I have a huge soft spot for Nigerian literature. Whether it's Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart or the wonderful Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Purple Hibiscus, returning to Nigerian literature is more often than not like soaking into a very warm and fragrant bath. The language is exquisite, the themes feel like old familiar friends (patriarchy in Nigerian society, the importance placed on family and familial relationships, Nigeria's troubled civil life and military dictatorship, to name just a few) and I find myself fascinated by a culture I can only marginally relate to.

Stay with Me very neatly slots into that same category and the fact that it's been shortlisted for this year's Women's Prize for Fiction is proof that quite a few critics also rate it (normally, I don't really feel that overwhelming critical reception is a big deal for me personally, but in this case, I was quite pleased; whether or not it actually wins it is another matter entirely). It is, like a lot of other Nigerian books, a treatise on family and love set against the troubled background of Nigeria in the '80s and '90s. Yejide and Akin are happily married, deliriously in love since the day they first laid eyes on each other and eagerly awaiting a child. But after two years of trying hopelessly, Akin's family insists that since Yejide is clearly unable to bear him children, he must find a second wife. That decision, and its consequences, will have devastating effects on their marriage. Stay with Me is a story of betrayal, despair and jealousy.

I thought that loving someone acted as a kind of protective measure, like they'd understand the scale and intensity of your feelings and act accordingly. That seemed fair to me, as if fairness were a measure the universe cared anything about.


The story is told in alternating point of view chapters between Yejide and Akin, their own interpretations of facts an illuminating glimpse into their personalities. Yejide is a childless mother and her father holds her personally responsible for "the great love of his life" dying in childbirth. She is shunned by her step-mothers and step-siblings and finds herself alone, which in a culture like Nigeria means more than just being denied sympathy or care or even affection. Yejide forges her own path in life and when she and Akin meet and fall in love, she is adopted by his family, seen as the herald to a glorious future filled with children. Until those children fail to materialise, until the burden and the disappointment is placed on Yejide herself and Akin's family insist that the obvious solution is a second wife.

If the burden is too much and stays too long, even love bends, cracks, comes close to breaking and sometimes does break. But even when it's in a thousand pieces around your feet, that doesn't mean it's no longer love.


Adebayo's novel doesn't hold back, it packs a punch and relentlessly throws you from crisis to crisis. I really felt Yejide's pain and Akin's secrets blanketing them and shutting them out from the rest of the world. Even with Funmi around, it always felt like their marriage was never meant to include anyone else, that even with all their grief it was never about simply "fixing" it by adding more people. However, as tragedies transpire and secrets are laid bare, it's obvious how much holding back can hurt, how even when there were insurmountable gulfs between them, both Yejide and Akin waited for the other to take the next step, to start the reconciliation process. I wanted them to have a happy ending (of sorts) but as the book progressed I struggled to see how that could be achieved. (view spoiler)

But I think I did believe that love had immense power to unearth all that was good in us, refine us and reveal to us the better versions of ourselves.


I liked the way Adebayo included the turmoils of Nigerian independence into the background, how it affects both Yejide and Akin, while also almost mirroring the lies and betrayals in their own marriage. I liked that she tackled other issues in Nigerian society, from the prevalence and devastation of sickle cell disease to the importance of education and the lengths that these women would go to in order to ensure that their children lived a much better life. I could empathise with that struggle, I could genuinely see why Yejide felt the way she did, why she made the choices she did, even when I disagreed with her approach.

Overall, this is a very nuanced and poignant book. The ending knocked off a star in my eyes, but I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to anyone who likes domestic dramas, Nigerian literature or wants to read what I count as an 'entry level' book set in that culture and society.

Really thought provoking read. I cannot imagine sharing my husband with another wife. This book looks at Nigeria pen marriage through he eyes of a husband and wife. They meet at university and both believe in monogamy ntil after 4 years things change.

A story of love, trust, passion, shaking this family asunder. What a fabulous read.

A wonderful book set in Nigeria kept me intrigued whilst engulfing me in the sights smells and characters of Lagos.

I absolutely loved this book and thought it was utterly fantastic.

Firstly, for a debut writer Adébáyọ̀̀ is stunningly accomplished. Her prose is beautiful and her command of narrative structure is sublime (more of that later).

