except, turns out, it very much can.
Nazo, our protagonist, is the personal assistant to Rani Shah, who is heir to a political dynasty. Except that for this title, you can replace Rani Shah with Benazir Bhutto and Nazo with Bhutto’s real life political secretary Nahid Khan. I’m not sure how closely this book follows the bond between these women, but most of it is pretty parallel in terms to politics, husband, scandals, etc. In retrospect, the reason I didn’t love this book at all might have had to do something with its political leanings. I’m not a big fan of politics, and I’ve never pretended otherwise, so a book only retains my attention if it’s unusually compelling in terms of its intrigues in government dealings - The Goblin Emperor, while not set in our times, has the best political intrigue set-up I’ve ever read, even if it is a character driven novel. This book did not manage to make its politics compelling enough, or for that matter make me care about its characters enough. Which is quite sad since Pakistani politics can make for great entertainment, given their crazy, often unbelievable, and mostly volatile nature.
You slammed the telephone into the wall after yet another call about delayed elections. You slapped a party worker reading a paper that blared the headline ‘No Polls Ahead’. You knocked off the radio when it announced conditions were too hostile for electioneers. You nearly smashed the TV screen during the General’s address in which he told the public that he simply could not put the country’s future into the hands of corrupt and power-hungry disbelievers – in other words, politicians. But it was only when the bastard announced that women could neither vote nor contest for office that you broke down.
Again and again I am amazed at how frustrating and boring reading this book was, given that there were so many things on the surface I could have loved. There were paragraphs in the text that I wanted to highlight, but they came so rarely and the book stretched on for so long that by the end I was just begging it to end. Even though we follow the story of Nazo, a refugee whose family has been killed by a military dictator (a stand-in for General Zia-ul-Haq), and through Nazo the story of Rani Shah, whose father (Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, of course) has been hanged by said dictator, it still manages to retain none of the fascination with history while meandering on in the manner of a never-ending soap opera.
In a discussion with one of my friends, she pointed out that this story could be a really good series. It has enough twists and turns that a really good episodic format season could be made out of this. I agree, but also disagree because while the twists and turns are multiple, they are also multiple. My god, they’re never ending! I got sick of waiting for the book to end and the drama to finish. It’s all a circle of Rani being incompetent in Nazo’s eyes, who attempts to take the narrative into her hands with some political manoeuvring, who then finds out Rani had her own plans, so she plans something in return, and on and on and on. And even while I’m talking about this I realize how interesting it possibly sounds, but I remember the death-defying boredom I felt while reading it, and just no.
Suddenly you looked up at me and said, ‘Nazo, do you think I can do it alone? Do you really believe in me?’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘More than myself.’
‘Then let’s do it. It’s now or never.’
We also need to talk about Nazo’s obsession with Rani. Obsession is really an understatement here; Nazo’s mania when it comes to Rani’s life and her presence and her habits borders on creepy. At one point in the book Nazo is accussed of Schizophrenia to explain her obsession, which gave me all sorts of bad vibes for possibly really bad representation of mental illnesses.
Refugee didn’t look too happy to have me back in his kitchen, but I ignored his grumbling. After all, I was back where I belonged. In my rightful place. With you.
At the beginning though, I was quite happy with all the female protagonist focus. In fact, in terms of the Bechedel test, this book passes with flying colours. They talk about Rani’s relationship with her corrupt, manipulative husband (a stand-in for Asif Ali Zardari), and Nazo’s relationship with a soldier, but their conversations don’t just revolve around men. There are discussions about politics and women’s rights and how Rani is being controlled and how Nazo doesn’t understand the pressure of governance. Both these women are distinct in their opinions and their ways of being, and yet – I really can’t say it any other way – they are also so repetitive and bland and boring.
You were not the only one who’d lost interest in the General’s hide-and-seek elections. It was your pregnancy that dominated the media more these days. In fact, even the uncertainty of the elections was drowned by it. Instead of ‘Will he or won’t he call the elections?’, the question on people’s lips was, ‘Will she or won’t she quit after motherhood?’ It was hard enough for people to digest that a woman was vying for the top position, but a mother-to-be, out of the question.
What’s amazing about my dislike for this book was that it tackled so many important things in terms of fighting for the rights of women, which is an issue that’s particularly close to my heart. I’m waging a daily battle with sexism and misogyny wherever I go, so books which address this war path I’m on help balm my wounds. You would think this book would have been a welcome relief, because it’s very honest about how politics is a tough path to navigate for a woman. In fact, in terms of their gender, Rani and Nazo repeatedly traverse a path few have travelled before them. And again and again they discuss things that are so repeatedly frustrating about living in a country like Pakistan.
Truth is, Madam, if I was getting raped, it’d be better for me to kill my rapist than to go knocking for justice on the door of a society where a raped woman has to provide four eyewitnesses!
