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Walking on Cowrie Shells: Stories
A virtuosic debut collection that roves across genres and styles, by a finalist for the Caine Prize
In her powerful, genre-bending debut story collection, Nana Nkweti’s virtuosity is on full display as she mixes deft realism with clever inversions of genre. In the Caine Prize finalist story “It Takes a Village, Some Say,” Nkweti skewers racial prejudice and the practice of international adoption, delivering a sly tale about a teenage girl who leverages her adoptive parents to fast-track her fortunes. In “The Devil Is a Liar,” a pregnant pastor’s wife struggles with the collision of western Christianity and her mother’s traditional Cameroonian belief system as she worries about her unborn child.
In other stories, Nkweti vaults past realism, upending genre expectations in a satirical romp about a jaded PR professional trying to spin a zombie outbreak in West Africa, and in a mermaid tale about a Mami Wata who forgoes her power by remaining faithful to a fisherman she loves. In between these two ends of the spectrum there’s everything from an aspiring graphic novelist at a comic con to a murder investigation driven by statistics to a story organized by the changing hairstyles of the main character.
Pulling from mystery, horror, realism, myth, and graphic novels, Nkweti showcases the complexity and vibrance of characters whose lives span Cameroonian and American cultures. A dazzling, inventive debut, Walking on Cowrie Shells announces the arrival of a superlative new voice.
In her powerful, genre-bending debut story collection, Nana Nkweti’s virtuosity is on full display as she mixes deft realism with clever inversions of genre. In the Caine Prize finalist story “It Takes a Village, Some Say,” Nkweti skewers racial prejudice and the practice of international adoption, delivering a sly tale about a teenage girl who leverages her adoptive parents to fast-track her fortunes. In “The Devil Is a Liar,” a pregnant pastor’s wife struggles with the collision of western Christianity and her mother’s traditional Cameroonian belief system as she worries about her unborn child.
In other stories, Nkweti vaults past realism, upending genre expectations in a satirical romp about a jaded PR professional trying to spin a zombie outbreak in West Africa, and in a mermaid tale about a Mami Wata who forgoes her power by remaining faithful to a fisherman she loves. In between these two ends of the spectrum there’s everything from an aspiring graphic novelist at a comic con to a murder investigation driven by statistics to a story organized by the changing hairstyles of the main character.
Pulling from mystery, horror, realism, myth, and graphic novels, Nkweti showcases the complexity and vibrance of characters whose lives span Cameroonian and American cultures. A dazzling, inventive debut, Walking on Cowrie Shells announces the arrival of a superlative new voice.
176 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 2021
60 people are currently reading
5016 people want to read
About the author
Nana Nkweti
1 book62 followers PRAISE FOR WALKING ON COWRIE SHELLS
All-STARRED REVIEWS from PUBLISHERS WEEKLY, KIRKUS REVIEW, and BOOKPAGES
JUNE 2021 INDIE NEXT PICK
2021 Most Anticipated Book selection for BRITTLE PAPER, THE MILLIONS, and THE RUMPUS
I'm Nana Nkweti - Cameroonian-American writer, AKO Caine Prize finalist, and author of the debut collection, WALKING ON COWRIE SHELLS, forthcoming from Graywolf on June 1, 2021. My book features elements of mystery, horror, myth, and graphic novels to showcase the complexity and vibrance of African diaspora cultures and identities, ultimately serving as a counterpoint to prevalent “heart of darkness” writing that too often depicts a singular “African” experience plagued by locusts, hunger, and tribal in-fighting. PRE-ORDER NOW at www.nanankweti.com.
As a Professor of English, I teach creative writing courses that explore my eclectic literary interests: ranging from graphic novels to medical humanities on to exploring works by female authors in genres such as horror, afrofuturism, and mystery.
When pried away from my keyboard sorcery, I love cultural jaunts to theaters/art houses/dance performances, hunting rare finds in thrift shop bins, home decorating - my family teasingly calls me Martha (as in Stewart) and all things sci-fi (if it's got an intergalactic space ship or a spandexed superhero in it - I'm so there).
All-STARRED REVIEWS from PUBLISHERS WEEKLY, KIRKUS REVIEW, and BOOKPAGES
JUNE 2021 INDIE NEXT PICK
2021 Most Anticipated Book selection for BRITTLE PAPER, THE MILLIONS, and THE RUMPUS
I'm Nana Nkweti - Cameroonian-American writer, AKO Caine Prize finalist, and author of the debut collection, WALKING ON COWRIE SHELLS, forthcoming from Graywolf on June 1, 2021. My book features elements of mystery, horror, myth, and graphic novels to showcase the complexity and vibrance of African diaspora cultures and identities, ultimately serving as a counterpoint to prevalent “heart of darkness” writing that too often depicts a singular “African” experience plagued by locusts, hunger, and tribal in-fighting. PRE-ORDER NOW at www.nanankweti.com.
As a Professor of English, I teach creative writing courses that explore my eclectic literary interests: ranging from graphic novels to medical humanities on to exploring works by female authors in genres such as horror, afrofuturism, and mystery.
When pried away from my keyboard sorcery, I love cultural jaunts to theaters/art houses/dance performances, hunting rare finds in thrift shop bins, home decorating - my family teasingly calls me Martha (as in Stewart) and all things sci-fi (if it's got an intergalactic space ship or a spandexed superhero in it - I'm so there).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 107 reviews
May 5, 2022
What an incredibly vibrant and imaginative collection! Walking on Cowrie Shells is a document of the Cameroonian-American experience in ten irresistibly spirited stories, a passport to another culture and, sometimes, other worlds. Nana Nkweti writes with the imagination of a Sayaka Murata or Irenosen Okojie fused with the type of inventive language that has delighted me in the work of Joshua Cohen and Ali Smith. My absolute favourite was ‘Rain Check at MomoCon’, about a girl attending a comic-con with her frenemies and crush, written in utterly dizzying and exciting prose stuffed with references and wordplay – I could have read a whole novel written in this voice/style. I also loved ‘Night Becomes Us’, scenes from the life of a nightclub bathroom attendant, and ‘Kinks’, a thoughtful exploration of the personal significance of culture and heritage (and also publishing, kind of) through the lens of an increasingly toxic romantic relationship.
I was surprised to find the literary, slice-of-life stories worked better for me than the experiments in genre: the one I thought I’d enjoy the most – ‘It Just Kills You Inside’, about a PR guru hired to put a spin on a zombie crisis in West Africa – was actually my least favourite; I liked the protagonist/narration least out of them all. (But ‘The Living Infinite’, a fantasy tale about a 200-year-old water spirit’s love for a human man, is vivid and touching.) Nkweti’s website includes playlists for each of the stories, plus a very entertaining blog post linked to ‘Kinks’, which only adds to the sense that this is a book alive beyond the constraints of its form.
I received an advance review copy of Walking on Cowrie Shells from the publisher, The Indigo Press.
TinyLetter | Linktree
I was surprised to find the literary, slice-of-life stories worked better for me than the experiments in genre: the one I thought I’d enjoy the most – ‘It Just Kills You Inside’, about a PR guru hired to put a spin on a zombie crisis in West Africa – was actually my least favourite; I liked the protagonist/narration least out of them all. (But ‘The Living Infinite’, a fantasy tale about a 200-year-old water spirit’s love for a human man, is vivid and touching.) Nkweti’s website includes playlists for each of the stories, plus a very entertaining blog post linked to ‘Kinks’, which only adds to the sense that this is a book alive beyond the constraints of its form.
I received an advance review copy of Walking on Cowrie Shells from the publisher, The Indigo Press.
TinyLetter | Linktree
November 19, 2021
I am not exactly sure how to review this debut collection of short stories written by the amazingly gifted writer, Nana Nkweti. The writing is stunning, engrossing, just fantastic; but it is also tough to decipher what is happening. Maybe that is the idea and I am just not bright enough to understand it? The writing is a 5 or more, yet the subject matter is at times dense and complicated. When I read some of the stories I felt I was reading them out loud (in my mind) or repeatedly re-reading sentences to grasp the meaning because they were that “meaty” or dense. The first story, “It Takes a Village, Some Say,” was sensational! “The Statistician’s Wife” and “Dance the Fiya Dance” were my other favorite stories. Perhaps as a reader, I need to be more open-minded and look deeper into the hidden meanings of these beautifully written stories?!? One thing I know for sure, I have never read anything like this before.
April 16, 2023
Love me a collection of short stories, and one with a great title... however this one fell a little flat for me. While I love how diverse the stories are, I only loved the one where the woman was trying to get pregnant.
Honestly, Ill read what she writes next.
Honestly, Ill read what she writes next.
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June 7, 2021Here's my review of this terrific collection for NPR Books. https://www.npr.org/2021/06/07/100338...
