Besides the back cover description, these few sentences give you a small taste of memories by Nadia Owusu. Her detailed, descriptive, choices of words brings you right into her world. She writes, “She asks what is wrong. How do I tell her about the trembling that leads to ripping, then to violent rupture; to whole lives and whole cities disintegrating; to piles and piles of rubble; to displacement and exile? How do I tell her that a day that begins with pancakes for breakfast can end in disaster; that, in an instant, an earthquake or a mother can arrive and change everything? How do I tell her that even when the earth stops shaking, cracks in the surface spread silently? Pent-up forces of danger and chaos can be unleashed at any time. I don’t know how to explain any of this, so I tell her I am afraid of the aftershocks.”

As a lover of memoirs, I can appreciate the honesty and transparency in this book. However, as a human being, it was tough to read. I took my time with this book in the name of self-care. Some portions of the book had my heart completely broken for the author. Even though some passages may be depressing, it's necessary they we do not hide the ugly parts of our lives. While we read someone' else's pain, it forces us to come to grips with our own. I look forward to more works from this writer.

Owusu's best writing is when she gets personal rather than sharing the history of various places she's lived. A memoir of places she's lived and her sense of self or lack thereof. Italy, Ghana, to name a couple of places she reflects upon. Her father from Ghana and a step mother from Tanzania raise her. She barely knows her white mother. Powerful chapters on grief and the treatment of race in the United States. Well written and timely.

Copy provided by the publisher and NetGalley

Owusu's memoir follows her on her cosmopolitan upbringing around the world as she searches for her identity and a definition for the word "home". Framed with the extended metaphor of earthquakes, Owusu details the traumatic moments of her life and how they played a role in shaping who she became as an adult.

The best part of this book is the beautiful prose Owusu commands. I typically don't write down quotes in my reading notebook (they take so much time!), but I have a couple of pages worth from this one. This is one of those books that you should read slowly, not all at once, and savor what she's written from page to page. In these descriptions, Owusu is able to create well-rounded, lifelike characters out of her family members. Some of these, like her step-mom and father, were more developed than some fictional characters! It made the memoir feel more personal and definitely made for a more interesting read.

I appreciated the scope of social issues Owusu was able to cover with this book. I think there are so many chapters or excerpts that I could use in my thematic units in my American Literature course that would add a new perspective to what it means to be "American" and what it means to be a person of color in the world. She tackles colonialism, racial identity, generational trauma, code switching, police violence against people of color, and so much more. For this reader, there wasn't anything new that I learned, but I can see this book opening a lot of eyes about issues in the world.

While I did love the writing and found the overall experience enjoyable, it did read a bit slow. Perhaps that was where I was with my own reading preferences at the time, or perhaps it's because of the non-linear aspect of the storytelling that made me feel like I could put it down for awhile and not feel lost. But it was still a great read and one I'd recommend!

The author has captured so much of the life in between that bicultural persons live as they adapt to the places that are a part of them but that never completely accept them.

I cannot say enough of this book. Mesmerizing. Heart wrenching. The author takes us through her life with honesty. An absolute must read on the strength we sometimes do not realize we possess. Thanks to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for the arc of this book in return for my honest review. Receiving the book in this manner had no bearing on this review.

I did love all the interesting and important topics the author was trying to include but in my opinion she was a little bit all over the place and didn't properly do any of them. I understand she was trying to include all the major parts of her life - the "special" relationship with her mother, the grieving of her father that passed away from AIDS (and the stigma around it), the Armenian genocide, the racial injustice she faced in multiple countries, the problems in Africa but... You simply can not do it all in one 300 page book.
This book was provided to me for free from the publisher in exchange of an honest review.

Aftershocks by Nadia Owusu is a fascinating, poetically-written memoir largely about her experiences as a girl of mixed race and country parentage with often-changing circumstances and home. Owusu is the daughter of a Ghanaian father and Armenian-American mother who is formed by her mother’s abandonment and blind devotion to her father. During her childhood, she mostly lived with her father and sibling(s). Owusu’s father was highly educated and employed by embassies, which meant that she moved often and had a lot of privilege those in their surrounding country may not have experienced. Owusu frames her memoir by using earthquake terminology as a metaphor for her life and its fissures in childhood. This memoir combines her experiences, brief histories of each country she resides in, and issues of race and privilege. The writing is eloquent, thoughtful, and affecting. Owusu expresses the feeling of not belonging, identifying her privilege, and nostalgia of home so beautifully. In her memoir, she reconciles her parental relationships, including: her father’s presence and death when she a young teenager, her supportive but mercurial stepmother, and her mother who left when she was very young and was largely absent from her life. Overall, it is stunning memoir and reflection on family relationships, place, race, and privilege.

