Sadia is a comedian who loves sex. She is also a hijab-wearing Muslim woman. The two are in a lifelong relationship, but it's complicated.
For fans of Everything I Know About Love, Wrong Knickers and The Right Sort of Girl this is the sidesplittingly funny and brilliantly raunchy memoir you don't want to miss.
Sadia Azmat has many different sides to her, she is the good Muslim sister and the loud and proud comedian, she is the quiet and loving friend and the horny and outspoken one. So why does everyone put her in a box and expect her to choose between one or the other?
In a life of ups and downs, swings and roundabouts, Sadia has learnt the hard way that she can embrace her sexuality and be a proud British-Indian Muslim. From discovering her sexual identity after seeing a copy of Asian Babes on the shelf in the corner shop to rejecting an arranged marriage and feeling distanced from her culture; from her experience dating white and Asian men to her tumultuous relationship with her headscarf, Sadia is unafraid to spill the honest truth.
Sadia finds the funny in every experience she has and this book explodes with personality, warmth and joy. This book is for anyone who has ever felt different or alone; allow this book to fill you up and propel you forward, because we all deserve to feel like a Sex Bomb.
There are many aspects of this book that I found particularly enjoyable and thought-provoking.
First and foremost, the narrative offered a refreshing and insightful exploration of the complexities surrounding sexuality and relationships from the perspective of a British Muslim woman. The author vividly portrays her inner conflict between the deep desire for a romantic relationship and the fear of how such a relationship might affect her standing within her community. This tension between personal happiness and cultural expectations is a relatable struggle that many readers can identify with, making her story all the more engaging.
Additionally, I appreciated the author's candid discussion about her experiences navigating the comedy scene. It was enlightening to learn about the dynamics of support within that environment, particularly how she encountered a more positive reception from some white male peers compared to certain women of colour. This aspect of her narrative sheds light on the often unspoken biases that exist within various social circles, emphasizing the need for solidarity among all women.
One of the more surprising revelations for me was the recognition that the feminist movement is not always inclusive of women from diverse cultural backgrounds. This notion, while somewhat disheartening, also highlighted the complexities of intersectionality within feminism. I find myself in partial disagreement with the perspective that women who choose more traditional roles within their families are somehow diminished or judged negatively. I believe that feminism should advocate for the freedom of choice for all individuals, allowing both women and men to navigate their careers and family lives as they see fit, as long as those choices are genuine and freely made. However, I do agree that the intricate interplay of community values and religious teachings must be taken into account when discussing women's roles within the framework of feminism.
While I expected the book to be filled with humour, given that it was authored by a comedian, I found it to be less funny than anticipated. I had hoped for a greater number of laugh-out-loud moments, but while there were certainly some humorous sections, they were not as frequent or intense as I had expected. Having read other memoirs that strike a balance between humour and seriousness, I believe that a well-placed joke can often make the more sombre themes resonate even deeper.
Overall, I would definitely recommend this book as a worthwhile read, but I think potential readers should be prepared that it may not align with their initial expectations based on the title. The narrative provides a rich tapestry of experiences and insights that go beyond mere humour, delving into the heart of identity, community, and personal choice.
Someone else mentioned having mixed feelings about this book on their review, and I feel the same way. Sadia really does have a unique perspective, and I very much appreciated learning about her experience as a comedian, trying to get started in her career, all the highs and lows; life as a British Muslim, and all the conflicting expectations growing up, from others but also herself; her views on feminism in particular, I thought were eye-opening (as a privileged white woman, I too tend to overlook women with different life experiences). Having said this, I was expecting more laughs, more comedy, and sometimes there were sentences/paragraphs that I had to reread to fully understand where she was trying to get. There is one very good page that made me chuckle, and I kept hoping there would be more humour intertwined with her life stories. Maybe in the next book! I would rate it 3.5, I think it’s well worth reading but wouldn’t be top of my list. But I will definitely check out Sadia’s podcast next!
I have mixed feelings about this book and I’ve waffling between giving it a 3 and a 4. This memoir is definitely fascinating and the author has a very unique perspective on life and I really enjoyed reading about her life experiences and her entry into the world of comedy. I appreciated learning about some ways mainstream feminism isn’t very inclusive which I hadn’t thought of before. It was an enjoyable read. The writing was quite clumsy (frequent unclear sentences) which I found distracting. It’s not something I’d read again but definitely recommend it for a quick read.
It was difficult to judge this book, which seemed honest and personal, but I found myself disagreeing with some of the points made within it, and it didn't so much place incidents in a wider context, but defined them by the context.
What made this unusual was that it was a memoir by a comedian who wasn't at the level where they were touring under their own brand - and therefore the struggle of getting gigs and trying to improve was real rather than a mere stepping stone to the stardom to come later. It might even inspire aspiring comedians of certain profiles to take it up, as I learnt white male middle-class novices have it easy when they start out, while many women and minorities will fight to keep the crumbs granted to them by diversity quotas.
Azmat also shone a light on Asian culture and the difference in expectations of what makes a partner desirable as a partner or spouse, primarily in Muslim families. She didn't necessarily paint herself or her family members in the most favourable light and this honesty was one of the book's most positive aspects. However, there were a few instances where big ideas were used to explain isolated actions and I would have loved to hear the other person's point of view. For example, she considered a comedy mentor to lack empathy and look down on her culture and ethnicity when Azmat revealed her father had two wives - but if a comedy contact hadn't heard from someone in two years, she surely couldn't have expected that such a personal burden would be released onto her first in a personal, rather than comedic capacity?
There were times when Azmat diverged from orthodoxy, so it did seem heartfelt, but I felt she missed the point in some respects. Feminism doesn't mean men can't carry her bags or buy her things, and I can't help feeling that choosing to wear a hijab does send out certain messages, as with all clothing choices - although this particular choice is very closely related to the male gaze and an idea of modesty.
