This book had such an interesting premise and I was really excited to receive this ARC. It started off strong but unfortunately started to go down hill and I just got a bit overwhelmed with it all.

This starting off strong, but was difficult to get through as complications began piling up and my interest in sorting through them began the opposite of piling up. Worthwhile read in one big gulp, perhaps?

I first noticed Womb City, the debut novel from Motswana author Tlotlo Tsamaase, on Amazon's Best Science Fiction books of January. I liked the cover art, and very briefly skimmed over some of the summary. "Surveillance state", "desperate crime", "political conspiracy" -- these are all concepts that find their way into plenty of books that I enjoy. It all added up to a compelling enough concoction that I figured I'd give it a try.

I like to go into most books with very little preconceived notion of the plot or what direction it might head. In this case, I think I would have benefitted from a closer read of the book description. I went in thinking that this might be a fresh take on Minority Report, and that's exactly how the book started out. Our main character, Nelah, begins each day with her husband scanning the microchip embedded at the base of her neck. That allows him to see everything she saw for the past 24 hours, ostensibly to "scan (her) memory files for undetected infractions". Like in Minority Report, a system has been put into place that has effectively eradicated crime. Forensic assessments catch the majority of criminal intent before it occurs, and the secret "Murder Trials" act as a backup where the assessments sometimes fail. The microchip is a final failsafe.

It was a promising start to the novel. But before long, things started to come unraveled. Nelah begins a lengthy affair supplemented with illegal drug use, something that seemed preposterous to me knowing that her husband will be reviewing her every move for the previous 24 hours and they live in a society that ostensibly alerts authorities to "pre-crimes" (to borrow the Minority Report term). It's explained away by a magic device that her lover introduces that blocks the recording of the situation. Okay, fine. Except that then raised questions for me that lacked the same tidy explanation. Nelah has never seen the device before...yet she slept with this person a year prior. So, was that initial bout of infidelity recorded? How did her husband not discover the infidelity during the daily scan? And if he had discovered it, why doesn't he recognize this person when he crops up again? While the device blocks the actual illegal drug use, isn't the whole system supposed to identify intent before it happens? Or guilt after if it somehow goes undetected? This sort of scenario perpetuates throughout the book -- either there's a gaping hole in the plot, or the attempt to close a hole is done partially and, in several instances, lazily. I'll give you an example: at one point, near the end of the novel, the following exchange takes place, after (again) an unexplained moment that makes so little sense it even baffles the characters:

"How do you know all of this?" I ask.

"When I rose from my dead body, this 'knowing sense' and voices filled my mind," she says, eyes glazed, lost in the memory.

A "'knowing sense' and voices filled my mind"? That's a convenient explanation. We can do better than that, can't we?

You may be reading the quoted passage above and have picked up on the "rising from a dead body" portion. For whatever reason, I missed the mention of "ghost" in the book description, and that's a huge part of this novel. It plays no role in any part of the first 30% or so of the book. Then, suddenly, it is all-encompassing. Finding a way to stop the ghost from killing all of Nelah's loved ones becomes her sole focus for much of the rest of the novel. It's a head-scratching turn, and it creates a slew of plot holes and unexplained scenarios. It also shifts the genre from something that was entirely sci-fi to something that is almost entirely horror (and, it should be noted, violent and grisly horror), seemingly out of nowhere. It was a head-scratching choice.

In addition to the plot holes, I think my biggest challenge with Womb City was that it felt like Tsamaase had a hard time choosing to leave anything out. I see this occasionally with debut novels; Firekeeper's Daughter comes to mind. It was a debut novel that I loved, but in my review I wrote that "at nearly 500 pages I think there may have been an unconscious desire to get everything into this first book." Something similar happens here, but where Angeline Boulley managed to keep Firekeeper's Daughter focused and moving in a consistent direction, Tsamaase's inability to self-edit the concepts she includes ultimately torpedos the successfulness of the novel.

To help explain the disjointedness, consider that within the 416 pages of Womb City we find the following: a sci-fi plot line lifted straight from Minority Report, a romance/affair, a murder, a grisly ghost-driven horror story plot line, a political conspiracy, an ultra-powerful god-like entity, plus plenty of commentary on women's rights, misogyny, the source of a person's identity, immortality/reincarnation, and more. Human trafficking even makes a brief appearance! As stand-alone concepts, Tsamaase treats many of the above pretty well. But when thrust together, it becomes a mess, to the point that I was laughing out loud at the direction things took in the final pages of the book. There were stand-alone moments that were well done, be it insightful commentary on weighty topics or some well-rendered action sequences. But when all of it was combined, the whole was certainly not greater than the sum of its parts, and the inclusion of so many disparate components along with their inartful combination are the choices that cause this novel to suffer the most. I see Tsamaase's potential as a writer, but Womb City did not come together well.

