Rating – 4.5/5

(WARNING: this review contains mild spoilers of the plotline)

Mustafah’s striking book explores the life of a Palestinian family living in diaspora, going through the heartbreak of losing their homeland and loved ones, and trying to navigate life in a new country and culture. It delves into the complex ideas of dysfunctional relationships, living as an outsider in your own family, and trying to find comfort in a new home that you simultaneously belong to but are rejected from. 

Following Afaf as the main storyteller, we see the complexities of living as an American-Palestinian woman. She navigates a life where she is second best in her own home while living in the shadows of her older sister, all while being inferior to the white supremacists that she is surrounded by in her neighbourhood. This process of ‘othering’ is even more evident when she is rejected by her own community within her high school, as well as by her own mother. She feels hopeless, alone, and that she belongs nowhere in the world. 

The book explores two different time periods: the first is 1976-2002, delving into Afaf’s childhood and becoming an adult, and the second is the ‘here and now’, as her time as the headteacher at Nurrideen School for Girls.The school is an Islamic school founded in a majority white neighbourhood of Chicago, and the residents are resentful of the fact that  Muslims are “infiltrating” their community. 

The book goes into depth of the identity crisis many young, immigrant Muslims face, and how this can lead them down an unexpected path. The themes of racism, islamophobia, xenophobia, drug misuse, sexual relations, domestic violence, death, and radicalisation, are all explored in a way that are utterly relatable, yet heartbreaking at the same time. In turn, we see Araf find solace in Islam, where she finds a chosen family — a place she feels like she truly belongs. Yet at the heart of this, she faces the unnerving threats to who she is, which only continue to fester and grow, which we see shock us in a shooting at her school. 

My thoughts: 

For any first- or second-generation immigrant, as I am, this is a powerful novel of the feeling of not belonging. The immigrant second generational trauma is felt throughout this book and is beautifully portrayed as haunting yet hopeful in the lives of the characters. The author has incredible talent to portray such emotions so raw and openly, whilst maintaining the vulnerability that comes with such experiences. I truly felt myself relating to this book in numerous ways, finding words on the pages that could have come from my own thoughts. Because of this, the book was an immensely captivating read. I found myself rooting for Afaf and her family to find their way out of the darkness that surrounded them and their lives in America.

Mustafah switches back and forth from the time periods of Afaf’s life , weaving bits and pieces to give us a full picture of how and why she became the person she is. To begin with, I was slightly apprehensive of Afaf’s character, not totally relating and finding her tone cynical and desolate. However, as I read her experiences, I felt myself relating more and more to her story and truly understood why her character was that way. 

As the author’s debut novel, it is extremely well executed, and I cannot wait to read more of the words she puts on paper!

Why it wasn’t a 5-Star read for me:

What stops me from giving the book a 5-star rating is the description of a hateful shooter that confronts the school. Though I understand the implications and intent behind having this as part of the storyline, the execution to me was slightly off. It attempted to humanise the shooter, but after reading it entirely, I actually did not feel any sympathy for the shooter at all. Rather, I felt a complete indifference towards his actions. I was still left wondering how someone could act in this way — which may have in hindsight been what Mustafah was actually trying to do. Due to the fact that the book was constructed in a way that there were constant flashbacks and different events going on at all times, following the storyline became confusing and muddled. Most of the time, I felt myself wanting to read more about Afaf’s life in the past, but it was more often than not cut short to skip to a different time period. For this reason alone, it is not a 5-star read for me. 

Still, I am yet to find a book that does justice to the experiences of brown Muslim females and immigrant families as well as Mustafah does. It presents a message about society and life for so-called ‘outsiders’, to find your way and your people, and to not let hate get in the way of your living. And, as Mustafah says:

“For those struck down by hate, your stories still keep you among us.” 

This is an ever-important message in the current climate of the world, where fear and hatred of the ‘other’ is beginning to tear apart societal fabrics and lead to divisions among us.

I believe this book is an essential read for everyone, whether you want something to relate to, or something to understand and learn from.