Blog tour: This Motherless Land by Nikki May

This post is part of a blog tour organised by Random Things Blog Tours. I received a free copy of the book in return for an honest review.

‘When Funke’s mother dies in a tragic accident in Lagos, she’s sent to live with her maternal family in England. Traumatised by grief and against a backdrop of condescension and mild neglect, conformist Funke strives to fit in, determined to become one of them.

‘Free-spirited Liv has always wanted to break free of her joyless family, resolved to be nothing like them. Fiercely protective of Funke, she at last has a purpose, and an ally. The two cousins give each other what they need most: love.

‘But the past casts long shadows and the choices made by their mothers haunt Funke and Liv, shaping the trajectory of their adult lives. Can they escape their legacy?’

In This Motherless Land, by Nikki May, nine-year-old Funke Oyenuga’s world is turned upside down when her mum, Lizzie, and younger brother, Femi, die in a car crash. Overwhelmed by grief, her dad, Babatunde, sends Funke from Nigeria to England to live with Lizzie’s family, none of whom she’s ever met.

At the shabby family pile in rural Somerset, Funke finds the weather cold, and most of the Stone family even colder. Her aunt Margot is bitter and bigoted, her cousin Dominic is spoilt and unpleasant, and her grandparents, while fairer to her, aren’t exactly effusive. However, Funke’s exuberant cousin Liv, who’s close to her in age, is thrilled to have a playmate and eases Funke’s transition into her new life.

Eight years on, Funke – known in England by her middle name, Kate, at the Stone family’s insistence – is preparing to study Medicine in Bristol, while Liv is already in London, dreaming of her “big break”. It all comes crashing down, though, when Margot finds a way to blame Funke for a crime Dominic has committed and get her sent back to Nigeria.

Thrust back into a place she barely recognises, Funke at first thinks Liv will set things right, but when she doesn’t hear from her, she comes to the conclusion Liv has betrayed her, too. Liv, though, has been told her cousin is dead. Over the next 12 years, Funke rebuilds her life but hardens her heart while Liv, racked with guilt and self-loathing, scrapes by. Will they even get the chance to reconcile?

I’ve been admiring the cover of This Motherless Land since my proof copy arrived a few weeks ago, and I’m pleased to say that what’s inside is even more brilliant. This was one of those books I picked straight back up whenever I had the chance to read, and got through in big chunks, yet didn’t want to end.

May’s writing is suffused with humour and warmth – right from the start, her descriptions of Funke’s family and their lives in Lagos had me snorting, and brought a place I’ve never been to vivid, sparkling life.

Even when Funke and Liv are going through hard times, something funny will happen, one of the pair will make an amusing observation, or Margot will come out with something so ridiculous and un-self-aware, you can’t help but laugh in horror.

At the same time, the author doesn’t sugarcoat anything Funke has to witness or endure, and doesn’t shy away from putting the characters – or the reader, for that matter! – through the emotional wringer. For example, the road accident that kills Lizzie and Femi is graphic and devastating, and its juxtaposition with prior scenes where we get to know the Oyenuga family and their wider circle renders it even more brutal.

Then there are the everyday, biting cruelties Margot visits upon Funke, such as installing her in a grim attic room, and her revelation that she’s going to the local comprehensive rather than private school with Liv, which made me gasp.

Margot is shockingly horrible to her own daughter too, but Liv at least has the advantages of being Margot’s direct issue, unconnected with the sister she detested, and white (as you’d expect, casual racism is a continual feature of Funke’s life in the UK). Liv is never in danger of being exiled to Nigeria, or nefariously mislabelled as dead.

The idea that siblings can grow up with the same parents in the same home, yet have completely different experiences for a range of reasons, is something that piqued my interest when I was studying for my PhD, so really stood out as a theme for me in This Motherless Land.

In this story, the harm done by obviously favouring one child over the other spreads over two generations. Lizzie was the vibrant, easy-to-love child – albeit the one who came to “disgrace” the family by marrying a Black man – while Margot was sour and demanding, and being treated differently for this reason only compounded these traits.

Margot, incapable of self-reflection as she is, treats her own children differently, seeing Dominic as the golden boy who can do no wrong, and Liv as too fat, too soft-hearted and guileless, too different from herself and others of their social standing. While (I hope!) most other parents would welcome and assimilate their dead sibling’s child, Margot sees Funke as a threat and treats her even more unkindly than she does Liv.

Liv, however, is aware of this history, and seeks to break the cycle, rather than perpetuate it. Even when we first meet her at the age of ten, she’s already critical of her family’s dull lifestyle and snobbishness, and tries not to let Margot’s jibes get to her. Liv loses her way for a bit in her late teens, and is a self-sabotaging hot mess at times, but you know that she’s also a well-meaning and strong-minded character, and her resurgence is lovely to see.

Other, interlinked central themes are the meanings of family and home, and how these are ever-shifting. Lizzie portrays her childhood home, “The Ring”, as a place of wonder and joy, but by the time Funke arrives there, it’s tired and under the control of sour Margot.

Over time, though, Liv’s warmth makes it feel like home, and when Funke is forced to go back to Nigeria, she has to get reaccustomed to its unique quirks, and she doesn’t go back to her family’s well-appointed old house in the city, but the less-salubrious village home where her dad lives with his new family.

Nigeria starts to feel like home to Funke again, however, when she moves back to Lagos to revive her plan to become a doctor, reconnects with old friends and makes new ones on her course, and keeps meeting people on whom her mother made a lasting positive impression. The overall message is that there both the UK and Nigeria have their advantages and disadvantages, and similarities and differences, but what really makes somewhere a nice place to live is the people there.

This Motherless Land is a stunning, absorbing novel that really put me through the emotional wringer.