Tlotlo Tsamaase's Womb City seems to be on everybody's 2024 must read list but I think that is because of the author and the premise because the execution leaves alot to be desired.

For a start there is just too much going on here: body hopping (with some arcane and inconsistent rules which do not make any sense), surveillance through microchips, assessment of future criminal activity, external wombs and more. This is before Tsamaase gets to the gender politics of her future Botswana and deploys some horror tropes.
None of these elements work together and all require pages and pages of dizzying and often confusing exposition.

The amount of explanation and the need to foreground the technology sidelines the things that would make this book work - an engaging plot and interesting, believable characters.

I wanted to read Womb City and ran to request it on Netgalley as soon as I read the summary, it sounded like such an interesting book! A dystopian surveillance state in a future cyberpunk Botswana dealing with themes such as bodily autonomy, motherhood and folklore? Sign me up!

That’s what I said before I realised what I was getting into. The themes explored by the book were too many, or weren’t handled with enough care. I saw what the author was trying to do, of course oppression comes in every shade and form and a Black nonbinary person in a female body, as it’s called in the novel, will feel it effects in reverberations that last all throughout their life more so than any other person in the world — but even though everything is connected it did not feel cohesive, it just felt like things were thrown together to see what stuck.
The book wanted to underline the fate of all women in a patriarcal society but it felt too personal because the author kept adding things that could go wrong for the protagonist. If you add to that the complicated feelings of motherhood in a universe where bodies are hatched to perpetuate eternal life… well. As the sages say, it got lost in the sauce.

The pacing all throughout the book was weird, mostly because instead of a book with a plot it reads like a convoluted worldbuilding draft — the whole novel is intersped with lengthy paragraphs of information the narrator is relating, an encyclopedia of knowledge that keeps being reiterated for four hundred and so pages. Sometimes the information was different from one chapter to the next (harmless things mostly, like the years the protagonist’s parents spent together, or the name of the unborn child, but still, these are things that should have jumped to the eye of an editor); some other times the information was too coincidental and convenient to be believable, which made the book feel like a soap opera by the end.

The writing style is heavy with purple prose, which is not my favourite thing to read, but among all the other things I’m bashing it should probably be commended. The first few paragraphs of the book set the tone of the book extremely well — the narrator uses an asettic and violent language to talk about common things, like the “probing, UV-forensic sunrays" that wake the protagonist up, or a ray of light that “knives its way" across the husband’s face. The language helps in making us understand how Nelah, our protagonist, feels a bone deep desperation when it comes to the lack of agency she has over her body, and the constant assessment over her purity through the microchip implanted in her neck.
But just a couple sentences later you start to notice the heavy handedness of the exposition, taking away the pleasure of finding out things for yourself.

I don’t want to go too deep into the connection with Botwana’s folklore because I’m not super knowledgeable about it, but I will say that the way it ties to the ending of the book feels extremly rushed.

I’d be curious to read some of the author’s short fiction, for which xe’s won prizes before, because maybe less space to develop xir ideas leads to more evocative stories? Who knows, I’ll try to find out! I wish Tlotlo a long career that will provide xem with the chances to improve xir writing in a way that gives justice to xir incredible ideas!

This book had a lot of potential but I ultimately felt like there were too many *things* going on. Should I be concerned about the blatant misogyny from the police state? Should I focus on the babies being made in creepy labs? Or should I be most concerned about inhabiting ghost bodies? Too many things for me to think about and I can't pinpoint which sci-fi thing should be the main concern of the plot line!

I was so excited for this book. The premise sounded amazing. But it just... wasn't. There was so much "telling" vs "showing", so much repetition, so many monologues from characters used to tell us what was going on that were just clunky and awkward. I don't know that this book knew what it wanted to be. It also felt like a first draft that needed A LOT more editing.

Womb City is set in a future African city. Women are treated atrociously. Really badly. The book includes the following trigger warning on its copyright page:

“Content notice: Womb City contains depictions of blood, body horror, car accident, child death, death, death of a parent, domestic abuse, drug use, emotional abuse, gaslighting, gore, grief, infertility, infidelity, kidnapping, miscarriage, misogyny, murder, physical abuse, pregnancy, rape, sexism, sexual violence, and violence.”