June 7, 2021
This is a stunning, wide-ranging collection, and I was blown away by its scope. For me, the first story ("It Takes a Village Some Say") remained the most memorable with its multiple narrators (the latter of which emphatically corrects and replaces the former). I also appreciated the use of sporadic images in certain stories, though it was certainly surprising. All in all, I can't wait to buy a copy of this book, and I can't wait to read more from Nkweti in the future.
Read
June 1, 2021Nkwetis stories are deeply immersive, often disorienting at times. At its best, they call to mind code-switching and the rich polyvocality of America. These stories about Cameroonian Americans are about more than just immigrants. They're about people from a different cultural background. Nkwetis sentences are often memorable and full of humour. Thank you, Graywolf press, for the gifted copy.
November 8, 2021
Prose richer than a pecan pie. Every single sentence is riveting. As a first Gen African immigrant myself, I found myself being overwhelmed by not just Nkweti’s beautiful writing style, but a sense of being seen. Imaginative, genre bending- this collection is a commentary on African-in-America womanhood that should be read by everyone.
November 7, 2021
I think I enjoyed the writing more than the stories. 😅
Will definitely be reading more from this author.
Will definitely be reading more from this author.
September 6, 2021
Each story was vastly different in this debut short story collection so it’s not surprising that some resonated and others didn’t. I especially liked the story about selkies (a type of mermaid) and the story about a Cameroonian American woman unburdening herself from a controlling Afrocentric akata (an African American or an African born in America). I see the tension between Black folks and Haitian Americans so the concept of akata was not new to me but I have never heard the word akata before. I didn’t care for the story about Comic Con or the pregnant fundamentalist. Many of the stories are about the Cameroonian diaspora. Nkweti’s writing style is a pleasure to read and I look forward to reading more in the future.
September 3, 2021
These stories were fiyah.
-This is what we will tell you. The only truth you'll ever know. And you'll accept it because you once set out cookies for Santa, you trust deeply in the power of your voice and your vote, and expect that when you die, when you are nothing but bone and bliss, there lies a new beginning, a sweet hereafter-
Nkweti is a talent, and every story is a testament to her skill, as she shifts tone and style to match narrative. The stories each have their own brand of creativity and craft.
The reader is taken from emotionally heavy stories to sly characters to flowing prose and crisp descriptions to interrogatory subjects that engage the mind.
The stories crackle with wit, tongue-in-cheek references, turn of phrases, and recognizable pop culture references. Nkweti navigates culture, friendships, love, intimate relationships, identity, acceptance, racial prejudices and self-actualization with a power that moves from story to story as a dance.
This entire collection was vibrant, resonating with meaning and agency. The women at the heart of these stories were allowed to be vulnerable, to be strong, to be catty, and loving. They were allowed to BE, in all the ways that we express or protect ourselves, fight for our dreams and excel.
These stories were fiyah and passion and you should definitely be reading this collection.
-This is what we will tell you. The only truth you'll ever know. And you'll accept it because you once set out cookies for Santa, you trust deeply in the power of your voice and your vote, and expect that when you die, when you are nothing but bone and bliss, there lies a new beginning, a sweet hereafter-
Nkweti is a talent, and every story is a testament to her skill, as she shifts tone and style to match narrative. The stories each have their own brand of creativity and craft.
The reader is taken from emotionally heavy stories to sly characters to flowing prose and crisp descriptions to interrogatory subjects that engage the mind.
The stories crackle with wit, tongue-in-cheek references, turn of phrases, and recognizable pop culture references. Nkweti navigates culture, friendships, love, intimate relationships, identity, acceptance, racial prejudices and self-actualization with a power that moves from story to story as a dance.
This entire collection was vibrant, resonating with meaning and agency. The women at the heart of these stories were allowed to be vulnerable, to be strong, to be catty, and loving. They were allowed to BE, in all the ways that we express or protect ourselves, fight for our dreams and excel.
These stories were fiyah and passion and you should definitely be reading this collection.
November 7, 2024
Nana Nkweti erzählt von bi-nationalen Paaren, von Familien-Modellen, in denen große Geldsummen fließen, und von einer jungen Generation, die andere Lebensweisen sucht als die traditionelle Großfamilie, in der sie z. B. Geschwistern von 10 Frauen des Vaters Unterstützung schulden. In „Es braucht ein Dorf, sagen manche“ lernen wir ein Elternpaar kennen, das die Kosten ihrer Adoption aus Kamerun mit einem Mixed-Family-Multikuli-Blog zu finanzieren sucht und dabei auf die Kooperation der elfjährigen Tochter „Unser Mädchen“ angewiesen ist. Als die Geschäftsmethoden der Vermittlerin auffliegen, fragen sich Nana Kwetis Leser:innen, wer hier wen über den Tisch gezogen hat, wer Täterin und wer Opfer ist.
Auch in der Beziehung zwischen Nala (aus einem Clan von Meeresgöttinen) und Byron Stillwater geht es um die Frage, wer wen ausbeutet und was Hautfarbe zu tun hat mit Hierarchien in Beziehungen. Glory Ngassa aus Brooklyn kam ursprünglich aus Kamerun zum Studium in die USA, scheint jedoch mit über 60 die vorgezeichnete Rolle als Unterstützerin eines Familienclans im Heimatland nicht auszufüllen. In „Es killt dich innerlich“ wird der Icherzähler und begnadete Fälscher von Statistiken durch einen Zombiebiss mit einem Supervirus infiziert. Auch Elliot Coffin zeigt einen Hang zur Statistik, als die Ehe mit seiner nigerianischen Frau in eine Krise gerät. Neben den Themen Adoption, Ehepartner als Trophäen, Erheiraten von Status, Erfolgsdruck auf Einwanderer hat mich besonders die Figur der Belinda berührt. Sie promoviert gerade in linguistischer Anthropologie und hat jahrelange Kinderwunschbehandlungen hinter sich. Meine Lieblingsgeschichte ist „Nachholtermin auf der MomoCon“, in der die Eliteschülerin Astrid Atangana als Autorin gemeinsam mit dem jungen koreanischstämmigen Illustrator Young Yoon eine Karriere im Manga-Geschäft plant. Beide Elternpaare wollten mit immensen finanziellen Investitionen in die Schulkarriere ihrer Kinder sicher etwas anderes bezwecken.
Fazit
Nana Nkwetis Kurzgeschichten unterhalten mit unterschiedlichen Textformen, Sprachmilieus und dem Focus auf bi-nationale Ehen, hauptsächlich mit Frauen aus Kamerun. Wie häufig in Stories über Frauen aus fernen Kulturen scheint es auf den ersten Blick um deprimierende Situationen zu gehen, wie Ehepartner als Trophäen, Diskriminierung dieser Beziehungen, Gewalt und unerfüllte Träume. Neben der Vielfalt geschilderter Milieus gelingt es der Autorin jedoch in der Person kesser Figuren, Zweifel an unserer bisherigen Wahrnehmung fremder Kulturen zu säen.
Auch in der Beziehung zwischen Nala (aus einem Clan von Meeresgöttinen) und Byron Stillwater geht es um die Frage, wer wen ausbeutet und was Hautfarbe zu tun hat mit Hierarchien in Beziehungen. Glory Ngassa aus Brooklyn kam ursprünglich aus Kamerun zum Studium in die USA, scheint jedoch mit über 60 die vorgezeichnete Rolle als Unterstützerin eines Familienclans im Heimatland nicht auszufüllen. In „Es killt dich innerlich“ wird der Icherzähler und begnadete Fälscher von Statistiken durch einen Zombiebiss mit einem Supervirus infiziert. Auch Elliot Coffin zeigt einen Hang zur Statistik, als die Ehe mit seiner nigerianischen Frau in eine Krise gerät. Neben den Themen Adoption, Ehepartner als Trophäen, Erheiraten von Status, Erfolgsdruck auf Einwanderer hat mich besonders die Figur der Belinda berührt. Sie promoviert gerade in linguistischer Anthropologie und hat jahrelange Kinderwunschbehandlungen hinter sich. Meine Lieblingsgeschichte ist „Nachholtermin auf der MomoCon“, in der die Eliteschülerin Astrid Atangana als Autorin gemeinsam mit dem jungen koreanischstämmigen Illustrator Young Yoon eine Karriere im Manga-Geschäft plant. Beide Elternpaare wollten mit immensen finanziellen Investitionen in die Schulkarriere ihrer Kinder sicher etwas anderes bezwecken.
Fazit
Nana Nkwetis Kurzgeschichten unterhalten mit unterschiedlichen Textformen, Sprachmilieus und dem Focus auf bi-nationale Ehen, hauptsächlich mit Frauen aus Kamerun. Wie häufig in Stories über Frauen aus fernen Kulturen scheint es auf den ersten Blick um deprimierende Situationen zu gehen, wie Ehepartner als Trophäen, Diskriminierung dieser Beziehungen, Gewalt und unerfüllte Träume. Neben der Vielfalt geschilderter Milieus gelingt es der Autorin jedoch in der Person kesser Figuren, Zweifel an unserer bisherigen Wahrnehmung fremder Kulturen zu säen.