And while we’re on the topic of being frustrated in Pakistan, let’s talk sexuality! I remember back when I read A Case of Exploding Mangoes and just about fell off my chair at the realization that there were gay characters in it. I’m used to homosexuality in the books I read by our Western counterparts, but reading about it in the context of characters with Pakistani names is a whole new experience. So the fact that we had a bisexual protagonist in this book was still controversial and rare enough for me to be amazed at the fact that Sabyn Javeri actually fully embraced that part of Nazo’s being. And it wasn’t just hinted at either, so you can’t accuse this book of queerbaiting.
The maulanas were on your case. Every day a new slander on your character, a new insult, a new rumour. If you even stood next to a man, they had you sleeping with him. If you were photographed talking to one, you were deemed his mistress. If you were caught looking at one, he was proclaimed your dirty secret. Even the women around you were not spared. They dug up old photos of you and Yasmin in New York and proclaimed you lovers. Strangely, we were never linked.
So, ok, lgbtq representation, complex female characters, and lots of discussion about the right topics. And yet, so bad. So blah. How? I don’t get it. I’m tempted to blame the length, except long books have never put me off. Maybe it was the format of the book: in present time, Nazo is being blamed for orchestrating the assassination of Rani (this really isn’t a spoiler though), and is standing in court defending herself, while a lawyer attempts to question her in what is the most ridiculous court room dialogue ever. Now I’m no legal expert; my whole exposure to lawyers and judges has been ridiculous TV shows or pulpy thrillers. But there’s a difference between a scene in a courtroom that I want to read and a scene written for an Indian Star Plus serial. It’s hard to explain just how bad the courtroom drama was without you having read this book.
Prosecutor: I can see you hesitating. What is it? There is something you are not telling us. What are you holding back, Miss Khan?
Defendant: Some things must be held back. Should be held back, Omar Sir. With time, those unspoken words and secrets become like the air we inhale. Totally unnoticed but wholly necessary.
You can almost hear the dramatic background music, the camera zooming in, the wind blowing through the defendant’s hair as she holds forth on this spectacle. For god’s sake, it’s a court room. Can we cut out the dramatic dialogues, the cheesy pointlessness? Where are the facts, where is the smart back and forth? Where is the actual scene of importance?
Defendant: All I can say, Your Honour, is that politics is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby.
Ookay you crazy.
It’s just not good, that’s my point. It could have been so much better, but stupidity keeps cropping up. Take, for example, the random Urdu word that appears here and there. Now historically Pakistani authors have had a very complicated relationship with writing in English. They either italicize every random Urdu word, or they start describing what Eid is or how a dupatta looks or what qorma is made of. The problem with writing in English is, of course, the problem of whom your audience is. That, and also what your publisher’s policy is in terms of different languages. Overall though, most books remain consistent throughout, except of course in Nobody Killed Her, five random Urdu words come up. Why? If you’re going to write your whole damn book in English, what is with the five pointless words in another language?
but you know what they say about gold dust and lust – two things one can’t hide, chhupay na chhupti.
Idiocy galore. I rest my case.
Recommendation
It tries to do a lot of things right, and my best friend quite liked this book, so it’s clearly a matter of opinion. Personally, I could have done much more interesting things with my time than slog through this crap. Try it if you feel like you must.
***
ORIGINAL REVIEW
My god this book would just NOT END.
Review to come.
July 9, 2017
Reading ‘Nobody Killed Her’ is like watching a train heading for a crash. The train lurches and screeches, the sound so deafening, you feel your eardrums thumping in protest, the train carriages going off track. They knock everything down in their wake, the ground rumbling, terrified of being destroyed. You can hear the screams, the train’s siren, and the wheels squealing against the tracks. The thing about catastrophes is that you can never seem to look away, their beauty so alluring. So you watch the train head for an impending disaster, mouth agape. It is only when you reach the book’s ending that you find out if the train crashed at all or, despite it being impossible, survived. And that task I leave to you. The book does not just contain an answer to the train’s end; it also holds the explanation as to whether the train was Rani, or Nazo. Curiously enough, for every reader, the person embodying the train will differ and so will the choice to either wish the narrator dead or admire her guts.
The book depicts two different scenarios side by side: the trial against Nazneen Khan for Rani Shah’s murder, and Nazneen recounting her life chronologically, from her first meeting with Rani up until her death in the bombing at her rally. The story has a mundane start: Rani is portrayed as an enthusiastic politician with a desire to become the country’s Prime Minister and Nazo approaches her following an escape from the jihadists who had murdered her family before her very eyes. The subsequent chapters follow Rani as she prepares to run in the elections for the PM in New York with Nazo hell-bent on helping her in whatever way she can. For me, the story turned interesting when Rani, upon her arrival to her native land, was welcomed by an attack from the jihadists. Thus followed a complex story with a number of players manipulating each other, every character trying to grasp the maximum amount of power. Rani and Nazo begin their journey as employer and assistant and end it with the duo entangled in a battle of love and attention.