I wish I had seen the warning before I started reading. I cannot imagine a single adult woman who is not triggered by reading about at least one of those events. It’s as if the author was thinking every few pages what other horrible thing have I forgotten to inflict on this woman. All this in a debut novel. Where will xe go for the sequel? I shudder to think!

Womb City is a relentlessly depressing read. Don’t do it to yourself. This has got to be the worst, intentionally bad, novel that I’ve ever read. It reads like fantasy revenge porn. Yuck! 1 star (only because negative stars aren’t allowed).

Thanks to Erewhon Books and NetGalley for a digital review copy of the book.

Thanks to NetGalley and Erewhon Books for approving this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

I was very excited to get the chance to delve into Afrofuturist horror that seemed to deal with so many interesting topics - bodily autonomy, power, feminism, racism, classism, criminality. Unfortunately, I'm choosing to leave this unfinished at 52%.

This had a really intriguing premise with a lot of potential. Set in Motswana, we’re thrust into a dystopic surveillance state where people’s consciousness can body-hop through multiple lifetimes, and certain bodies are microchipped and interrogated under the excuse of preventing potential crime.

We meet Nelah, a famous architect in someone else’s suspect, microchipped body, married to a policeman who reviews her thoughts and activities daily, and waiting for her lab-grown daughter to reach full term. When Nelah and her lover accidentally kill someone, and her microchip fails to report the crime, they think they can get away with it… until a vengeful ghost appears and threatens everyone in Nelah’s life.

This was… a lot. While interesting, the dystopic worldbuilding was incredibly complex. People’s consciousness can be transplanted into someone else’s body, so someone could have had multiple lifetimes and bodies - this in particular was very confusing to me, as I didn’t understand how Nelah could be in her third lifetime but only first body-hop and be 428 years old but also 28.

Even though the narration was very repetitive, some things were just not explained clearly enough and I couldn't make sense of them - it even seemed to contradict what already had been said at points. That might just be that I never understood it in the first place, but I think the poor editing was also to blame.

The character of Nelah was at turns a poor subjugated woman who couldn’t do anything, to a bad bitch who could break the rules and maybe even get away with it. And obviously, that duality can be part of the character’s nuance, but it wasn’t done in a way that felt natural. This was also an issue with the characterizations of Nelah’s husband and her lover. Even Nelah’s relationship with Janish was very confusing at first: I wasn't sure if Nelah had actually been sleeping with him or not, if she liked him or not, if there was another person...

As if all of that wasn’t enough, then there was the issue of the ghost. I believe the story in itself was complex enough without a paranormal horror crossover. There was an attempt at a sci-fi explanation for the existence of a ghost that could cause physical damage, tied to Nelah’s DNA, but again, this was both unnecessarily repeated and yet didn’t make much sense to me.

And on top of all that, there were old gods involved… somehow?? The whole Matsieng references didn’t make a lick of sense to me. Again, everything was just too much, and not delivered in a deft, consistent way.

Maybe I got a very early ARC and some of the bigger issues I found (including misspelled/misused words) were later fixed, but my reading experience suffered a lot from the lack of a more thorough editing process.

First, I would like to thank NetGalley for sending me an ARC of this book. Upon reading the synopsis I was really excited to dive in. I’ve never read anything quite like it. Upon diving in however, I just found myself confused over and over again. I felt like the government system and setting was described repeatedly but not in a way that made sense. I finished the book and I feel like I still don’t have a clear visual or understanding for the setting. Then when you think the story is going to focus on one thing (infertility, government control, sexism) it keeps taking left turns and new things keep popping up and happening but not in a good way that ties everything together. And then all of the sudden we’re dealing with murder and ghosts and government conspiracies?? It was too much, and there were many times I wanted to DNF but I pushed through to leave an honest review in exchange for my advanced copy.

3 ⭐️⭐️⭐️ stars! Thank you NetGalley for this arc. This was definitely a wild ride! On the outside looking in, Nelah has everything - a great career, a husband and a child on the way. But the issue is that she is being controlled by her husband via microchip and he watches and knows her every move, and they are in a loveless marriage. Nelah is having an affair with Janith, and during one of the rendezvous’, they get drunk and high and they go out driving and Nelah has a car accident and hits and kills a woman, and this where their troubles begin. The book started off slow, but it eventually picked up and everything started to come together. If you like science fiction and horror, then you will enjoy this book. Overall, it was a good read.