January 26, 2023
Genre-expansive and tragic and lovely. My favorite was the story of the Mami Watah.
July 11, 2021
I'm stuck with this row of books that I want to give 3.5* to but have to choose which end they truly land on to please goodreads. It's not the worst thing, at least it means I am enjoying what I'm reading, it also means I am not fully loving what I'm reading and most of all that I am indecisive how to rate what I am reading.
"Walking on Cowrie Shells" fits with all of that. It also wasn't quite what I expected it to be and maybe being forced to adjust to my wrong expectations dimmed some enjoyment, too. The way it was marketed it sounded like a collection full of magical realism/ speculative stories, Karen Russell's name got evoked (who is mentioned again in the acknowledgements) and it all set the tone for a very different collection. There are a small handful of stories with supernatural/ magical elements yet the majority is realistic, contemporary fiction, some even with dark satirical tones. I ended up liking most of the stories but had a hard time shaking my disappointment over not getting a more magical realism themed book, after all that is my favorite kind of short story collection.
I also had expected a more African setting, Cameroon to be precise, this book is a finalist for the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing after all. It turns out the huge majority of these tales are set in the US, the characters are Cameroonian immigrants and descendants which is also interesting but I was sad I didn't get to explore Cameroon itself more through this book.
What this book did a great job with though was showing that black people aren't a monolith, immigrants aren't a monolith, not even people with the same heritage are anything like a monolith. These (often female) characters all come with similar cultural backdrop yet show personality range, they rattle the floor of some prejudices and misconceptions that are out there. I definitely enjoyed that. I was challenged with Nkweti's writing though, she has an impressive vocabulary. At first I found the stories overwritten and had to push myself to continue with the collection, even when I enjoyed what the stories were about. I found the writing a bit much, a bit artificial. But what can I say? Towards the end I liked her writing more and more. So I think it says more about me than her that at first I couldn't deal with her wordiness and by the end I was lowkey into it. You have to make of that what you will but I would say don't be intimidated if the writing initially appears overwhelming. What I loved though was the incorporation of other languages than just English into the text, I am always a sucker for that.
A tiny detail I really liked was the title. First of all it fits so well for the whole collection but I also love that it is not the title of one of the stories which is something that most other collections do, I love that this was different; and it was kind of beautiful to find it as a line in one of the stories instead. Another specific aspect I liked about these was when Nkweti pitched characters who seemingly have a similar background (either by heritage, skin color, religion, being married to each other...) against each other to then reveal that they are truly not as alike as you thought in the beginning. While I think a reader with Cameroonian background will find a lot of these stories relatable, other readers such as me can learn a thing here and there. But I don't think these stories are limited to Cameroonian experiences, the different tales pick up different themes and I was sometimes more and sometimes less invested. And I am not sure I ever got over the mis-marketing. I'd recommend this collection but I will also not give more than 3* apparently.
3.5*
My top 3:
3) The Living Infinite
2) The Statistician's Wife
1) It Takes a Village Some Say
The one to skip:
The Devil is a Liar
"Walking on Cowrie Shells" fits with all of that. It also wasn't quite what I expected it to be and maybe being forced to adjust to my wrong expectations dimmed some enjoyment, too. The way it was marketed it sounded like a collection full of magical realism/ speculative stories, Karen Russell's name got evoked (who is mentioned again in the acknowledgements) and it all set the tone for a very different collection. There are a small handful of stories with supernatural/ magical elements yet the majority is realistic, contemporary fiction, some even with dark satirical tones. I ended up liking most of the stories but had a hard time shaking my disappointment over not getting a more magical realism themed book, after all that is my favorite kind of short story collection.
I also had expected a more African setting, Cameroon to be precise, this book is a finalist for the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing after all. It turns out the huge majority of these tales are set in the US, the characters are Cameroonian immigrants and descendants which is also interesting but I was sad I didn't get to explore Cameroon itself more through this book.
What this book did a great job with though was showing that black people aren't a monolith, immigrants aren't a monolith, not even people with the same heritage are anything like a monolith. These (often female) characters all come with similar cultural backdrop yet show personality range, they rattle the floor of some prejudices and misconceptions that are out there. I definitely enjoyed that. I was challenged with Nkweti's writing though, she has an impressive vocabulary. At first I found the stories overwritten and had to push myself to continue with the collection, even when I enjoyed what the stories were about. I found the writing a bit much, a bit artificial. But what can I say? Towards the end I liked her writing more and more. So I think it says more about me than her that at first I couldn't deal with her wordiness and by the end I was lowkey into it. You have to make of that what you will but I would say don't be intimidated if the writing initially appears overwhelming. What I loved though was the incorporation of other languages than just English into the text, I am always a sucker for that.
A tiny detail I really liked was the title. First of all it fits so well for the whole collection but I also love that it is not the title of one of the stories which is something that most other collections do, I love that this was different; and it was kind of beautiful to find it as a line in one of the stories instead. Another specific aspect I liked about these was when Nkweti pitched characters who seemingly have a similar background (either by heritage, skin color, religion, being married to each other...) against each other to then reveal that they are truly not as alike as you thought in the beginning. While I think a reader with Cameroonian background will find a lot of these stories relatable, other readers such as me can learn a thing here and there. But I don't think these stories are limited to Cameroonian experiences, the different tales pick up different themes and I was sometimes more and sometimes less invested. And I am not sure I ever got over the mis-marketing. I'd recommend this collection but I will also not give more than 3* apparently.
3.5*
My top 3:
3) The Living Infinite
2) The Statistician's Wife
1) It Takes a Village Some Say
The one to skip:
The Devil is a Liar
December 5, 2021
This is a tough one to review. These are stories that focus on the African diasporic experience, but often done in a fresh way. Although the first few stories had me thinking of DNF-ing this book. I found her writing to be too metaphorical and distracting from the story. And then I would hit a story that was really good, and my issues with her convoluted writing were gone. Of the ten stories in this book, I only liked five, which is why I have to hide it the rating of two stars. I will say she can write romance. She gets at the sensual well. The last story, Kinks, is a great portrayal of how even smart and successful women get intoxicated by lust and charisma. The Living Infinite features the mythical Mami Wata, and was also a fave. I loved how her mythical status was centred but did not overwhelm the story. I loved It Just Kills You Inside, which os about zombies. The Statistician’s Wide plays with form and is the right amount if ambiguous, and I think is my favourite in the collection. I also really enjoyed Night Becomes Us. It’s stripped down melancholy and realness that holds a certain nostalgia to it that I don’t quite understand. It’s beautiful.
So will I pick up another of her works? Yes. I can’t help but wonder if she should have sat on this collection a little bit longer, so all the stories were of the same caliber.
So will I pick up another of her works? Yes. I can’t help but wonder if she should have sat on this collection a little bit longer, so all the stories were of the same caliber.
d-n-f
March 8, 2022DNF pg 63
I don't have much to say about this. I didn't vibe with any of the stories. It left me thinking "why was this written/what purpose did this have" and I never had any idea. The first story in the book was the one that got nominated/short-listed, and I don't know if it was as strong as I expected it to be.
I don't have much to say about this. I didn't vibe with any of the stories. It left me thinking "why was this written/what purpose did this have" and I never had any idea. The first story in the book was the one that got nominated/short-listed, and I don't know if it was as strong as I expected it to be.
December 22, 2021
I found this story collection to be a mixed bag. While some of the stories were fresh and different, many seemed to be be little more than writing exercises, barely fleshed out or properly revised, which is a pity. Nana Nkweti may have been trying to demonstrate how versatile she is when it comes to genres and storytelling techniques, at the cost of careful diction. The use of illustration and journal font felt gimmicky and somewhat immature im comparison to the weight of the themes. Nevertheless, It Takes A Village Some Say, Night Becomes Us and The Living Infinite definitely stood out and left me wanting more.
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January 23, 2022A lot of fascinating topics were covered in these stories, but I didn't love the collection overall. It may have suffered in a general book slump that I had, but it didn't help, either. After reading a few stellar short story collections recently, this reminded me why I tend not to like short stories. But overall, I think my reaction was more me than the stories themselves.
September 22, 2022
4.5 stars
July 5, 2024
Hard to give this book less than 5 stars even though I suspect some of the themes went over my head. Such strong writing. Unique, interesting stories that often took me by surprise! 9/10.
July 10, 2024
Some stories definitely stood out more than others. Overall I loved the collection and how the author was able to transport the reader from story to story by fully immersing them from the first line.