The story is simultaneously unique and universally recognisable – the pressure and expectation to have a family transcend cultures and genders in Stay With Me. I loved that Adébáyọ̀̀ explored fertility issues with a male character (as well as a female one) as this subject is so often solely applied to women.

The strength of voice in Stay With Me is outstanding. Yejide is so real she is almost tangible – I felt her pain, understood her predicament and empathised with her completely, even when her actions were morally questionable. Similarly, her husband Akin is painted with such authenticity that you will be compelled by his every move.

I thought the structure of this book was particularly effective. Stay With Me moves between timeframes and narrators but it’s never clunky or forced – Adébáyọ̀̀ writes with such ease that the narrative courses smoothly along the lifetime of the protagonists. At points, Adébáyọ̀̀ alludes to information she has not yet provided, making you feel like you’ve missed something but then rewarding you with a twist, thrill, draw-dropping revelation or moment of such utter heartbreak that you stay up for another hour just to get more.

I found this book readable, but I'm afraid that the writing style seemed to me to lack polish, and consequently, although the story was interesting enough, I couldn't fully engage with it, or with any of the characters, who all seemed a bit lacking in depth in terms of characterisation.

Beautifully written and sad. It's really about the consequences of withholding the truth.

Brilliant read, a well known childhood tale during my time in Nigeria brought to reality with accurate social events throughout the timeline. I truly felt like a passenger throughout the different perspectives of Akin and Yejide. A Nigerian touch with 'Before you call a snail a weakling, tie your house to your back and carry it around for a week'

This book is a marvel of words and whispers from old souls, deeply charged with grief and hope at the same time. I was amazed by the structure of the novel and its intensity up til the very end. I had tears in my eyes by the end, that's how Adebayo managed to transform the reader and utterly grip his attention.

Akin and Yejide built their marriage on expectations and the common desire to have children. Yet the complexity of life comes between their individual plans and ruins everything. That is the big picture. The details are a cocktail of colorful neighbourhood practices, language, traditions and unnerving in-laws, jaw-dropping reasons for the what and why of things that happen all through the book.

The Nigeria portrayed between 1985 and 2008 is modern, exotic and at the same time like a timebomb politically speaking. The perfect setting matching the mood of the novel so well. Somehow, I got the feeling that the plot is literally in tune with the historical background: the beginning of the relationship between Akin and Yejide, the transition to democracy (the hope of having kids finally), the voting, the waiting (for a sign of love and at the same time the results of the voting), the violent protests (the climax when Yejide thinks she lost a child again).

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book, received as an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This book was one of the hardest to write review for. It deals with such complex and serious topics that after finishing it, I felt like I needed some breathing room for everything to sink in. But then I realised that’s exactly what I loved about it.

It’s written in a way that no one will be left indifferent to the story of Yejide, pressured by herself, as being a mother is her biggest desire, by her husband, by his family and by the society in general.

What does she have to go through to finally become the mother she wished to be?

On the other hand, Akin is the patriarch of this little family. He is the protector, the provider, the head of the yet-to-be family. But who is the actual leader? Who is the strongest among them through tragedy after tragedy? Many more questions will arise as you are going through the story. Don’t forget to leave some tissues beside you, you don’t want the tears to blur the words on the page.

I must admit, there were moments and few scenes that made me quite uncomfortable. But the whole experience and the ending was absolutely, one hundred percent worth the discomfort. Thank you NetGalley and Canongate Books for a free ARC, as always it in no way influenced my opinions and thoughts stated above.

I really like this book, and felt connected with author. It really keeps you going - there are some surprising twist and turn (when you least expect) and the journey characters go through - can be experienced universally.

Thank you Netgalley for this book (I think i'll pick this book for our BookSwap Club).

Yejide and Akin are a married couple living in Nigeria in the 80s. After 4 years of marriage and no baby, Akin’s family become insistent that something is done. That something is a new wife joining the household, and Yejide feels betrayed and desperate.


Told in alternating chapters through the eyes of each party, Stay With Me is colourful, revealing and devestating. Stay with Me follows the relationship between Yejide and Akin through it’s ups and downs over the years, through love, sacrifice and loss.

Oh my goodness, this book! I can’t give too many details of the plot as I don’t want to give away any spoilers. I will say that the story of the beginning of a family and the eventual shattering and disintegration of the household is both compelling and devestating. The dual nature of the narrative lends sympathy to both characters. It is heartbreaking to watch them make poor decisions and the way those decisions impact the other.