You can a read more detailed review of this in my article published in The News on Sunday :)
http://tns.thenews.com.pk/politics-fi...
The book depicts two different scenarios side by side: the trial against Nazneen Khan for Rani Shah’s murder, and Nazneen recounting her life chronologically, from her first meeting with Rani up until her death in the bombing at her rally. The story has a mundane start: Rani is portrayed as an enthusiastic politician with a desire to become the country’s Prime Minister and Nazo approaches her following an escape from the jihadists who had murdered her family before her very eyes. The subsequent chapters follow Rani as she prepares to run in the elections for the PM in New York with Nazo hell-bent on helping her in whatever way she can. For me, the story turned interesting when Rani, upon her arrival to her native land, was welcomed by an attack from the jihadists. Thus followed a complex story with a number of players manipulating each other, every character trying to grasp the maximum amount of power. Rani and Nazo begin their journey as employer and assistant and end it with the duo entangled in a battle of love and attention.
You can a read more detailed review of this in my article published in The News on Sunday :)
http://tns.thenews.com.pk/politics-fi...
March 14, 2017
Pageturner.
February 7, 2018
An innovative courtroom panache and akin to it a confessional diary of the protagonist Nazo constitute this book. In a society deep rooted in religious fanaticism and patriarchy, the story chronologically unfolds in a series of events that take place in the lives of the two lead ladies, Rani Shah, the first female prime minister of Pakistan, and Nazo her personal assistant. Both these characters embody, valour, resilience, and political sagacity.
Centring upon the murder of Benazir, this historical thriller reflects on how the fulcrum of power fluctuates between civilian government and army in Pakistan. Political absurdity, sexual fragility, love, intimacies, motherhood, exploitation, assault are some of the dominant motives.
Nazo evolves from a servant girl to a political rival of first female PM of Muslim world, which is stimulating. Likewise, Rani’s journey from exile to the throne amidst all odds is emblematic of female power. The feminist appeal of this novel gets strengthened further through the affectionate, albeit dithering, bond between Nazo and Rani, undermining even apparent class differences.
At points, Sabyn’s explicit references, though fictionalized, to political past of Pakistan seem to blur the distinction between fact and fiction. She is subtly reconstructing the power stakeholders and significant geopolitical issues of Pakistan through her narrator Nazo. Occasionally, I had a feel it has/had the potential to offend the feelings of the devotees of a certain political party. Courageously, there is a consistent bantering upon extremist elements of Pakistani society and its laws, especially hudod ordinance which still requires rape victims to provide four witnesses. All in all, a decent new addition to Anglophone Pakistani female fiction.
Centring upon the murder of Benazir, this historical thriller reflects on how the fulcrum of power fluctuates between civilian government and army in Pakistan. Political absurdity, sexual fragility, love, intimacies, motherhood, exploitation, assault are some of the dominant motives.
Nazo evolves from a servant girl to a political rival of first female PM of Muslim world, which is stimulating. Likewise, Rani’s journey from exile to the throne amidst all odds is emblematic of female power. The feminist appeal of this novel gets strengthened further through the affectionate, albeit dithering, bond between Nazo and Rani, undermining even apparent class differences.
At points, Sabyn’s explicit references, though fictionalized, to political past of Pakistan seem to blur the distinction between fact and fiction. She is subtly reconstructing the power stakeholders and significant geopolitical issues of Pakistan through her narrator Nazo. Occasionally, I had a feel it has/had the potential to offend the feelings of the devotees of a certain political party. Courageously, there is a consistent bantering upon extremist elements of Pakistani society and its laws, especially hudod ordinance which still requires rape victims to provide four witnesses. All in all, a decent new addition to Anglophone Pakistani female fiction.
March 29, 2017
A fantastic read on a fictionalised drama heavily reminiscent of Benazir Bhutto's political and personal life, although for readers who may not have lived during her era, may find the novel excessively lengthy and going about the very point, low on plotline progress, needlessly.
Relate-able as it was, it is narrated from the perspective of a lady who is close to and serves a political heiress, reflecting the latter's challenges, shades, hats and roles held by her.
It traverses her journey as an heiress, a woman who takes a steps towards achieving her goals, patriarchy and the speedbumps, cunning and conniving traits in the hunger for power, in reigning supreme, defying norms, life in a religiously inclined country trying to struggle its way out of fanatic entrapment; a woman who strongly believed in "Don't stop living for the fear of death."
This, as she is viewed, perhaps nudged and trudged on by a close aide, by a close aide and ally.