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October 5, 2025Nana Nkweti - Walking on Cowrie Shells REVIEW
Nana Nkweti’s 2021 collection of short stories, “Walking On Cowries Shells,” is an engagingly personal, exciting, as well as dark and intense read, each short story drawing heavily on the unique perspective which comes from inhabiting two cultures; This state of in-betweenness is a phenomenon Nkweti explores in each of her individual stories following different characters, in order to build upon this overarching theme of identity, while crafting each individual story to feel fresh and with something unique to show the reader on each page. Nkweti shows the crossroads between Cameroonian and American culture, which each unique protagonist of the ten stories in this collection grapples with in some way.
Starting on page one, a strong sense of Nkweti’s knack for crafting approachable and gripping story hooks is felt in “It Takes a Village Some Say.” A story which first follows a New Jersey couple who adopt an eleven year old Cameroonian girl, we’re immediately clued in on the fact that something dark and controversial has happened in raising her. This first story’s most notable craft element which distinguishes itself from all the others is point of view; The first half of the story, Volume 1: Our Girl, is told from the perspective of the adoptive parents, while the second half, Volume 2: Their Girl, is told from the point of view of Winsome, the daughter, whose true name, Zora, we learn at the very end of the story. Volume 1 uses collective “we” language, and never names Zora, simply referring to her as “Our Girl.” When it comes time to see Zora’s perspective, we shift to her first person narrative and her perspective fills in all the gaps in her adoptive parents’ knowledge. It’s a literary one-two punch to the gut when Nkweti slowly puts the pieces in place, and we learn Mrs. Ndukong, the legal guardian of Zora, was running a human trafficking business out of Cameroon, taking children from their real family in Africa and selling them to parents in the United States.
In the second story, “Rain Check at MomoCon,” we take a sudden mood shift compared to the first story, and we catch our first glimpse at Nkweti’s versatility when it comes to establishing a more humorous tone. Nkweti opts to take us from dark subject matter to something lighter, offering a sort of breather for readers who might need one. Nkweti’s use of humorous dialogue stands out here, with a funny scene of Astrid’s friends admiring a boy in a batman costume from afar, for instance. Another aspect which stands out about this story is Nkweti’s heavy use of pop culture references; While very fitting for the story, the uninitiated reader ought to have an internet search engine handy while reading in order to join the convention-culture audience Nkweti is catering toward here.
In the third story, “The Devil is a Liar,” we follow a middle aged woman Glory and then shift to her daughter Temperance, a woman struggling to conceive a child, dipping back into heavier subject matter. Nkweti uses characterization in a subtle yet powerful way here; she crafts characters who rely on religion and spirituality to get them through difficult times, and we see the complexity of resorting to faith despite feelings of ambivalence about its efficacy.
In the fourth story, “Night Becomes Us,” we follow Zeinab, a girl struggling to make a living working at a nightclub in New York City. At this point, the reader should notice a constant theme spanning across each story, which will continue throughout the entire collection: Nkweti’s utilization of bilingual and in some cases multilingual protagonists. Each character has heavy ties to Cameroon, and tends to live in an urban, modern-day setting in the United States. Characters will shift from English to various foreign words and phrases, including pidgin, Cameroonian dialects, and French. It constantly reaffirms to the reader that these characters are inhabiting an inbetween state, a constant mental tug of war between two cultures with different norms and values, which informs much of their decision making.
In Walking On Cowrie Shells, the most common point of view Nkweti utilizes is third person, with a few notable exceptions in the stories It Just Kills You Inside, Dance the Fiya Dance, and especially with Schoolyard Cannibal, the fifth story, the only one of which utilizes second person. Schoolyard Cannibal felt like the most distinctive story in the book as it read like an essay of creative nonfiction, directly addressing the reader with it’s “you” language, the most immersive story when it comes to putting the reader in the shoes of a Cameroonian immigrant growing up and going to school in the United States. Throughout this collection, it feels like one of Nkweti’s primary missions is to physically put you in these stories, and make you feel for yourself experiences which may be completely foreign. Alongside this, another important trend the reader will have noticed is Nkweti’s tendency to tell stories from either a girl’s or a woman’s perspective, which makes sense given that Nkweti herself possesses insight after insight about what it means to be a Cameroonian woman, or rather, all the things a Cameroonian woman can be.
In the sixth story, “It Just Kills You Inside,” we take a jarring yet exciting shift to probably the most fantastical story in the whole collection, a man tasked with doing public relations damage control when a zombie outbreak begins in Cameroon and spreads around the world. Another common trait among all the stories a reader should notice by this point is Nkweti’s tendency to craft and explore morally ambiguous and complex protagonists. Nkweti uses plot as an opportunity to place her characters in a position that forces them to make difficult decisions, managing to humanize them while at the same time giving them realistic and relatable flaws.
While each story is strong in its own way, the crown triumph of this collection shows up seven stories in, with “The Statistician’s Wife.” A bona fide page turner from start to finish, we follow a man under investigation after his wife is found murdered in their home. Nkweti’s use of pacing and tension building is near perfect here, building suspense and mystery about the innocence of the protagonist without revealing too much too quickly, and even more impressively, withholding information from the reader without creating any lulls or slowing the story to a halt.
In “Dance the Fiya Dance,” the eighth story, Nkweti shows us the protagonist from an incredibly close distance, following her from her first person perspective, and on top of that, incorporating her handwritten diary entries throughout the story to give us probably the most intimate and close narrative distance in the entire collection. We experience both the loneliness and grief of Chambu just as much as we are elated when she falls in love. This feeling echoes similarly yet in a fresh way with the penultimate story of the collection, The Living Infinite, as we follow Nala, a shape shifting sea creature who falls in love with a human man. Here, Nkweti chooses to use third person and not follow Nala as intimately as we do with Chambu, but rather taps into a reservoir of beautiful and vivid imagery and sensory description to bring the ocean and mythical beings to life as well as ground them in the real world with human emotion and meaning.
The final story, “Kinks,” follows an editor at a publishing company who navigates a strained relationship with an up and coming black revolutionary writer in New York City. The big standout here is Nkweti’s use of symbolism and metaphor to send a message about finding one’s identity among people telling you what they think you are. The piece is segmented into small chapters, each titled a type of way to wear hair, such as, “Relaxed,” “Braided,” “Locked,” and “Twisted.” The use of hair as a symbol of identity, intimacy, and personal growth, has a resounding impact on many levels in this story, which culminates in a cathartic climax where Jennifer, the protagonist, chooses her own name rather than the name given to her by Johnson, splitting from him as both a romantic and ideological partner.
This concluding story feels like a much-earned victory lap, and a celebration of what Nkweti has managed to accomplish with this collection: exploring the darkest lows of modern American life, alienation, and grief, while never forgetting to deeply humanize these complex characters and offer them moments of redemption, humor, and beauty, which leave a strong impression after this collection has been finished.
I'm feeling a strong 5/10!
Nana Nkweti’s 2021 collection of short stories, “Walking On Cowries Shells,” is an engagingly personal, exciting, as well as dark and intense read, each short story drawing heavily on the unique perspective which comes from inhabiting two cultures; This state of in-betweenness is a phenomenon Nkweti explores in each of her individual stories following different characters, in order to build upon this overarching theme of identity, while crafting each individual story to feel fresh and with something unique to show the reader on each page. Nkweti shows the crossroads between Cameroonian and American culture, which each unique protagonist of the ten stories in this collection grapples with in some way.
Starting on page one, a strong sense of Nkweti’s knack for crafting approachable and gripping story hooks is felt in “It Takes a Village Some Say.” A story which first follows a New Jersey couple who adopt an eleven year old Cameroonian girl, we’re immediately clued in on the fact that something dark and controversial has happened in raising her. This first story’s most notable craft element which distinguishes itself from all the others is point of view; The first half of the story, Volume 1: Our Girl, is told from the perspective of the adoptive parents, while the second half, Volume 2: Their Girl, is told from the point of view of Winsome, the daughter, whose true name, Zora, we learn at the very end of the story. Volume 1 uses collective “we” language, and never names Zora, simply referring to her as “Our Girl.” When it comes time to see Zora’s perspective, we shift to her first person narrative and her perspective fills in all the gaps in her adoptive parents’ knowledge. It’s a literary one-two punch to the gut when Nkweti slowly puts the pieces in place, and we learn Mrs. Ndukong, the legal guardian of Zora, was running a human trafficking business out of Cameroon, taking children from their real family in Africa and selling them to parents in the United States.
In the second story, “Rain Check at MomoCon,” we take a sudden mood shift compared to the first story, and we catch our first glimpse at Nkweti’s versatility when it comes to establishing a more humorous tone. Nkweti opts to take us from dark subject matter to something lighter, offering a sort of breather for readers who might need one. Nkweti’s use of humorous dialogue stands out here, with a funny scene of Astrid’s friends admiring a boy in a batman costume from afar, for instance. Another aspect which stands out about this story is Nkweti’s heavy use of pop culture references; While very fitting for the story, the uninitiated reader ought to have an internet search engine handy while reading in order to join the convention-culture audience Nkweti is catering toward here.