As a non African, I found the cultural differences around marriage and the expectation of children being actually enforced by the wider family both surprising and educational. While this does happen to a very minor degree here with hints being dropped and questions being asked nothing this impactful would be endured.What a lot of stress for a young couple to go through! Polygamy was also an interesting concept to see explored, particularly when it didn’t seem to be wanted by either Yejide or Akin. I can’t imagine trying to maintain a healthy relationship which contains a third person that you don’t want to be there.

I enjoyed seeing the 80s political climate of Nigeria through this lense as well and seeing how the changes affected the people on the ground.

This story will take you on a raw and emotional journey. Make sure you have the tissues on standby.

4 out of 5 interfering in-laws.

Shattering
This novel is set in Nigeria, we meet Yejide. She's happily married to the love of her life, Akin, the only trouble they face is having a child. Yejide just can't seem to become pregnant, this brings with it resentment from her in-laws and social community. Infertility is regarded very much as a tragedy, across most cultures. She struggles in her desire to have a child, and when her Akin's mother arranges a new marriage for Akin to remedy the situation, her desire is overwhelming. A new wife threatens Yejide, she can't bear him sharing his life so intimately with two women- as you can imagine.

In this journey, we witness first hand the incredible strength of a woman who feels broken inside, who loses those she loves and then builds herself back up. Her relationship with Akin used to be exhilarating, exciting, joyful but soon enough a wall is buit between them. I admired Yejide's maturity and while I was not naiive to the cultural barriers and prejudices that are pushed against women, such as the idea that a woman has failed her human duty if she can't produce a child or the way that men are typically ignored in such circumstances, it was impressively powerful to read how Yejide dealt with it. Especially so, because she didn't speak out, she believed she had failed, she felt hopeless...So often, this is reality and I appreciated how the author didn't skim over it or shine a prettier light on it and present it as a situation that just needs a little faith for it to all work out.

There was some predictability in this book but in a good way as the foreshadowing sort of prepares you for the secrets that Yejide doesn't know. It shines the torch on Akins's betrayal and secrets. It helps you understand. I saw things coming but, I was blown away by Akin's manipulative scheming. This book will make you choose sides. I'm with Yejide, her story shook me. To meet a woman who believes she's denied her husband of children, will change you. To meet a woman who finally achieves pregnancy and then is determined to be the best, most vigilant mother out there. To follow all the rules, and then lose out. Heart shattering: A woman who is a victim of her culture. I could read this book a dozen times, and I'd still feel shattered.

I received this book through NetGalley.

This would not usually be my type of book, so I was pleasantly surprised by it. The story is written by Ayobami Adebayo, a Nigerian author who appears to understand the universality of emotions regarding the loss of children and the hardships of sustaining relationships. The novel winds its way between intense moments to pure thrilling moments, all while magnifying the day-to-day traditions of Nigerians.

I eagerly await Ayobami’s next novel!

I was lucky enough to receive an ARC from Canongate on Netgalley

Not a book I enjoyed reading. I found it quite confusing the way it jumped back and forth, normally that isn't an issue for me but it just made the book very disjointed.

The story is told from Yejide and Ilesa point of view. In Two time lines , first after ilesa father died and he is getting ready for his funeral, and the other time line is early 80 and leading to funeral . The story is easy to understand and fellow and the two characters have distinctive voice .

The funny thing is from first chapter , her father wife and his uncle arrived, I knew why they came?
I remember my mum telling these sort of stories, happened to women she knew!!
But writing is magnificent, showing you what going in her head in that time.


Very heart wrenching for the couple and what they get through.( not for faint hearted).I was emotional throughout this book , but scene with doctor and Yejide first time actually made me cry!!!

Can I say this is very intense book, there were time I was angry with the two main characters and the same time feel sympathy for them.
Being this her first book,I can't wait for Ayobami Adebyo next book!!!!

‘Have you ever seen God in a labour room giving birth to a child? Tell me, Yejide, have you ever seen God in the labour ward? Women manufacture children and if you can’t? You are just a man. Nobody should call you a woman.’