The book is laden with popular dialogue from political thrillers, novels, movies and television productions alike, adding weight and emphasis to the plot.
The biggest summary of the relationship shared by the two women as they journey from the start to the end of one's life, is "The love of power always wins over the power of love."
Relate-able as it was, it is narrated from the perspective of a lady who is close to and serves a political heiress, reflecting the latter's challenges, shades, hats and roles held by her.
It traverses her journey as an heiress, a woman who takes a steps towards achieving her goals, patriarchy and the speedbumps, cunning and conniving traits in the hunger for power, in reigning supreme, defying norms, life in a religiously inclined country trying to struggle its way out of fanatic entrapment; a woman who strongly believed in "Don't stop living for the fear of death."
This, as she is viewed, perhaps nudged and trudged on by a close aide, by a close aide and ally.
The book is laden with popular dialogue from political thrillers, novels, movies and television productions alike, adding weight and emphasis to the plot.
The biggest summary of the relationship shared by the two women as they journey from the start to the end of one's life, is "The love of power always wins over the power of love."
January 19, 2018
‘Nobody killed her’ is just not a book to be read; it is a book to be re-read, devoured page by page, way till the end of it. The parallels between Rani Shah and Benazir Bhutto blur as you go further deep to realize that there are issues other than women at the core of South Asian politics that Sabyn Javeri points at. Characterization is the main hero of this book. Totally imperfect characters perfectly etched - you love and hate them at the same time - brutally!
June 21, 2017
I chose this book to meet the ' kickass heroine 'and whom I found was an unapologetic heroine with little hypocrisy. Now, that stirred my interest. Prior to it, I had hardly any experience with South Asian thrillers though I was a huge sucker for mysteries and suspense fictions.
Javeri's book prompted me to turn my attention to South Asia and I ended up reading Kalpana Swaminathan and Ashwin Sanghi. Needless to say, it was a good experience. Reviewing these books gave me immense pleasure for there were many serious issues to ponder upon. Javeri's debut novel was no different.
When the story opens, former Prime Minister of Pakistan, Rani Shah was assassinated and her confidante Nazneen Khan ( Nazo )was held accountable for the murder. For, she was the one who was with Rani during her last hours.
“ Who killed her?”
The story which was narrated in the course of courtroom proceedings was unputdownable. A pacy thriller with a maze of elements – treachery, gender equality, corruption, politics and what not.
Javeri had put the narrative in the unreliable hands of Nazo and this made the maze more thrilling.
What I liked about the book was that Javeri had left no stone unturned to depict the real life situations and it shunned hypocrisy to the core. The author was right when she said she was tired of suitable South Asian heroines. Even many of us were tired of that. She had torn apart those false faces which hardly existed and it's a big relief.
Jhaveri's character would make us think twice before we put every woman under one category when it's pertaining to topics like women empowerment, gender equality and feminism. The reasons for misinterpreting these words were mainly because we often tend to forget that there are different kinds of women with different circumstances with Nazo and Rani being the perfect examples.
There are a good number of women who have manipulative skills to get what they want. I liked the way Javeri left her characters ( Rani & Nazo) without judging them. They are at times strong, sometimes vulnerable and they get disillusioned too.
When Rani was born into an affluent family of politicians and everything had been offered to her on a platter, Nazo's family was murdered in front of her eyes by the General who was ruling Pakistan. Strangely, even such a strong background could not help Rani to wriggle through the maze of politics. But Nazo once determined had pushed the envelope and told us the story of survival.
She was a refugee and Rani was Nazo's icon, God, lover and everything. She offered her at Rani's feet thinking that only she could save the country from the treacherous role of the General. But she was wrong. The moment Rani got the power her ideals quickly started changing. Mysogyny was prevalent. But with her hard-earned power did Rani do anything to change that? She comfortable placed herself where her society wanted her to be in.
The book created headlines even before it was released owing to Rani Shah's sharp semblance to the late Benazir Bhutto. It could not be denied but what amazed me was that even with a similar backdrop as of Mrs Bhutto, Rani Shah, all through the book hardly showed any traces of the late former premier. Now, that is something to be appreciated.
Once you finish reading the story, you will understand the quote mentioned by Sabyn Javeri at the outset of the book.
“I think you can love a person too much.You put someone up on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what's wrong - a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don't even realize what you look like, how far you've deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else.”
― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care
Going to read her short story.
- Shalet Jimmy
Javeri's book prompted me to turn my attention to South Asia and I ended up reading Kalpana Swaminathan and Ashwin Sanghi. Needless to say, it was a good experience. Reviewing these books gave me immense pleasure for there were many serious issues to ponder upon. Javeri's debut novel was no different.