In the third story, “The Devil is a Liar,” we follow a middle aged woman Glory and then shift to her daughter Temperance, a woman struggling to conceive a child, dipping back into heavier subject matter. Nkweti uses characterization in a subtle yet powerful way here; she crafts characters who rely on religion and spirituality to get them through difficult times, and we see the complexity of resorting to faith despite feelings of ambivalence about its efficacy.
In the fourth story, “Night Becomes Us,” we follow Zeinab, a girl struggling to make a living working at a nightclub in New York City. At this point, the reader should notice a constant theme spanning across each story, which will continue throughout the entire collection: Nkweti’s utilization of bilingual and in some cases multilingual protagonists. Each character has heavy ties to Cameroon, and tends to live in an urban, modern-day setting in the United States. Characters will shift from English to various foreign words and phrases, including pidgin, Cameroonian dialects, and French. It constantly reaffirms to the reader that these characters are inhabiting an inbetween state, a constant mental tug of war between two cultures with different norms and values, which informs much of their decision making.
In Walking On Cowrie Shells, the most common point of view Nkweti utilizes is third person, with a few notable exceptions in the stories It Just Kills You Inside, Dance the Fiya Dance, and especially with Schoolyard Cannibal, the fifth story, the only one of which utilizes second person. Schoolyard Cannibal felt like the most distinctive story in the book as it read like an essay of creative nonfiction, directly addressing the reader with it’s “you” language, the most immersive story when it comes to putting the reader in the shoes of a Cameroonian immigrant growing up and going to school in the United States. Throughout this collection, it feels like one of Nkweti’s primary missions is to physically put you in these stories, and make you feel for yourself experiences which may be completely foreign. Alongside this, another important trend the reader will have noticed is Nkweti’s tendency to tell stories from either a girl’s or a woman’s perspective, which makes sense given that Nkweti herself possesses insight after insight about what it means to be a Cameroonian woman, or rather, all the things a Cameroonian woman can be.
In the sixth story, “It Just Kills You Inside,” we take a jarring yet exciting shift to probably the most fantastical story in the whole collection, a man tasked with doing public relations damage control when a zombie outbreak begins in Cameroon and spreads around the world. Another common trait among all the stories a reader should notice by this point is Nkweti’s tendency to craft and explore morally ambiguous and complex protagonists. Nkweti uses plot as an opportunity to place her characters in a position that forces them to make difficult decisions, managing to humanize them while at the same time giving them realistic and relatable flaws.
While each story is strong in its own way, the crown triumph of this collection shows up seven stories in, with “The Statistician’s Wife.” A bona fide page turner from start to finish, we follow a man under investigation after his wife is found murdered in their home. Nkweti’s use of pacing and tension building is near perfect here, building suspense and mystery about the innocence of the protagonist without revealing too much too quickly, and even more impressively, withholding information from the reader without creating any lulls or slowing the story to a halt.
In “Dance the Fiya Dance,” the eighth story, Nkweti shows us the protagonist from an incredibly close distance, following her from her first person perspective, and on top of that, incorporating her handwritten diary entries throughout the story to give us probably the most intimate and close narrative distance in the entire collection. We experience both the loneliness and grief of Chambu just as much as we are elated when she falls in love. This feeling echoes similarly yet in a fresh way with the penultimate story of the collection, The Living Infinite, as we follow Nala, a shape shifting sea creature who falls in love with a human man. Here, Nkweti chooses to use third person and not follow Nala as intimately as we do with Chambu, but rather taps into a reservoir of beautiful and vivid imagery and sensory description to bring the ocean and mythical beings to life as well as ground them in the real world with human emotion and meaning.
The final story, “Kinks,” follows an editor at a publishing company who navigates a strained relationship with an up and coming black revolutionary writer in New York City. The big standout here is Nkweti’s use of symbolism and metaphor to send a message about finding one’s identity among people telling you what they think you are. The piece is segmented into small chapters, each titled a type of way to wear hair, such as, “Relaxed,” “Braided,” “Locked,” and “Twisted.” The use of hair as a symbol of identity, intimacy, and personal growth, has a resounding impact on many levels in this story, which culminates in a cathartic climax where Jennifer, the protagonist, chooses her own name rather than the name given to her by Johnson, splitting from him as both a romantic and ideological partner.
This concluding story feels like a much-earned victory lap, and a celebration of what Nkweti has managed to accomplish with this collection: exploring the darkest lows of modern American life, alienation, and grief, while never forgetting to deeply humanize these complex characters and offer them moments of redemption, humor, and beauty, which leave a strong impression after this collection has been finished.
I'm feeling a strong 5/10!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 29, 2021
This is a sharp, incisive debut collection of short stories.
In "Walking on Cowrie Shells" debut author Nana Nkweti gives us a sharp, incisive collection of stories that are wildly varied but all excellent. Her ability to range across the spectrum of story types—from serious slice of life pieces to magical realism to satire—without missing a beat is impressive, all while weaving in themes of otherness and the liminal space in which the African diaspora moves in—often looking in from the outside of both"true" African community as well as American culture. Along the way you'll find everything from hip-hop to heartbreak to cosplay to mermaids.
While all of these stories do some heavy lifting in terms of serious themes and messages, they don't get lost in it—and make no mistake, Nkweti doesn't pull any punches when it comes to the real-life causes she's trying to thrust to the forefront here. They are not thinly veiled ... yet they don't feel burdensome or distracting.
Although I didn't think these stories had quite the magic that I love in my favorite short stories, they are memorable and the prose is excellent, with Nkweti very much in control and intentional the entire way.
I really enjoyed this collection and I look forward to see what Nkweti brings us in the future.
In "Walking on Cowrie Shells" debut author Nana Nkweti gives us a sharp, incisive collection of stories that are wildly varied but all excellent. Her ability to range across the spectrum of story types—from serious slice of life pieces to magical realism to satire—without missing a beat is impressive, all while weaving in themes of otherness and the liminal space in which the African diaspora moves in—often looking in from the outside of both"true" African community as well as American culture. Along the way you'll find everything from hip-hop to heartbreak to cosplay to mermaids.
While all of these stories do some heavy lifting in terms of serious themes and messages, they don't get lost in it—and make no mistake, Nkweti doesn't pull any punches when it comes to the real-life causes she's trying to thrust to the forefront here. They are not thinly veiled ... yet they don't feel burdensome or distracting.
Although I didn't think these stories had quite the magic that I love in my favorite short stories, they are memorable and the prose is excellent, with Nkweti very much in control and intentional the entire way.
I really enjoyed this collection and I look forward to see what Nkweti brings us in the future.
August 8, 2023
Walking on Cowrie Shells was put on my radar by the brilliantly curated podcast Ursa Short Fiction, which featured "Dance the Fiya Dance" in one of their episodes and introduced me to Nana Nkweti's writing.
Based on one of the main themes in "Dance the Fiya Dance"—navigating diasporic (specifically, Cameroonian-American) existence—I originally thought this would be a prominent feature in the the remaining stories. Neither good nor bad (though still a genuine surprise), this turned out not to be the case. To say that Nkweti's thematic range within the included stories was varied, is an understatement. And while the diasporic experience did, in fact, make cameo appearances in virtually every story, it wasn't always the primary focus and was executed in unexpected ways—not solely confined to first-generation descendants of Cameroonian parents attempting to reconcile heritage and tradition with stateside existence.
"Dance the Fiya Dance," "Rain Check at MomoCon," "Schoolyard Cannibal," "Kinks," and (very loosely) "The Devil Is a Liar" follow the that blueprint. Conversely, "It Takes a Village Some Say," "Night Becomes Us," "The Statistician's Wife," and "The Living Infinite" speak to life in the U.S. through the eyes of protagonists that are all freshly minted arrivals: an adoptee, a nightclub bathroom attendant, a foreign-born bride, and a reformed mermaid, respectively. "It Just Kills You Inside" falls outside of the realm of either category in relation to plot and stands all on its own—more so speculative fiction as far as genre.
The play on words of the collection's title is nothing short of brilliant. I literally smile each time I take in the cover. Not only does it allude to a distant locale where cowrie shells are ubiquitous, but to that well-known balancing act involved in sheer daily existence that the more common eggshells idiom references. I also appreciated Nkweti paying direct homage to her chosen title in "Kinks" (170).
