Grant winning creator Helon Habila has been portrayed as “a valiant storyteller with an inflexible vision… a noteworthy ability” (Rawi Hage). His new novel Travellers is a groundbreaking experience with the individuals who have been evacuated by war or yearning, dread or expectation.

A Nigerian alumni understudy who has made his home in America recognizes striking out for new shores. At the point when his significant other suggests that he go with her to Berlin, where she has been granted a renowned expressions association, he has his reservations: “I realized each flight is a passing, every arrival a resurrection. Most changes happen impromptu, and they generally leave a scar.”

In Berlin, Habila’s focal character winds up tossed into contact with a network of African settlers and outcasts whose lives recently appeared to be far off from his own, however, to which he is progressively drawn. The dividers between his favored, secure presence and the narratives of these different Africans moving before long disintegrate, and his feeling of character starts to break up as he finds that he can never again isolate himself from others’ repulsions, or from Africa.

Growing up in middle-class Lagos, Nigeria during the late 1980s and early 1990s, Ihechi forms a band of close friends in his neighborhood. They discover Lagos together as teenagers whose differing ideologies come to the fore over everything from film to football, Fela Kuti to God, sex to politics. They remain close-knit until Ihechi’s girlfriend, is killed in an anti-government riot.

Exiled by his concerned mother, Ihechi moves in with his uncle’s family, where he struggles to find himself outside his former circle of friends. Ihechi eventually finds success by leveraging his connection with a notorious prostitution linchpin and political heavyweight, and earning favor among the ruling elite.

But just as Ihechi is about to make his final ascent into the elite political class, he encounters his childhood friends and experiences a crisis of conscience that forces him to question his motives and who he wants to be.

Best mates Karl and Abu are both 17 and live near Kings Cross. It’s 2011 and racial tensions are set to explode across London. Abu is infatuated with gorgeous classmate Nalini but dares not speak to her. Meanwhile, Karl is the target of the local ‘wannabe’ thugs just for being different.

When Karl finds out his father lives in Nigeria, he decides that Port Harcourt is the best place to escape the sound and fury of London, and connect with a Dad he’s never known.

Rejected on arrival, Karl befriends Nakale, an activist who wants to expose the ecocide in the Niger Delta to the world. Increasingly distant from happenings in London, Karl falls headlong for Nakale’s feisty cousin, Janoma.

Meanwhile, the murder of Mark Duggan triggers a full-scale riot in London. Abu finds himself caught up in its midst, leading to a tragedy that forces Karl to race back home.

Face Me I Face You is a collection of poems existing at the interface of identity, class, and African culture. It holds a mirror to the working class by capturing the narrative essence and dramatized aspirations of its characters. The deployed humor fondly humanizes our modern realities and reaches beyond the tragedy of these colorful archetypes of city life.