One aspect that I never really wrapped my head around was her subject matter, frequent talk about thirst and dick and how selfish men are, but only one terrible on-off relationship and a couple of instances where men weren't interested in her. I couldn't tell if this was out of respect to the men who weren't horrible and weren't worthy of inclusion in the text, or if she was a female Howard Wolowitz, faking it until she makes it.
It got heavier in the second half and was less fun to read, but overall it was still insightful into her world view and was far less academic than many memoirs-cum-cultural-commentary. I liked the structure and willingness to share her thoughts even if I disagreed with some of them, but the resentful tone that came through at points and not really sharing her humour meant that I was quite detached from the book I was reading.
This is a memoir that explores not just sexuality and religion but the hyper sexualization that is caused by the fetishization of religion (or at least cultures shaped by religion). Sadia tables her experiences from - growing up in an Indian household in Britain (Watching her father try and struggle to be the perfect British, while her mum was trying to be the perfect Indian wife and how isolating that was);
- observing the rise in fetishization of Asian women and girls;
-the realisation and power of her own quiet sexuality;
-her choice of faith (choosing to wear the hijab and the swift change in the lends with which the world began to see her - from people outside the community, curious or afraid OR from people within the community that use puritanical believes to shame and condemn their fellow sisters);
-Even her thoughts on dating cross culturally;
-her view on mental health and the lack of conversation around it in ethnic communities.
This is not just a tale of a life but a through-provoking book that questions believes that we hold about religion and femininity & female sexuality. I have to say that I have never read a book like this, that so plainly and unabashedly unboxes the truth and impact of prejudice within a community. I mean it one thing for the outside world to judge you but it is more painful when the blows come from within.
I really loved it a lot and Sadia's sense of humour is just the best. Sex Bomb is a revelation and a question that we all never to know and answer ultimately.
First of all, this won’t be the book you expect from the title and synopsis (not that I needed tremendous sex descriptions, but the first sentence of the synopsis is “Sadian Azmat is a comedian who loves sex” and, from the experiences in the book, I still don’t know why). Also, I read “my life is a foreign country” this year (which I absolutely loved) and there are similarities with the background of the authors and I may have started with too high expectations. If I’m going to be completely honest, for more than half of the book I just thought “can you please move on? Got it already”. And - don’t get me wrong - I’m a huge lover of books that show me realities different than mine; I just felt it was very repetitive. But then, with the parts about the real “sex bomb” (where she was alone and definitely unsupported) and her experience with “mainstream feminism” for an Asian Muslim woman, I was still able to learn a lot and get something new from her memoir. P.S. and I really liked the idea of the titles of the chapters!
I absolutely love this book! I was introduced to this book by Sadia herself at a hip hop/jazz festival, read a couple of pages and instantly decided to buy it. As an Asian woman myself, I found the book highly entertaining, poignant and heartwarming. There were many experiences that Sadia talked about which I heavily related to. It took me less than 2 days to finish the entire book - I was constantly hungering for more and couldn’t bring myself to put the book down. The book itself wasn’t all about sex, Sadia candidly talks about her journey in Comedy, her childhood and upbringing, mental health in the Asian community and the importance of intersectional feminism. My only caveat/criticism would be that some of the sentences were a little hard to comprehend. Some brevity could have improved the overall readability by a few notches. All in all, an amazing book and a must-read.
Generally a very interesting topic, and a brave and commendable telling by Sadia. This is not a funny book despite her being a comedian , it's more of a serious tone and when some of her jokes are thrown it it is nearly jarring. I got the book's purpose but what we really hear about is one abusive relationship. I liked the naming convention of the chapters but the narrative was all over the place , skipping years in time and adding juvenile sounding defenses. I think I misinterpreted the description of what this would be about but I wouldn't discourage others to read it, still enlightening.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
2.5 Oef, this was a tough read… Considered DNFing many times but I also found it interesting at times due to my experiences which are different but with the occasional similarities. Marked many paragraphs but there were plenty head shakes and eye rolls too. It also felt like it was written in the 2010s (like 2014) and not 2022, the mindset feels more of that time…
I did find myself often wishing this was fiction and not a memoir.
I absolutely LOVED this memoir! It made me laugh and cry, it was more emotion-evoking than I anticipated. I found this so relatable being a person of colour, being raised as a strict Catholic in my teenage years and being a POC woman in particular. The themes of mental health, immigrant family upbringing and societal perceptions of you as a POC woman were explored in such a raw, realistic way. For better of a word this was an incredibly brave story to share, thank you Sadia❤️
This book allowed me to understand the journey of Muslim women and how they are portrayed when it comes to beginning in a relationship, which I found really interesting to learn. It also taught me somethings, which I definitely took note of, as Sadia experienced it herself and I’m sure I would find useful in life. Really did find it to be interesting !!
Strong start and relatively strong finish, but it got lost a little in the middle. Azmat has some interesting things to say, but the book could've done with some tighter editing.
Sex Bomb is the memoir of comedian Sadia Azmat. It takes you through the trials and tribulations of dating as a hijab-wearing Muslim woman.
It was witty and funny (as you’d expect written by a comedian) but also touched on some darker topics too and was incredibly poignant in parts.
It was such a easy read and I devoured it in one day - it had echoes of Everything I Know About Love - written in a similar chatty, big sister way to the way Dolly Alderton writes, which I loved. l’ll be waiting for the Sex Bomb TV adaptation - we need one!
I thought this book was informative and shined a light on areas that I don’t have as much knowledge as I would like. However, I finished the book feeling like there was more to be said.