Writing-wise, Nkweti's style immediately drew me in. Not only in its dexterity with word usage and pairings, but its similes and use of personification. One such example from "Dance the Fiya Dance" comes as Chambu belatedly arrives at a baby shower:
"...I place them gingerly on a table so heavily laden with food its spindly wooden legs wobble." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 122)
Nkweti also has a penchant for alliteration that plays into the aforementioned allure of her writing:
"His skin was part nacreous, part necrotic—covered in sores I later learned came from radiation exposure." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 88)
"Mambe, itsy-bitsy thing, in the teeny-weeniest of polka dot bikinis, lying alongside me on a Kribi beach, full of vim and vigor..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 95)
"Head flung back to the selfsame sun that was boring through the sizzling skin..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 95)
"...you trust deeply in the power of your voice and your vote, and expect that when you die, when you are nothing but bone and bliss..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 103)
I always appreciate when an author manages (unpretentiously) to challenge me with unfamiliar words, prompting me to turn to a dictionary: pabulum (84), hokum (86), ken (88), chicanery (109), parvenu (109), bandoliered (91), hoosegow (103), uxoricide (117), susurrus (122), doyenne (123), cabal (128), slattern (129).
For the most part, Nkweti executes this well, though she did occasionally overdo it, with a synonym serving more as clunky eyesore for its obscurity than a more standard version of said word would have.
By far, my two favorite (and, in my opinion, the strongest, though that could be considered subjective, given my predilection) stories from the collection were "Dance the Fiya Dance" and "Kinks."
As far as "Dance the Fiya Dance," the format of the included diary entries using a more "hand-written"-style of font was stylistically clever. I found the story's subtle nuances equally so: Chambu chiding herself in a diary entry to bake scones, only to suddenly appear with store-bought ones (122); the same arrangement of baby aparatuses she observes at the shower (122) deliberately repeated in that precise order when recounting her (135).
I also valued the juxtaposition of the story's principal themes of pregnancy, fullness, and (presumed) fulfillment with physical and emotional emptiness throughout:
"She is in front of me now, or rather in front of the food table, where I hover like some wraith. I do feel somewhat uncarnate, hollowed by hunger." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 123)
And Chambu's state of mourning at the memorial service at the end (134) for her was a heartrending conclusion.
I loved the format of "Kinks" with its different states of hair ("Relaxed," "Braided," "Locked," "Twisted," "Pressed," "Blowout") corresponding with the various phases of nascent infatuation.
My other two favorite stories were "The Devil Is a Liar" for its unfurled spiritual underpinnings, and "The Living Infinite" as an ode to Black sirens. And though not favorites, Nkweti's literary breadth is on full display in "It Just Kills You Inside," "Night Becomes Us," and "The Statistician's Wife."
Yet, though I liked many features of the collection, there was something I couldn't quite put my finger on that made Walking on Cowrie Shells fall a few stars short of exceptional. Perhaps the range of subjects (as striking as some of the stories were, in spite of odd themes) was simply too vast for one collection, giving way to an air of disjointedness. Or perhaps there just weren't enough standout stories to counter the underwhelming nature of the ones that fell outside my particular cluster of favorites. Whatever the cause, in its entirety Walking on Cowrie Shells unfortunately failed to enthrall me as much as my independent encounter with "Dance the Fiya Dance." It's clear that Nana Nkweti is a talented storyteller, and I hope to feel more attachment to her future renderings.
Noteworthy lines and passages:
"Young found her lovely. He found her, like he had set sail that day and miraculously discovered her, landing wide-eyed and intrepid on uncharted shores." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 34)
"Later in the dark of her room, she was glowing. A thousand Christmas lights flashing and manic, just under her skin." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 34)
"Astrid stares down at the NYC subway bench with its ritual scarifications, its palimpsest of celebrity memorials: Tupac 4 Life, R.I.P. Biggie, Forever Whitney." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 37)
"On the screen, her baby is airy and infinitesimal; a floating cumulous cloud." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 47)
"But above all, she hopes her prayers will fortify her too-strong daughter whose voice—muttering "goodbye"—had been so breathy and fragile, one of wind chimes forlorn and tinkling in an airless room." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 51)
"The girl's Dominican press'n'curl threatens to topple, doobie-wrapped high round her head in a ziggurat of hair, buttressed by spindly bobby pins." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 52)
"Any faith she has is secondhand, borrowed from him, now showing wear. Seams stressed by the tragedy gestating within her." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 58)
"She wakes to weeping, a voice cracking on the lip of a sob as cleanly as an egg." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 61)
"She was too soft-hearted, too often fell under the trance of these ladies and their dramas. Each woman an urban Scheherazade, their tales enthralling." ("Night Becomes Us," 65)
"Youth makes you too apt a pupil of course lessons it takes decades to unlearn." ("Schoolyard Cannibal," 75)
"She goes all still then shivery on me, her eyes the glass of high-rise windows reflecting nothing but thunderclouds and open sky." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 87)
"...gray-blond five o'clock shadow glittering with water drops, my reflection gleaming dimly in the milky cataract of a mirror." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 87)
"Maybe I was greener than I cared to admit. Maybe it was normal to feel unsteady on a world gone all Tilt-A-Whirl off its axis. Or maybe it was the eerie lab full of doctors unabashedly pawing at nature and her tender parts." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 88)
"When Chelse' was little, she loved bedtime stories. Anything with wicked witches and goblins and ornery ogres collecting tolls to cross rickety bridges. Fancied all things monstrous. Scarier the better, Put her right to sleep [...] My noggin chockful of a hundred ways to scare my little girl shitless, but she always laughed it off. Worked herself up into a drowsy stupor. I came to think of those story times as my daughter's stress rehearsal for reaching life's terror head-on. She learned to embrace the monsters under her bed, to cuddle them close as a teddy." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 92-3)
"The very definition of buttoned up: this man in navy-blue Brooks Brothers and Presidential pocket square, in a custom-fit Turnbull & Asser of crisp, creaseless white. Too quiet, he was, as if the intricate Eldredge knot of his silk tie were a garrote at his throat." ("The Statistician's Wife," 106)
"A cold light filtered through a window—its crocheted grating like some iron afghan thrown over the lap of the world." ("The Statistician's Wife," 114)
"I walk into a room of double-chinned smiles and belly laughs. Every woman—there are only women—looks ample, replete. The susurrus of sighs and coos emanates from their midst [...] the mother-to-be, happily ensconced in a ribbon-decked place of honor, a ravaged gift box balanced on the rotunda of her tummy. Strewn at her feet, gutted boxes, once fatty with BabyBjörns, day rompers, night rompers, and Diaper Genies." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 122)
"On a nearby couch a platoon of women swap maternity war stories [...] They are veterans. With stretch-mark badges of honor to prove it." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 123)
"I feel the weight of this woman's gaze on the side of my cheek, my bare shoulder—scanning me to the bone. I turn to face her. There is a knowing half smile hooked crookedly on her lips. I've seen that look before in all its presumptuous incarnations. She's figured me out, got my number like some scratch-off lotto ticket, laid bare by a grubby coin rub. Pennies for my thoughts." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 125)
"Steven liked me rounded, fecund. He used to squeeze the rolls of fat on my stomach in satisfaction. Squeezing and squeezing like a stress ball." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 128)
"At the cry-dies back home they have professional keeners—women who, for a nominal fee, will blubber and produce high-pitched wails on cue. I am sure it's not completely disingenuous. I imagine that in small villages there must be some point of connection, however distant. A cousin of a friend of the teacher who knew the deceased. I imagine they must have some touchstone, some place deep down inside they access to draw forth the requisite sadness. Like an actor getting into character, they find their motivation—a lost love, a found love that went sour. They find that one hurt to make the tears, when they do come, real." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 133)
"Tens upon tens of thousands trapped. Drowning in their very homes [...] The water she loved a cauchemar, a brackish gumbo of human remains and soggy belongings." ("The Living Infinite," 148)
"For them, America might never be a land of milk and honey, their dreams curdling..." ("Kinks," 156)
"So there they were, in a packed community college auditorium, hands daisy-chained as Ego tugged them forward, squeezing through the audience on a hunt for free empty seats side by side." ("Kinks," 160)
Based on one of the main themes in "Dance the Fiya Dance"—navigating diasporic (specifically, Cameroonian-American) existence—I originally thought this would be a prominent feature in the the remaining stories. Neither good nor bad (though still a genuine surprise), this turned out not to be the case. To say that Nkweti's thematic range within the included stories was varied, is an understatement. And while the diasporic experience did, in fact, make cameo appearances in virtually every story, it wasn't always the primary focus and was executed in unexpected ways—not solely confined to first-generation descendants of Cameroonian parents attempting to reconcile heritage and tradition with stateside existence.