When the story opens, former Prime Minister of Pakistan, Rani Shah was assassinated and her confidante Nazneen Khan ( Nazo )was held accountable for the murder. For, she was the one who was with Rani during her last hours.
“ Who killed her?”
The story which was narrated in the course of courtroom proceedings was unputdownable. A pacy thriller with a maze of elements – treachery, gender equality, corruption, politics and what not.
Javeri had put the narrative in the unreliable hands of Nazo and this made the maze more thrilling.
What I liked about the book was that Javeri had left no stone unturned to depict the real life situations and it shunned hypocrisy to the core. The author was right when she said she was tired of suitable South Asian heroines. Even many of us were tired of that. She had torn apart those false faces which hardly existed and it's a big relief.
Jhaveri's character would make us think twice before we put every woman under one category when it's pertaining to topics like women empowerment, gender equality and feminism. The reasons for misinterpreting these words were mainly because we often tend to forget that there are different kinds of women with different circumstances with Nazo and Rani being the perfect examples.
There are a good number of women who have manipulative skills to get what they want. I liked the way Javeri left her characters ( Rani & Nazo) without judging them. They are at times strong, sometimes vulnerable and they get disillusioned too.
When Rani was born into an affluent family of politicians and everything had been offered to her on a platter, Nazo's family was murdered in front of her eyes by the General who was ruling Pakistan. Strangely, even such a strong background could not help Rani to wriggle through the maze of politics. But Nazo once determined had pushed the envelope and told us the story of survival.
She was a refugee and Rani was Nazo's icon, God, lover and everything. She offered her at Rani's feet thinking that only she could save the country from the treacherous role of the General. But she was wrong. The moment Rani got the power her ideals quickly started changing. Mysogyny was prevalent. But with her hard-earned power did Rani do anything to change that? She comfortable placed herself where her society wanted her to be in.
The book created headlines even before it was released owing to Rani Shah's sharp semblance to the late Benazir Bhutto. It could not be denied but what amazed me was that even with a similar backdrop as of Mrs Bhutto, Rani Shah, all through the book hardly showed any traces of the late former premier. Now, that is something to be appreciated.
Once you finish reading the story, you will understand the quote mentioned by Sabyn Javeri at the outset of the book.
“I think you can love a person too much.You put someone up on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what's wrong - a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don't even realize what you look like, how far you've deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else.”
― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care
Going to read her short story.
- Shalet Jimmy
January 2, 2019
Absolutely loved this book. I have not come across such a book from a Pakistani author before. Why is this not better known? Had read the reviews in Indian papers and thought how can any book get such rave reviews and be so dissed on good reads. So read the book for myself and realised the critics were right for once. Every comma, every full stop, every word hits hard. I absolutely loved the gutsy narrative. And Nazo! Oh my God, what a badsass character. Such a refreshing change from the roti dhoti submissive south asian female characters. I had read Bina Shah and Shandana Minha from Pakistan but not heard about Sabyn Javeri. I was shocked that this book was written by female and that too living in Pakistan. As an American born with an indian mother and pakistani father, this is the kind of book I was looking for to tell me I dont have to be either or. I love how Nazo behaves like a man and how the book tells us that we are only answerable to ourselves in the end. Nothing else matters. Hope the author writes more books. And that books are available in US so we dont have to wait for trips back home to stock up. Signed up on goodreads just to say this, so author if you are reading please write a sequel. No spoilers but read the book to know why. One reviwer wrote its like a train ride, yep it is. A rollercoster thriller and a feminsta bookster.
March 4, 2024
the sad tragedy and reality of my country. a friend gave me this and i could not be more thankful to her. im despairing because hope seems folly right now. anyway, give it a whirl
November 10, 2017
Not exactly 3, but somewhere between 2.5-3.5 stars. I like political thrillers and I'd hoped that this one would be somewhat like Omar Shahid's standard, but then expectations are bad. Had I not read him, I would've been quite satisfied with this one. The whole novel is a tussle, of one's inner self. Imagine, a situation where you know so much and you want to spill that out but something is holding you back and you can only leak a mere spoilers. The novel had its highs and lows, but more latters than formers. It is a fine, fast-paced, time passing read. A fair debut.
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March 28, 2017Review to follow.
March 19, 2017
I enjoyed this book but I don't think very highly of it. The world building was vague enough to be just any country (playing into Orientalist tropes) and the villains were loutish caricatures. Some of the horrible stuff that happened to the narrator, seemed purely for shock value. I stupidly read the Acknowledgements and figured out the main twist. The friendship between these two women is really the saving grace of this novel.