Thank you Simon & Schuster and NetGalley for providing this ARC.

Structured around the phases of an earthquake which she sees as a metaphor for her life, Aftershocks, Nadia Owusu’s unflinching memoir, explores the effects of living life as a hyphenate, a person whose identity comprises overlying fault lines.

The daughter of an Armenian-American and a Black Ghanaian, Owusu enjoyed a cosmopolitan upbringing as her father held an administrative job with the United Nations. However, when she was young, her mother unexpectedly left, leaving Nadia and her sister in her father’s care. After her father died when she was thirteen, her mother declined to take in her daughters and left them in the care of Anabel, their mercurial stepmother.

If Owusu only talked about her experiences in the countries where she lived, which she does with confidence and authority, the book would be worth reading. For example, she describes days leading up to the evacuation of the housing complex in Dar es Salaam, after which they never returned to Ethiopia. The historical and social context augmented the emotional impact.

Even more important, though, was her personal journey focused on mental health and identity. When Anabel visited Owusu in New York and cruelly dropped a bombshell about her father, it triggered a breakdown in which Nadia got stuck for days in a fugue sitting, sleeping, and barely existing in a blue chair. It forced her to reckon not only with her feelings about Anabel but also with her beliefs about her father and how these may impact her current relationships.

Honest and incisive, Aftershocks is a beautifully-written memoir of memory, identity, and mourning.

Aftershocks is a beautiful and breathtaking memoir by Nadia Owusu. I appreciated the non-linear storytelling that takes readers through time and place as Owusu recalls her upbringing around the world. Excited to read whatever comes next from this author.

Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for an early review copy.

I heard a lot of buzz about <i>Aftershocks</i>, so I was excited when I received an ARC for review. <i>Aftershocks</i> is a series of personal essays, memoir-style, by Nadia Owusu. They are non-sequential and vary in length and style, with some feeling more linear and historical, others more abstract or conceptual. And for exactly that reason, some of them resonated with me and others did not. There were moments where I couldn't put this book down and others that felt like an interminable slog. There are also many moments that are acutely painful (TW: consent, police brutality, domestic abuse.)

Nadia has a unique upbringing and family history: Ghanaian father, Armenian mother, raised partially in Africa, England, Italy, and the US. Nadia's coloring is Black, although she shares the features of her White mother, and depending on where she lived in the world, experienced different levels of privilege based on appearance and status (or not). For example, in Africa, her father's UN position and gated community lifestyle situated for a life of unparalleled protection. She writes of her time in Uganda:

<i>"I did not fear for my life because I knew my life would be protected over the lives of others. I was the child of diplomats, an American citizen. I did not consciously do this calculus. It was obvious."</i>

On the flip side, Nadia writes about applying to over 50 jobs in New York City, having fantastic phone screens for them all, and being rejected for "culture fit." She describes the interviewers' eyes dropping upon seeing her Black skin, and how she is certain that her race was the part of the company "culture" that didn't "fit."

In many ways, Nadia's essays are of seeking, finding a place to belong and feel safe in the world. Her feelings of abandonment are a driving force in her search for asylum, which she describes as: <i>There are three relevant definitions of the word asylum. 1. Protection from arrest and extradition given especially to political refugees by a nation or by an embassy or other agency enjoying freedom from what is required by law for most people. 2. (antiquated) An institution for the maintenance and care of the mentally ill, orphans, or other persons requiring specialized assistance. 3. Any secure retreat. Though my application seems to relate to the first, I am seeking the kind of place described the second and third definitions. I am seeking a place to wait out the aftershocks."</i>

One of my favorite essays was about code switching and Nadia's relationship to different voices, accents, and speaking styles. She writes about the normalcy different sounds and cadences of Africa, but how in the US that same variation is considered inauthentic at best and outright deceitful at worst. Listening to how Nadia's boyfriend interrogated her for "losing" her British accent, or asked her to use it for his amusement, was eye-opening for me--in a sad, sad way.