"Dance the Fiya Dance," "Rain Check at MomoCon," "Schoolyard Cannibal," "Kinks," and (very loosely) "The Devil Is a Liar" follow the that blueprint. Conversely, "It Takes a Village Some Say," "Night Becomes Us," "The Statistician's Wife," and "The Living Infinite" speak to life in the U.S. through the eyes of protagonists that are all freshly minted arrivals: an adoptee, a nightclub bathroom attendant, a foreign-born bride, and a reformed mermaid, respectively. "It Just Kills You Inside" falls outside of the realm of either category in relation to plot and stands all on its own—more so speculative fiction as far as genre.
The play on words of the collection's title is nothing short of brilliant. I literally smile each time I take in the cover. Not only does it allude to a distant locale where cowrie shells are ubiquitous, but to that well-known balancing act involved in sheer daily existence that the more common eggshells idiom references. I also appreciated Nkweti paying direct homage to her chosen title in "Kinks" (170).
Writing-wise, Nkweti's style immediately drew me in. Not only in its dexterity with word usage and pairings, but its similes and use of personification. One such example from "Dance the Fiya Dance" comes as Chambu belatedly arrives at a baby shower:
"...I place them gingerly on a table so heavily laden with food its spindly wooden legs wobble." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 122)
Nkweti also has a penchant for alliteration that plays into the aforementioned allure of her writing:
"His skin was part nacreous, part necrotic—covered in sores I later learned came from radiation exposure." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 88)
"Mambe, itsy-bitsy thing, in the teeny-weeniest of polka dot bikinis, lying alongside me on a Kribi beach, full of vim and vigor..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 95)
"Head flung back to the selfsame sun that was boring through the sizzling skin..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 95)
"...you trust deeply in the power of your voice and your vote, and expect that when you die, when you are nothing but bone and bliss..." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 103)
I always appreciate when an author manages (unpretentiously) to challenge me with unfamiliar words, prompting me to turn to a dictionary: pabulum (84), hokum (86), ken (88), chicanery (109), parvenu (109), bandoliered (91), hoosegow (103), uxoricide (117), susurrus (122), doyenne (123), cabal (128), slattern (129).
For the most part, Nkweti executes this well, though she did occasionally overdo it, with a synonym serving more as clunky eyesore for its obscurity than a more standard version of said word would have.
By far, my two favorite (and, in my opinion, the strongest, though that could be considered subjective, given my predilection) stories from the collection were "Dance the Fiya Dance" and "Kinks."
As far as "Dance the Fiya Dance," the format of the included diary entries using a more "hand-written"-style of font was stylistically clever. I found the story's subtle nuances equally so: Chambu chiding herself in a diary entry to bake scones, only to suddenly appear with store-bought ones (122); the same arrangement of baby aparatuses she observes at the shower (122) deliberately repeated in that precise order when recounting her (135).
I also valued the juxtaposition of the story's principal themes of pregnancy, fullness, and (presumed) fulfillment with physical and emotional emptiness throughout:
"She is in front of me now, or rather in front of the food table, where I hover like some wraith. I do feel somewhat uncarnate, hollowed by hunger." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 123)
And Chambu's state of mourning at the memorial service at the end (134) for her was a heartrending conclusion.
I loved the format of "Kinks" with its different states of hair ("Relaxed," "Braided," "Locked," "Twisted," "Pressed," "Blowout") corresponding with the various phases of nascent infatuation.
My other two favorite stories were "The Devil Is a Liar" for its unfurled spiritual underpinnings, and "The Living Infinite" as an ode to Black sirens. And though not favorites, Nkweti's literary breadth is on full display in "It Just Kills You Inside," "Night Becomes Us," and "The Statistician's Wife."
Yet, though I liked many features of the collection, there was something I couldn't quite put my finger on that made Walking on Cowrie Shells fall a few stars short of exceptional. Perhaps the range of subjects (as striking as some of the stories were, in spite of odd themes) was simply too vast for one collection, giving way to an air of disjointedness. Or perhaps there just weren't enough standout stories to counter the underwhelming nature of the ones that fell outside my particular cluster of favorites. Whatever the cause, in its entirety Walking on Cowrie Shells unfortunately failed to enthrall me as much as my independent encounter with "Dance the Fiya Dance." It's clear that Nana Nkweti is a talented storyteller, and I hope to feel more attachment to her future renderings.
Noteworthy lines and passages:
"Young found her lovely. He found her, like he had set sail that day and miraculously discovered her, landing wide-eyed and intrepid on uncharted shores." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 34)
"Later in the dark of her room, she was glowing. A thousand Christmas lights flashing and manic, just under her skin." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 34)
"Astrid stares down at the NYC subway bench with its ritual scarifications, its palimpsest of celebrity memorials: Tupac 4 Life, R.I.P. Biggie, Forever Whitney." ("Rain Check at MomoCon," 37)
"On the screen, her baby is airy and infinitesimal; a floating cumulous cloud." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 47)
"But above all, she hopes her prayers will fortify her too-strong daughter whose voice—muttering "goodbye"—had been so breathy and fragile, one of wind chimes forlorn and tinkling in an airless room." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 51)
"The girl's Dominican press'n'curl threatens to topple, doobie-wrapped high round her head in a ziggurat of hair, buttressed by spindly bobby pins." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 52)
"Any faith she has is secondhand, borrowed from him, now showing wear. Seams stressed by the tragedy gestating within her." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 58)
"She wakes to weeping, a voice cracking on the lip of a sob as cleanly as an egg." ("The Devil Is a Liar," 61)
"She was too soft-hearted, too often fell under the trance of these ladies and their dramas. Each woman an urban Scheherazade, their tales enthralling." ("Night Becomes Us," 65)
"Youth makes you too apt a pupil of course lessons it takes decades to unlearn." ("Schoolyard Cannibal," 75)
"She goes all still then shivery on me, her eyes the glass of high-rise windows reflecting nothing but thunderclouds and open sky." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 87)
"...gray-blond five o'clock shadow glittering with water drops, my reflection gleaming dimly in the milky cataract of a mirror." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 87)
"Maybe I was greener than I cared to admit. Maybe it was normal to feel unsteady on a world gone all Tilt-A-Whirl off its axis. Or maybe it was the eerie lab full of doctors unabashedly pawing at nature and her tender parts." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 88)
"When Chelse' was little, she loved bedtime stories. Anything with wicked witches and goblins and ornery ogres collecting tolls to cross rickety bridges. Fancied all things monstrous. Scarier the better, Put her right to sleep [...] My noggin chockful of a hundred ways to scare my little girl shitless, but she always laughed it off. Worked herself up into a drowsy stupor. I came to think of those story times as my daughter's stress rehearsal for reaching life's terror head-on. She learned to embrace the monsters under her bed, to cuddle them close as a teddy." ("It Just Kills You Inside," 92-3)
"The very definition of buttoned up: this man in navy-blue Brooks Brothers and Presidential pocket square, in a custom-fit Turnbull & Asser of crisp, creaseless white. Too quiet, he was, as if the intricate Eldredge knot of his silk tie were a garrote at his throat." ("The Statistician's Wife," 106)
"A cold light filtered through a window—its crocheted grating like some iron afghan thrown over the lap of the world." ("The Statistician's Wife," 114)
"I walk into a room of double-chinned smiles and belly laughs. Every woman—there are only women—looks ample, replete. The susurrus of sighs and coos emanates from their midst [...] the mother-to-be, happily ensconced in a ribbon-decked place of honor, a ravaged gift box balanced on the rotunda of her tummy. Strewn at her feet, gutted boxes, once fatty with BabyBjörns, day rompers, night rompers, and Diaper Genies." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 122)
"On a nearby couch a platoon of women swap maternity war stories [...] They are veterans. With stretch-mark badges of honor to prove it." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 123)
"I feel the weight of this woman's gaze on the side of my cheek, my bare shoulder—scanning me to the bone. I turn to face her. There is a knowing half smile hooked crookedly on her lips. I've seen that look before in all its presumptuous incarnations. She's figured me out, got my number like some scratch-off lotto ticket, laid bare by a grubby coin rub. Pennies for my thoughts." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 125)
"Steven liked me rounded, fecund. He used to squeeze the rolls of fat on my stomach in satisfaction. Squeezing and squeezing like a stress ball." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 128)
"At the cry-dies back home they have professional keeners—women who, for a nominal fee, will blubber and produce high-pitched wails on cue. I am sure it's not completely disingenuous. I imagine that in small villages there must be some point of connection, however distant. A cousin of a friend of the teacher who knew the deceased. I imagine they must have some touchstone, some place deep down inside they access to draw forth the requisite sadness. Like an actor getting into character, they find their motivation—a lost love, a found love that went sour. They find that one hurt to make the tears, when they do come, real." ("Dance the Fiya Dance," 133)
"Tens upon tens of thousands trapped. Drowning in their very homes [...] The water she loved a cauchemar, a brackish gumbo of human remains and soggy belongings." ("The Living Infinite," 148)
"For them, America might never be a land of milk and honey, their dreams curdling..." ("Kinks," 156)
"So there they were, in a packed community college auditorium, hands daisy-chained as Ego tugged them forward, squeezing through the audience on a hunt for free empty seats side by side." ("Kinks," 160)
December 10, 2022
4.5 ⭐
I'm really impressed with the range and breadth of this collection of short stories. Nana Nkweti is definitely a writer to watch! The writing is bold and incisive. From the first story It Takes A Village Some Say which is a AKO Caine Prize finalist about international interracial adoption, it makes the reader sit up and take notice, extremely memorable. The quality of the stories remains consistently strong throughout, my other favs include It Just Kills You Inside, The Statistician's Wife (about uxorixide), The Living Infinite, Kinks
I'm really impressed with the range and breadth of this collection of short stories. Nana Nkweti is definitely a writer to watch! The writing is bold and incisive. From the first story It Takes A Village Some Say which is a AKO Caine Prize finalist about international interracial adoption, it makes the reader sit up and take notice, extremely memorable. The quality of the stories remains consistently strong throughout, my other favs include It Just Kills You Inside, The Statistician's Wife (about uxorixide), The Living Infinite, Kinks
July 8, 2021
Wow, Nkweti had me bouncing all around in my mind with her extraordinary use of language as she integrated the cultures of Cameroon and the USA. Integration with contemporary references and pidgin language and creative wording added to the depth of the story. Her character development in this short story collection was sublime. Looking forward to her next publication! Thank you to Net Galley for providing this ARC!