August 26, 2018
Being an avid reader, I highly anticipated this book but once I got hold of it I was disappointed. Let me enumerate the reasons:
1. The book is not well-researched. Before making Islam synonymous with so-called 'jihadists', it would have been better if the writer had actually researched about the religion. A superficial mention about various tenets of Islam just to help the storyline did not achieve their purpose, however, they do highlight the writer's own bias and misinformation. Also, I did not find the political events happening here very coherent. Everything happens too fast too soon. It is as if bits and pieces of Fox news or CNN have been picked up and turned into a story.
2. The characters are not well-developed. I mean Rani Shah is portrayed as a strong woman aspiring to be the leader of the Muslim nation yet a conniving housemaid cum secretary controls her actions. If Rani is portrayed as rich, smart and liberal, I am sorry, but as a reader I felt she is dumb, confused and slutty. Nazo is the housemaid cum secretary who depends on Rani's castoffs yet she is betraying her left, right and center and dumb Rani still has her in her house. For a woman of Rani's stature that the writer tried to create initially, this is highly improbable.
3. The plot is loose and unnecessary sex has been thrown in for cheap thrills that actually disgusts a reader. Also, Nazo is thrown out, welcomed in as and when required and when she is welcomed in, Rani even overlooks the fact that she slept with her husband. Nazo gives birth to her first child in Rani's bedroom, telling Rani how to go about the process... seriously!!! Nazo, who is at first shown as a simple girl with an ugly scar on her lip even pretends to be the beautiful Rani attending high profile party meetings pretending to be her. Wow...unbelievable. Either this girl is very very clever or the whole world is a fool. The courtroom drama revolves around the prosecutor and the defendant. The former accusing and the latter failing to utter a real fiery response. No cross questioning of the witnesses makes it a bit mundane. Men have been shown as sex loving maniacs nurturing only the desire to sleep with a woman. A layperson would get the impression that this is only how it goes in our part of the world which is not true at all.
Half-way through the book I felt extremely bored by the negativity and connivance as the story dragged on. This is the writer's first work of fiction. She has the potential. I hope she will do much better the next time.
1. The book is not well-researched. Before making Islam synonymous with so-called 'jihadists', it would have been better if the writer had actually researched about the religion. A superficial mention about various tenets of Islam just to help the storyline did not achieve their purpose, however, they do highlight the writer's own bias and misinformation. Also, I did not find the political events happening here very coherent. Everything happens too fast too soon. It is as if bits and pieces of Fox news or CNN have been picked up and turned into a story.
2. The characters are not well-developed. I mean Rani Shah is portrayed as a strong woman aspiring to be the leader of the Muslim nation yet a conniving housemaid cum secretary controls her actions. If Rani is portrayed as rich, smart and liberal, I am sorry, but as a reader I felt she is dumb, confused and slutty. Nazo is the housemaid cum secretary who depends on Rani's castoffs yet she is betraying her left, right and center and dumb Rani still has her in her house. For a woman of Rani's stature that the writer tried to create initially, this is highly improbable.
3. The plot is loose and unnecessary sex has been thrown in for cheap thrills that actually disgusts a reader. Also, Nazo is thrown out, welcomed in as and when required and when she is welcomed in, Rani even overlooks the fact that she slept with her husband. Nazo gives birth to her first child in Rani's bedroom, telling Rani how to go about the process... seriously!!! Nazo, who is at first shown as a simple girl with an ugly scar on her lip even pretends to be the beautiful Rani attending high profile party meetings pretending to be her. Wow...unbelievable. Either this girl is very very clever or the whole world is a fool. The courtroom drama revolves around the prosecutor and the defendant. The former accusing and the latter failing to utter a real fiery response. No cross questioning of the witnesses makes it a bit mundane. Men have been shown as sex loving maniacs nurturing only the desire to sleep with a woman. A layperson would get the impression that this is only how it goes in our part of the world which is not true at all.
Half-way through the book I felt extremely bored by the negativity and connivance as the story dragged on. This is the writer's first work of fiction. She has the potential. I hope she will do much better the next time.
November 2, 2017
It's a political thriller set very loosely in actual events. It was simply written with themes of feminism and power. I enjoyed it, it was a quick read but felt that the author could've explored the major themes more and possibly rounded out the characters more. And the politics should have been discussed more. Felt it could've been better. otherwise it's an alright book.
May 8, 2020
An interesting book. The writer uses some nice pov styles / literary devices to write out the story, and then uses it to spin off the twist ending satisfyingly. So yeah, definitely skilled writing!
The main character is a bit too neurotic / whinny / dangerously obsessed with everything though, haha. I mean, she's supposed to be that way, or supposed to have been forced to become that way, but still, because the bulk of the book is framed inside her mind, it kind of makes the entire book seem that way. (It really slows it down, and makes you want to kill yourself) (na, but could definitely have been improved).
