Big Small People by Jesundubami Jemima Aganaba

There’s something magical about curling up with a book, especially when you think it’s just going to be an easy, feel-good read. A warm drink in hand, a cozy blanket… you know the vibe. But every now and then, a story surprises you, it reaches in deep and stirs something real. That’s exactly what this book did to me.

Some books take your hand gently and lead you into their world. This one? It grabbed me by the heart and didn’t let go. From the first few pages, I could tell it wasn’t here to comfort—it was here to tell the truth. And sometimes, the truth is heavy.

At first, I honestly thought I was in for a light, maybe even funny read. I smiled. I laughed. The characters felt full of life and wit. But slowly, quietly, the tone began to shift. Before I knew it, I was no longer laughing. I was holding my breath, caught up in something haunting and deeply emotional. It was like the story had quietly tiptoed into my chest and made itself at home.

We follow three children—Ahmed, Stephanie, and Deborah. Each of them is carrying more than any child should ever have to. Their voices are so distinct, so full of pain and resilience, it’s impossible not to feel deeply connected to them.

The writing is simple. No fluff, no grand words. But that’s what makes it so powerful. It doesn’t shout. It lingers. It gets under your skin in the quietest way.

What hit me the hardest, though, was how familiar everything felt. The setting, the struggles, the heartbreak—it mirrors the reality many face here in Nigeria. The violence. The loss. The way survival sometimes feels like a full-time job. This book doesn’t look away from those truths. It faces them head-on, but with a softness that still manages to show care.

It’s not the kind of story you forget. It stays with you. And maybe, that’s exactly why it needs to be read.