This book started off so strong. I really enjoyed the world that Tsamaase created here (definitely reminiscent of The Handmaid’s Tale and the very real and scary misogyny and racism that plagues our world). The beginning had a clear overbearing government and "big brother" form of police watch that interested me, especially in regards to how it affected our main character. I loved the discussions the novel was having with our main character, Nelah's, microchipped body and want for motherhood. I was really rooting for her in the first third of the novel. However, something very off-hand happens around the 35% mark that completely changed the trajectory of my enjoyment of the novel. It viers into this weird horror blend that didn't fully solidify for me. I felt like it left a lot of plot holes and conveniences (while explained) that just could not keep me fully engaged. I feel like a lot of things started to fall through the cracks and the ending did not hit in a way I would have liked for it too. That being said however, I am very interested to see what Tsamaase writes next because xer ideas and themes are there and I think xey can write really engaging sci-fi.

This was one of my most anticipated books for 2024 - in fact, I requested the book on here quite a few months back, so I’m incredibly sad to say that I wasn’t as into it as I expected to be.

Given my own background, I'm always on the lookout for books by people of cultures and nations not my own. Normally, I’m rewarded with amazing stories. Unfortunately, Womb City, despite its to-die-for cover and awesome premise, just didn’t work for me.

In truth, I only read 50%, so I can’t comment on the climax or wrapping up of the story arcs, but I also feel I read enough to provide a review, at least so you folks can see whether it is something you’d be interested in trying.

Three things failed to keep my interest in the story. The first is that the worldbuilding consists of a large mishmash of sci-fi concepts, some of which were rooted in realism and some that seemed fantastical. As such, when the latter showed up, it made me wary of the more realistic aspects. Likewise, because there were so many (to be clear, awesome) ideas in this novel, none felt fleshed out enough because they were competing for space. If you like a broad collection of sci-fi tropes and concepts in your book, you might like this, though!

The second reason I wasn’t into it was because the main character isn’t very consistent and at times acts in ways that don’t make sense for her character. I understand that she can’t leave her husband because it’ll screw up her social standing (it’s related to the consciousness-swapping thing as well as overall sexism and patriarchy) and because he would react violently, but cheating on him seems like that will also cause his wrath ... so not sure why she felt the need to fool around with that guy (especially as it doesn’t seem they love one another - it’s not a forbidden romance by any means). Likewise, she’s also self-proportedly obsessed with having a baby and needing money for it, but instead of working, she spends all her time with her side-piece. I was completely befuddled by her choices and actions and found her unsympathetic in most aspects, though the point the novel was making about systemic prejudice and the deck being stacked against certain people in society was an important and poignant point. I just wish it had been extrapolated on with more nuance or perhaps with a character I didn't find a bit frustrating.

The last aspect had to do with the pacing and writing. The horror aspects of the story don’t start until after the midway point; in fact, they were just starting when I gave up reading. Tied to the worldbuilding from above, certain aspects are over-explained while others are glossed over, and there’s quite a bit of info-dumping ... yet, I was also never entirely sure the situation of the world, Botswana, or even details about the main character’s life.

In truth, I think this book has a lot of great things going for it concept and theme-wise (the commodification of bodies, feminism, identity, the state and its control, systemic prejudice), but it just needed some tightening and perhaps another developmental edit.

Tlotlo Tsamaase came onto my radar last month when I read The Year’s Best African Speculative Fiction 2022. The anthology is packed with incredible stories, but the two that really stick out are the two written by Tsammase. When I learned that xer first novel was going to be released this month, I had to read it. Luckily, Netgalley and Erewhon Books allowed me to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

There are several reasons to love this novel before I even read the first sentences. The first is that Womb City is a wonderful title, and the cover art elicits so many different mental images, so many different curiosities that are about to unfold. The story starts with Nelah waking and her husband Elifasi wanting to hook her up to the wall with her microchip to make sure that she is not thinking about crime. The society that is built in Womb City, this dystopian Botswana, is filled with corruption, male superiority, power struggles, and men being leaders of everything, even though women are the backbone of society. In the first sections, the novel a marital drama about Nelah and Elifasi trying to have a child, trying to keep their finances in order, and trying to get along with each other. Neither of them trusts the other. All of this time, a wealthy business owner, Janith, becomes Nelah's lover, and keeping this a secret quickly turns Nelah’s life upside down.