February 26, 2024
Loved this collection of short stories! Top stories (no particular order) were “Night Becomes Us”, “The Living Infinite” and “Dance the Fiya Dance”
And this specific line from “Schoolyard Cannibal” had me physically putting the book down going “damn” and needing a minute to sit with it. “A media studies class schools you on symbolic annihilation-the omission, the mis- or underrepresentation of whole peoples in book leaves, in film reels. And you remember your skin is the color of redaction.”
And this specific line from “Schoolyard Cannibal” had me physically putting the book down going “damn” and needing a minute to sit with it. “A media studies class schools you on symbolic annihilation-the omission, the mis- or underrepresentation of whole peoples in book leaves, in film reels. And you remember your skin is the color of redaction.”
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 3, 2024
I found this book difficult to get through. I do like to read books by different authors and cultures, but sometimes it makes it hard to understand what is happening in the scene.
There were a few stories that I found to be very powerful and made me think; Takes a Village, Night Becomes Us, Schoolyard Cannibal, and Kinks. I'm reading this with my bookclub and it's very interesting to see which stories we each like.
There were a few stories that I found to be very powerful and made me think; Takes a Village, Night Becomes Us, Schoolyard Cannibal, and Kinks. I'm reading this with my bookclub and it's very interesting to see which stories we each like.
August 21, 2021
A great collection! Best to read the stories over a period of time instead of serially as they all have a frenetic intensity.
November 9, 2021
"Walking on Cowrie Shells" by Nana Nkweti is the next selection for S.E.E.D. Book Club. It is not a book that I would have chosen on my own. I am generally not a fan of short story collections, and this book confirmed this for me.
This is an eclectic collection of stories by author, Nana Nkweti. She looks at everything from zombies to mermaids to cultural practices, to current and past issues in both America and Cameroon and Africa. I appreciated the Cameroonian aspects of the collection, as I have rarely seen this voice represented in published literature. (p. 80 - "A media studies class schools you on 'symbolic annihilation' - the omission, the mis- or underrepresentation of whole people in book leaves, in film reels.") It inspired me to do some digging and to learn more. (p. 122 - "There is foufou, ndole, groundnut stew, jollof rice, plantains, koki corn, koki beans, achu, gari, and at least three kinds of chicken: stewed, roasted, and a tough bush fowl friend to the consistency of a fist.") Once again, I learned how much I don't know. For instance, that English and French are considered the official languages of Cameroon was a surprise to me. Because I am studying French, I loved the use of French in many of the stories. I also enjoyed the use of Cameroonian pigeon English in at least one story ("Dance the Fiya Dance"). There was a time when I would have loudly protested the use of a language other than English within an author's work, as it would stand in the way of MY understanding. How egotistical! I have now seen the error of my ways. (p. 124 - "I am a linguistic anthropologist...I study the relationship between languages and culture.")
There were many things that I found troubling about the collection. The stories seemed so random and eclectic that what the author was trying to accomplish wasn't entirely clear. I wish there had been something more clearly threaded through the collection and tying all of these works together. The author tries to do too much here - too many settings (time periods and places), themes/issues/subjects (sex trafficking, infertility, organized religion, immigration, girl power and the role of women, the scars we nurse and carry, finding one's true self, domestic violence, child rearing, love and relationships, friendship, fishing, hair, the environment, traditional holidays - Kwanza), genres (mermaids, zombies, realistic fiction, nonfiction), etc. The order of the stories was also confusing...I felt for the most part that the stories got better as they went on. When I read the reviews of other readers, many expressed frustration with the lack of clarity in the author's use of language. I felt that this was especially true in the opening stories. By the end of the collection, with the story "Kinks," the Nkweti's language and text were much clearer - more linear maybe. Perhaps, for those who abandoned the collection, starting with some of the stories that came at the end of the collection would have inspired them to keep going.
There are moments of absolutely stunning language throughout the collection. (p. 106 - "In the couple's wedding portrait, now bagged and blood-spattered in evidence, she was soft and cocoa-skinned, like the sweet promise of uncut brownies." p. 139 - "Memories are rare pearls sifted from the silt of grief...Secreted away in the shade of mangroves, Nala would cleave open their porcelain shells, reveling in the burst of salt and zesty life as her tongue dove into the sweetly tender morsels of flesh within.") However, there are other moments of complete lack of clarity. Again, the writing and the collection itself are really uneven.
An interesting discussion would be, "Why the title 'Walking on Cowrie Shells'?" Perhaps we will discuss this at our next S.E.E.D. meeting. I look forward to the discussion.
This is an eclectic collection of stories by author, Nana Nkweti. She looks at everything from zombies to mermaids to cultural practices, to current and past issues in both America and Cameroon and Africa. I appreciated the Cameroonian aspects of the collection, as I have rarely seen this voice represented in published literature. (p. 80 - "A media studies class schools you on 'symbolic annihilation' - the omission, the mis- or underrepresentation of whole people in book leaves, in film reels.") It inspired me to do some digging and to learn more. (p. 122 - "There is foufou, ndole, groundnut stew, jollof rice, plantains, koki corn, koki beans, achu, gari, and at least three kinds of chicken: stewed, roasted, and a tough bush fowl friend to the consistency of a fist.") Once again, I learned how much I don't know. For instance, that English and French are considered the official languages of Cameroon was a surprise to me. Because I am studying French, I loved the use of French in many of the stories. I also enjoyed the use of Cameroonian pigeon English in at least one story ("Dance the Fiya Dance"). There was a time when I would have loudly protested the use of a language other than English within an author's work, as it would stand in the way of MY understanding. How egotistical! I have now seen the error of my ways. (p. 124 - "I am a linguistic anthropologist...I study the relationship between languages and culture.")
There were many things that I found troubling about the collection. The stories seemed so random and eclectic that what the author was trying to accomplish wasn't entirely clear. I wish there had been something more clearly threaded through the collection and tying all of these works together. The author tries to do too much here - too many settings (time periods and places), themes/issues/subjects (sex trafficking, infertility, organized religion, immigration, girl power and the role of women, the scars we nurse and carry, finding one's true self, domestic violence, child rearing, love and relationships, friendship, fishing, hair, the environment, traditional holidays - Kwanza), genres (mermaids, zombies, realistic fiction, nonfiction), etc. The order of the stories was also confusing...I felt for the most part that the stories got better as they went on. When I read the reviews of other readers, many expressed frustration with the lack of clarity in the author's use of language. I felt that this was especially true in the opening stories. By the end of the collection, with the story "Kinks," the Nkweti's language and text were much clearer - more linear maybe. Perhaps, for those who abandoned the collection, starting with some of the stories that came at the end of the collection would have inspired them to keep going.
There are moments of absolutely stunning language throughout the collection. (p. 106 - "In the couple's wedding portrait, now bagged and blood-spattered in evidence, she was soft and cocoa-skinned, like the sweet promise of uncut brownies." p. 139 - "Memories are rare pearls sifted from the silt of grief...Secreted away in the shade of mangroves, Nala would cleave open their porcelain shells, reveling in the burst of salt and zesty life as her tongue dove into the sweetly tender morsels of flesh within.") However, there are other moments of complete lack of clarity. Again, the writing and the collection itself are really uneven.
An interesting discussion would be, "Why the title 'Walking on Cowrie Shells'?" Perhaps we will discuss this at our next S.E.E.D. meeting. I look forward to the discussion.
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