Lastly, I loved the description of the origins of <i>The Lion King's</i> hakuna matata, and how it, along with so many things, has been appropriated for White people to use with rose-colored glasses:

<i>"People in Tanzania, from my observation, however, are more likely to say hamna shida than hakuna matata when speaking to one another. On the surface, it means the same thing. The hostel band might have chosen the less colloquial hakuna matata for its number of syllables, its rhythm. But, it's clear from the way people shrug and smile when they say hamna shida that the sentiment is not quite the naive happiness expressed in the Disney cartoon. It is not quite the naive happiness locals express to wazungu with hakuna matata and a slap on the back. It's not about 'no worries for the rest of your days,' but rather about carrying on despite those worries."</I>

Overall, mixed feelings about this book. I'd recommend to the right reader, but not all readers. If you're okay with non-linear story telling, heavy emotions, and unpacking racial tensions, go for it. Thank you again to the publisher for the ARC.

One last quote I:
<i>"The word wazungu (and it's single form mzungu) is derived from the Swahili word for 'wander.' Wazungu can be applied to anyone who wanders but is most typically used to refer to white people, with the unspoken implication that white people are perpetual wanderers; that their privileges allow them to always be moving toward something, even when they don't what that something is."</i>

I just reviewed Aftershocks by Nadia Owusu. #NetGalley
Nadia Owusu’s debut memoir, Aftershocks, is an incredible memoir about the author’s history and lost identity.

A first for this author, its honest and tears at your heart. I am not typically into memoirs; but am trying to get myself to branch out more in my reading styles. It follows the life of the main character and how she grew up in difficult times, making the reader feel like they are there. Left a big impact on me.

This book is filled with many stories. So many, in fact, that I had trouble keeping up with them all and keeping them straight. Her stream of consciousness storytelling vs. chronological makes for a non-traditional approach to telling her story, but I found it difficult to focus on what she was actually saying.

Aftershocks was an amazing read and I loved the book. Nadia Owusu tells her story growing up as an expat and moving to New York as a young adult. It tells her story of growing up in different countries, different cultures, being black, being American, being Armenian, being an expat, being a human being. It tells her very difficult story with her birth mother and equally difficult story with her step mother, her love to her father who she lost too early. You see her struggles, but you also see the strength that she had growing up and becoming an adult. I have so much admiration for Owusu and hope she will write a follow-up book of her life. I wish she would have talked more about her brother after he was killed, but I can read her pain and her pain is throughout the book. It's such an amazing read!

4.5 stars. A beautifully-written, rich memoir written by a woman who has a Ghanese father and an Armenian mom. With “earthquake” as a metaphor for events in her life, the author had me relating to her feelings and experiences even though we have dissimilar lives. To me, this ability to write about oneself and bring readers in with gorgeous writing - allowing us to see and to relate and understand a life that is so different from mine - that is true magnificence.

Themes of race and culture and love and shame and searching are throughout this must-read memoir. I felt transported to the numerous places the author has lived emotionally while learning so much about countries and cultures with which I’m not familiar.

This is a keeper. This is a must-read. It’s beautiful.

Thank you to Netgalley and Simon and Schuster for the advanced copy of this incredible memoir. I’m grateful.

My review for Shelf Awareness Pro is here: https://www.shelf-awareness.com/issue.html?issue=3887#m50847

The review was also cross-posted to Smithsonian BookDragon: http://smithsonianapa.org/bookdragon/aftershocks-a-memoir-by-nadia-owusu-in-shelf-awareness/

Aftershocks is a story about a girl who has lived in many places, yet doesn't have a place to call home. The story moves along with river-like ripples, at times meditatively, other times unmistakably fast. Yet despite the tempo, the emotions of the character come through loud and clear. In fact, this book does such a good job of evocation that at times, my emotional capacity to read the sadness would be overwhelmed and I would need to take a break to return to the story at a better time. While the emotional scene created was engaging, I am not sure that this book would be an easy read for a variety of audiences. Hence the four-star review.

Nadia Owusu grew up in different countries, struggling with identity, race, and trying to find a place for herself. Her memoir discuses the results of growing up without stability and being rejected by your own mother. Her mother abandons her and she loses her father at an early age. Her and her sister stay with their step-mother who is cruel and unable to give them the care they need. The book moves between time from when she was a little girl and as a young woman. Owusu deals with anxiety, depression, and guilt as an adult. She is made to feel lesser because of her race but also because she lost both of her parents in different ways. I liked the earthquake metaphors throughout the novel and thought it ties her story together well.

I thought the writing was lovely and had a great flow to it. Thank you to Netgalley and to Simon & Schuster for an advanced copy of this book!

Stunning. Beautiful. Heart wrenching. Absolutely a must-read from a faculty member of the Mountainview MFA program.