Womb City starts as a sci-fi novel, with consciousness jumping from body to body and the politics of this, from the rights of criminals to immigration waiting lists (those with money to the front of the line), investigations for criminals that might commit another crime in the future, and a mist on Sundays that is really the release of markers for the location of hidden dead bodies. The novel quickly turns from a sci-fi novel into straight horror. There are scenes that rival any horror novel I have ever read. The vengeance and anger at the core of the novel slowly turns the book into a conspiracy thriller that morphs the novel into a new, even worse type of horror, because the horrible acts that people are doing to one another is worse than any wrath of an ancient god. 

At some points in the novel, I started thinking that Tlotlo Tsamaase wrote xer book with the idea in mind that this could be the only book xhe ever releases so xhe must put every idea xhe has into the plot. There are so many things that happen, so many different directions that this novel takes, and so many social issues that are examined, that it is impossible to really catch all of it the first time. It is exhausting, but in the way that you feel after a good run, the exhilaration of getting to the end makes the journey worth it. There are moments that feel like they could be slimmed down some, but as a whole, Tlotlo does so many great things in this novel that I will look for everything that xhe writes. I cannot get enough. 

I received this as an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

***Disclaimer: I was provided an electronic ARC of this book by Netgalley in exchange for my honest review.***

Womb City is a mixed bag of dystopia, scifi, and horror. The reader follows an architect named Nelah whose consciousness is able to be transferred to different bodies. Her current body is heavily surveillanced due to a crime a previous 'soul' committed and her marriage is in a fragile condition.

Nelah's infertility is a focus from the beginning of the novel, which leads to her and her husband growing their daughter in a government lab. When discussing infertility and as grief weaves in and out of daily life, the language becomes poetic and Nelah's humanity shines through.

“...how can I be free when my womb is a grave.”

“I am the Black Womb; everything I touch erodes.”

There are moments when the language is less poetic and more exposition and clunky phrasing. Some of this can be excused as a downfall of speculative fiction where world building can often appear expository. However, there are ways to do this without shifting the tone of the narrative. This is part of why I think the poetic language stands out so much—because it's often bracketed with mechanical language and scientific world building, so these moments of rhythm seem shinier and slower in comparison. Also, I would have liked to see the science fiction and horror elements blend a little more. I could feel the tone shift between the genres, but like I could between the poetic prose and the exposition. Though this could also be because I am more of a horror fan than a scifi fan, so I was more attuned to those elements of the narrative.

Nelah is a Black woman from Botswana, which grounded the narrative and gave the story a layer of nuance I thoroughly enjoyed. Major themes of the novel include the over policing and criminalisation of Black female bodies and what it means to be a woman living under patriarchal values and norms. For example, early on in the novel the reader learns that Nelah is a successful architect and the breadwinner in her marriage, yet her success and wealth do not equate to independence. Her husband maintains control in their marriage and is the arbiter of her surveillance.

“I stare at him and wonder if every marriage is like ours: microchipped wives watching our husbands disembowel our thoughts and memories, dissecting our every infraction, interrogating us about our glances, our clothes, our conversations. Monitoring us for undetected crimes.”

Overall, I enjoyed this story but think it could have been blended and tightened a little more. Also, I missed the trigger warnings (which were written in fine print at the beginning of the ARC) so I wanted to emphasise some here, including: miscarriage, child death, grief, abuse, rape, and sexual violence.

Thank you to Netgalley and Kensington Books for the digital egalley in exchange for my honest review.

For fans of Agustina Bazterrica’s Tender is the Flesh. It paints an unsettling future vis a vis Orwell’s 1984 meets Black Mirror, but instead of just hyper surveillance, the government can choose to simply body swap you if you act out of turn.

I would have liked more show and less tell. There’s a little too much exposition and clunky dialogue. I could tell that the characters were talking for the reader when they should just be speaking to each other. A final polish would have been beneficial for this novel.

A really interesting addition to the dystopian subgenre.

Promising, super complicated and interesting book! At points it felt a little too chaotic but in all the author set out with a good idea, and then xe pulled it off great.

Womb City is a cyberpunk sci-fi horror novel set in a future Botswana were people can upload their consciousness into different bodies, thereby extending their lifespans. It explores themes of surveillance, criminality, class, citizenship, reproductive justice, motherhood, memory, and body autonomy. Between that premise and the stunning cover, I was so excited to read this and expected that it might be a 5 star read.