Lots of good exchanges in between though. The politicians and generals are potrayed believably, and are entertaining. I don't remember reading much about the city / the setting, but it's supposed to be a psycological thriller, I think, so that's fine.
ps. The ending is a twist, sure, but seeing how it's been more than a decade now, and we still don't know anything about the real case, the ending is a statement in itself.
The main character is a bit too neurotic / whinny / dangerously obsessed with everything though, haha. I mean, she's supposed to be that way, or supposed to have been forced to become that way, but still, because the bulk of the book is framed inside her mind, it kind of makes the entire book seem that way. (It really slows it down, and makes you want to kill yourself) (na, but could definitely have been improved).
Lots of good exchanges in between though. The politicians and generals are potrayed believably, and are entertaining. I don't remember reading much about the city / the setting, but it's supposed to be a psycological thriller, I think, so that's fine.
ps. The ending is a twist, sure, but seeing how it's been more than a decade now, and we still don't know anything about the real case, the ending is a statement in itself.
June 9, 2019
Absolutely unputdownable!
October 20, 2019
A page turner. Story most people believe is written on former PM of Pakistan Ms. Bhutto. Creative writing at its best.
December 11, 2019
A breathtaking page turner.
April 22, 2019
3.8 stars
When I was starting, I did not expect all the surprising turns the book would take and I had low expectations for it. The events in the book were mostly inspired by real events and subjectively, the book could’ve done without. The narration pattern was “You by Carolina Kepers”-like which instantly gave off creepy stalker vibes. Nazo’s character was extremely creepy and clingy and was in need of a proper stay at a mental institution and not just as “visiting staff”. Absolutely hate people Like Nazo who think they know the best and take it in their hands to unsolicitedly fix people’s lives. I’d be extremely creeped out if I had someone like that in my life.
Will definitely get my hands on more books by the Author.
“I told them the story of a country whose founder was an Ismaili, its president Shia, its Prime Minister Sunni, its army Punjabi, its bureaucrats Muhajirs, its scientists Ahmedi, its peasants Hindu, its workers Christian, its teachers lazy, its doctors greedy, its labourers hungry, its politicians corrupt, its biryani Sindhi, its naan Afghani and its youth, still hopeful”
“What we do for ourselves dies with us but what we do for others lives on forever”
“For every good reason there is to lie, Nazo, there is a better reason to tell the truth”
“If you trusted someone blindly, they will become blind to your trust”
“Love was just another name for possession”
“People will believe anything but the truth”
“Why do we only notice time when it’s gone?”
“You’re still a woman to them, a worthless afterthought created from a spare rib”
“Time heals all wounds, but for them, they had turned septic”
“Readers become leaders”
When I was starting, I did not expect all the surprising turns the book would take and I had low expectations for it. The events in the book were mostly inspired by real events and subjectively, the book could’ve done without. The narration pattern was “You by Carolina Kepers”-like which instantly gave off creepy stalker vibes. Nazo’s character was extremely creepy and clingy and was in need of a proper stay at a mental institution and not just as “visiting staff”. Absolutely hate people Like Nazo who think they know the best and take it in their hands to unsolicitedly fix people’s lives. I’d be extremely creeped out if I had someone like that in my life.
Will definitely get my hands on more books by the Author.
“I told them the story of a country whose founder was an Ismaili, its president Shia, its Prime Minister Sunni, its army Punjabi, its bureaucrats Muhajirs, its scientists Ahmedi, its peasants Hindu, its workers Christian, its teachers lazy, its doctors greedy, its labourers hungry, its politicians corrupt, its biryani Sindhi, its naan Afghani and its youth, still hopeful”
“What we do for ourselves dies with us but what we do for others lives on forever”
“For every good reason there is to lie, Nazo, there is a better reason to tell the truth”
“If you trusted someone blindly, they will become blind to your trust”
“Love was just another name for possession”
“People will believe anything but the truth”
“Why do we only notice time when it’s gone?”
“You’re still a woman to them, a worthless afterthought created from a spare rib”
“Time heals all wounds, but for them, they had turned septic”
“Readers become leaders”
May 28, 2022
"Nobody killed her", "unlikely friendship of two women- one born to privilege, and the other to dispossession", "political thriller" were the words that made me to pick this book. (You know why🤭)
The book holds two women as lead characters belonging to a Muslim country (Pakistan, it was not specified but it is quite understood).
One woman is a daughter of a political dynasty while the other is a daughter of a victim of the politics.
The previleged woman is an average politician, average wife and an average mother. While the other is born to be a politician holding service fire inside her.
Privileged one is elected as PM of the country while the other serves as a shadow of her, because of politics, an assassination is planned for the PM.
Who, how, when and where is what the story holds.
Absolute page turner with an unexpected twist at the end.
My take of the book: no matter what, woman should lead her life as she pleases. She shouldn't be bound to what society expects out of her.
A good read.