Yejide and Akin have been married for two years when Akin’s mother begins bringing potential second wives to his office every Monday morning. When she threatens to start visiting Yejide with the women each week, Akin agrees to marry Funmi. The deciding factor? That she doesn’t insist on moving in with him. Instead, he installs her in a flat, leaving Yejide blissfully unaware of her existence.

At the beginning of the novel, and four years into Akin and Yejide’s marriage, Iya Martha, Yejide’s father’s oldest wife, and Baba Lola, Akin’s uncle, present Yejide with Funmi. They’re convinced that when Funmi gets pregnant Yejide will too.

I had expected them to talk about my childlessness. I was armed with millions of smiles. Apologetic smiles, pity-me-smiles, I-look-unto-God smiles, name all the fake smiles needed to get through an afternoon with a group of people who claim to want the best for you while poking at your open sore with a stick, and I had them ready.

Yejide is an educated woman with her own hairdressing salon business. She is smart, confident and independent, but the society she lives in isn’t constructed to recognise women as such. The lack of a pregnancy is seen as her shortcoming, and when Yejide calls Akin a bastard, Iya Martha criticises her for not allowing Funmi to stay in their house. She says Yejide should be grateful to her husband, while Yejide points out to the reader that she pays half of the rent.

The novel alternates between Yejide and Akin’s points of view. This structural decision adds depth, allowing Adébáyò to consider the effects of a patriarchal society which values gender constructs, particularly motherhood, from both a female and a male perspective. Adébáyò uses it particularly well for moments of dramatic irony, priming the reader for the point when the other half of the couple will discover a betrayal.

It’s obvious that Akin loves his first wife and not his second, but also that he feels torn between Yejide and his mother, who makes her expectations clear. As Funmi inserts herself further into their lives and Yejide tries everything – doctors, prophets, priests – in order to help her conceive, their marriage begins to feel the strain and both of them make choices that will have devastating consequences.

Stay With Me considers a patriarchal, patrilineal, heterosexual society’s expectations of a married couple. It examines the pressure for couples to produce children; the value that’s placed on the continuation of the bloodline.

Adébáyò incorporates something of the thriller genre with a few unexpected and shocking twists, while writing sentences as beautiful as these:

I did not feel better. I would not feel better for a very long time. Already, I was coming undone, like a hastily tied scarf, coming loose, on the ground before the owner knows it.

But even when it’s in a thousand pieces around your feet, that doesn’t mean it’s no longer love.

These days I tell myself that is why I stretched to accommodate every new level of indignity, so I could have someone who would look for me if I went missing.

Stay With Me is intelligent, provocative and gripping. Ayòbámi Adébáyò is an exciting new talent.

Set in Nigeria this book resonates with culture. The way that death is seen as a portent for life and the importance of raising a large family impact on the characters. Whilst a strongly written book in its own right, I did not really connect with either the characters or the setting.

Wow, this was absolutely intense. The whole book is intensely, compulsively readable and I sped through it in two sittings (and it only took two settings because I had to sleep inbetween).

Ayobami Adebayo tells the story of a marriage, its desintegration, and the hurt happening along the way. We first meet Yejide at a time when she hasn't seen her husband in 14 years and is now preparing to return for his father's funeral, then the story shifts back to the past where the couple is deperately trying to have a child. Both their families blame Yejide, going even so far as to arrange a second wife for her husband, Akin. This addition of a second wife is the starting point of a grueling few years and of a spiral of hurt and viciousness and painful mistakes.

What impressed me the most about this debut novel is the way Ayobami Adebayo created characters who are unpleasent and flawed and intensely aggrevating but still managed to make me feel and root for them. Yejide's intense wish for children and everything she goes through to have them was absolutely heartbreaking - and everybody's reaction to her 'failure' made my blood boil. While she herself is not without serious flaws her reactions and even her stupid decisions made sense considering the immense pressure she is under, for pretty much the whole book.

This is not a hopeful book; I feel the need to point that out. The situation the couple find themselves in is so unbelievably unpleasant that it is a wonder that the Yejide we meet in the beginning to able to function at all.

This tightly woven book is an impressive debut novel - not because of any fancy language but just based on the strength of the characters created. I am absolutely thrilled to see it on the Bailey's prize longlist and I am looking forward to reading Ayobami Adebayo's next book.

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I received an arc of this book curtesy of NetGalley and Canongate Books in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for that!