Unfortunately, the execution did not deliver what I hoped for. I was hooked in the beginning but the plot quickly shifted to that of a crime thriller with a lot of running around. I didn't feel connected to the characters and they delivered long monologues that cheapened the important messages of the book. With some clunky world-building and inconsistent pacing, I really had to push through to the end of this. I'm disappointed because the premise of this novel is genius but I think this needed a few more rounds of editing to tighten it up. I do want to read more from this author, because xe introduces ideas that appeal to me so much as someone who loves speculative fiction.

My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an e-ARC copy.

The horrors of humanity blended with a high concept technological dystopia, Tlotlo Tsamaase's Womb City focuses on the dangers of a high surveillance society and social/sexual inequities. Nelah Bogosi-Ntsu is a successful and lauded architect, married to a high ranking policeman, a member of a wealthy family and is trying to have a child. However, the marriage is loveless and controlling, tensions are high with her family, her firm is struggling in an economic downturn, she's suffered multiple miscarriages and she's having an affair.

To further complicate Nelah's life, her body is micro-chipped as a criminal, with her eyes recording all her actions that can be reviewed annually and she must do weekly check-ins with her husband to review what it captures. Despite this, she has managed to build a relationship with another man. As their relationship deepens they spend a wild night of chemical substances and driving that lead to them hitting someone. At this pivotal moment, they seek to protect themselves and kill the unfortunate victim. The next day Nelah's life begins to spiral out of control as the undead victim seeks revenge on Nelah and all that she loves. Can Nelah survive and save her loved ones? Or will she be forced to watch them die, before her turn arrives?

The complexity of the world is further expanded by the body hopping possibilities. Each citizen is entitled to multiple lifespans, but the demand for bodies is much higher than the supply. Added to that is when consciousness transfers between the bodies, memories of past lives are lost. There can also be decades between lifespans with consciousnesses languishing in a virtual ether. Bodies can be surrendered by choice or due to crimes, with part of the punishment requiring the body to be microchipped to prevent future crimes. There are set rules with how this all should operate, but wealth can still rewrite them as desired.

Womb City is a detailed, realized world. Through Nelah we see a privileged perspective beset by challenges. Some of Nelah's problems are of her own making, but others are results beyond her control. She is tested by the events of the book, but will she hold to her family and be the protector of her unborn child? Or will she succumb to the impossible choice of saving herself at the risk of all she holds dear?

It builds slowly, but once the crises is reached, it is a compellingly paced thriller that twists and turns to an unexpected resolution. Beware the blood.

Womb City is an interesting mix of science fiction, the supernatural and horror, served with a generous dollop of social criticism. This is a frenzied, tension-filled, novel that takes place in a near-future Botswana, where citizens, especially female citizens, are microchipped and monitored for criminal behaviour, and where it is routine to upload one's individual memory and personality to a new body.

The main character is architect Nelah Bogosi-Ntsu, who is in her third body. She is desperate for a child, and she and husband Elifasi finally resort to a Wombcubator, where a daughter is being cultivated for the couple. Nelah is articulate and angry about the many limitations society imposes on women, at one point declaring, "I wish they'd stop seeing me as a woman, and maybe then I'd be free to be what I want." One example of oppression includes the regular monitoring of Nelah by her husband for 'purity", as Nelah's previous body was a criminal--or so she is told.

Nelah is a sympathetic character through the first half of the novel, but becomes less so after she takes an old flame for her lover. This triggers a disastrous car accident that sees another woman killed. The dead woman returns to wreck havoc, and to recruit Nelah in her plan to expose corruption in high places.

One strongpoint of this book is the well-thought out social implications of "mind transfer reincarnation", as the uploading of one's consciousness into new bodies is called. Some of Nelah's new family accept her as their lost daughter--but others don't. What happens if your former body was a criminal, or you want a white body in order to immigrate to the West? This is speculative fiction at its best, from a much-needed African perspective.

The horror aspect was also effective. I'm still not sure of what I think of the book's conclusion, in which Nelah's rage, and the power of a sacred water hole, transforms her into a goddess. Talk about deus/dea ex machina. I did enjoy this competently written exploration of gender, and of women's and nonbinary people's anger at patriarchal oppression. If you enjoy the dystopian novels, or the work of surrealist writers like Irenosen Okojie, you will enjoy Womb City, too.