The book holds two women as lead characters belonging to a Muslim country (Pakistan, it was not specified but it is quite understood).
One woman is a daughter of a political dynasty while the other is a daughter of a victim of the politics.
The previleged woman is an average politician, average wife and an average mother. While the other is born to be a politician holding service fire inside her.
Privileged one is elected as PM of the country while the other serves as a shadow of her, because of politics, an assassination is planned for the PM.
Who, how, when and where is what the story holds.
Absolute page turner with an unexpected twist at the end.
My take of the book: no matter what, woman should lead her life as she pleases. She shouldn't be bound to what society expects out of her.
A good read.
September 14, 2025
When I first picked up this book, the association of its characters with those in real history were the single reason that intrigued me much into continuing it.
The opening felt quite relevant, and it started off really well, especially on highlighting the issues faced by a woman participating in politics in a highly patriarchal society such as Pakistan. But after reaching the middle of the book, everything started to feel extremely pushed, and forced. The character development seemed stuck at one single point, that is, the perpetual pushing and pulling at the ropes of hopelessness and hopefulness. In a way, this is the only thing that the whole book seemed to be narrating - a journey of two women in particular, losing hope and finding hope again and losing it again and so on.
I didn't expect much from the ending once I had sensed the flat, dull, and repetitive stories are all there will be through the end of the book.
Anyhow, still a good read if taken into consideration the connection between the book's characters and history.
The opening felt quite relevant, and it started off really well, especially on highlighting the issues faced by a woman participating in politics in a highly patriarchal society such as Pakistan. But after reaching the middle of the book, everything started to feel extremely pushed, and forced. The character development seemed stuck at one single point, that is, the perpetual pushing and pulling at the ropes of hopelessness and hopefulness. In a way, this is the only thing that the whole book seemed to be narrating - a journey of two women in particular, losing hope and finding hope again and losing it again and so on.
I didn't expect much from the ending once I had sensed the flat, dull, and repetitive stories are all there will be through the end of the book.
Anyhow, still a good read if taken into consideration the connection between the book's characters and history.
October 1, 2019
The story is a fictitious retelling of Benazir Bhutto and Nahid Khan's camaraderie. Every other plot twist seems to draw inspiration from a happening in Benazir's life. Without meaning to, you end up drawing parallels between the book and real-life events. I'm unsure if this was clever-writing and intentional on author's part; I, for one, was bogged down by it.The schizophrenia arc didn't really do much for the book either and seemed highly unnecessary.
The major put-off has got to be the ending. Rani Shah and Nazo looked so much alike that one was able to get away with murder while pretending to be the other. How come for the entirety of the book, this look-alike situation wasn't worded out by any of the characters? How come it wasn't unsettling for someone as self-loving as Rani?
Yet another desi fiction trying way too hard to tick off the sexual appeal card.
Redeeming factor: fast-paced.
The major put-off has got to be the ending. Rani Shah and Nazo looked so much alike that one was able to get away with murder while pretending to be the other. How come for the entirety of the book, this look-alike situation wasn't worded out by any of the characters? How come it wasn't unsettling for someone as self-loving as Rani?
Yet another desi fiction trying way too hard to tick off the sexual appeal card.
Redeeming factor: fast-paced.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 13, 2024
To be a woman with ambition can be difficult in a country where women are regarded as second-class citizens. Rani Shah had the audacity to want to become the leader of the country, and for that, she was murdered. Her second in command, Nazo, was the one who pushed her to do better and took the hard decisions when Rani couldn't. And for that, she was sidelined and underestimated. Now she's on trial for the murder of her boss.
It is a good premise, with the storyline highlighting some of the social and personal evils prevalent in society today, especially in South Asia. However, the writing feels rambling at times, and there's a lot of repetition and plot holes (if Nazo was such an asset at the enemy's place, why did she return?).
It is a good premise, with the storyline highlighting some of the social and personal evils prevalent in society today, especially in South Asia. However, the writing feels rambling at times, and there's a lot of repetition and plot holes (if Nazo was such an asset at the enemy's place, why did she return?).
October 6, 2017
Extremely disappointing ending. The kind where you look at the wall for 5 seconds and rethink your life choices (of why I picked up this book to read in the first place. But thankfully it wasn't mine so no money wasted at least).
June 25, 2020
I usually don't write reviews. But this was bad at many level - clichéd language, soap opera like story and absolute lack of depth in the characters. I expected more after I read her story stories, Hijabistan, which were quite decent. Oh well.
May 24, 2017
A gripping debut novel with elements of political intrigue and feminist undertones, this novel is murder mystery that keeps you guessing until the end.
Currently reading
July 25, 2021Good book
August 7, 2022
*speechless*
May 31, 2025
The idea is great, but the book disappointed.
December 2, 2024
I loved it!!!!!
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