Mazi Nwonwu: “In Nigeria, storytelling is rich with the fantastical”
Nigerian writer, curator and editor Chiagozie Fred Nwonwu on the originality of African speculative fiction, which steers clear of repackaging Western tropes
Nigerian writer Chiagozie Fred Nwonwu was born in a quiet village in the south eastern state of Enugu. He writes under the pen name Mazi Nwonwu and curates and edits the country’s foremost literary publication, Omenana magazine, which publishes African speculative fiction by writers from Africa and the African diaspora.
Ever since the magazine was launched in 2014, the state of African speculative fiction, particularly in Nigeria, has been transformed. The initial years, however, were difficult. Publishers in Nigeria rejected Nwonwu’s works outright. The resultant frustration led to the formation of Omenana. As a result, writers from Nigeria and beyond now have a space to showcase their work. The genre too is no longer sidelined and Omenana has become a launchpad for new voices.
“We’ve produced incredible writers who are making waves globally. Africanfuturism, a term coined by Nnedi Okorafor, has gained traction, particularly after Brittle Paper’s Africanfuturism Anthology. Science fiction, once scarce in Nigerian writing, is now thriving, with authors like Wole Talabi, Tade Thompson, Chikodili Emelumadu, Ogenechovwe Ekpeki and Suyi Davies Okungbowa leading the charge,” Nwonwu says.
African speculative fiction doesn’t just comprise of repackaged Western tropes. “We we bring distinct cultural perspectives, folklore, and histories that expand the genre’s possibilities. Take the Sauútiverse, a collaborative African world-building project. The first anthology, “Mothersound,” showcases a beautifully realised universe crafted by diverse African writers. It’s a testament to how much we have to offer,” he says.
Origins and themes of speculative fiction in Nigeria
In Nigeria, and across Africa, storytelling is rich with the fantastical — talking animals, spirits, magical beings, and journeys between worlds. They were never thought of as fiction; in fact, they formed a part of reality, woven into people’s cultural beliefs.
“My people, the Igbo, are known for their entrepreneurial spirit, which often takes them far from home. My father embodied this tradition, moving to Kaduna in northern Nigeria to run a small medicine shop. When I was five, I joined him, leaving my mother behind in the village. I only saw her once a year, during Christmas, when we made the long trip home. I remember missing my mother a lot back then, and I also remember the folk stories she told me. The stories became a source of comfort,” says Nwonwu whose deep love for speculative fiction is rooted in those childhood tales.
Speculative fiction is the original African storytelling, Nwonwu says. It’s always been there, long before they had a name for it. Even as modernity tightens its grip, and Christianity and Islam reshape belief systems, traces of that old world remain. Sometimes, they even find new life within those religions, reinforcing rather than erasing their connection to the supernatural. That lingering belief in the unseen, the possibility of the extraordinary within the ordinary, continues to fuel Nwonwu’s imagination.
Nigeria, and the Igbo culture in particular, offers a vast well of inspiration from folklores, myths, or cultural elements. Nwonwu’s work blends traditional beliefs with modern speculative fiction, often reinterpreting old practices in futuristic settings. One recurring theme is the mmanwu, or masquerade society — an integral part of Igbo communal life. Mmanwu are masked ancestral spirits, used for law enforcement, entertainment, and rituals.
“Two stories in my collection explore different aspects of this tradition — one set in a futuristic Nigeria, another on a distant planet, examining initiation rites and childhood games involving the spirits. Another constant is the role of the extended family. In many African societies, family bonds remain strong despite modernization. While some narratives focus on family interference in personal affairs, I highlight the mediation and support they provide. In my culture, there’s no single word for “cousin” or “uncle.” To say cousin in Igbo in the western way, you resort to an unwieldy phrase: “my father’s brother’s son”. The words we have for relations are “nwanne m” (my mother’s child) or “nwanna m” (my father’s child). This deep sense of kinship persists even in my futuristic settings — because no matter how advanced we become, community remains at our core, I believe,” he explains.
Migration, Nwonwu says, is another key theme. The Igbo are travellers, but they remain deeply connected to our ancestral lands. Many return home every year; those who don’t still believe they will — if not in life, then in death. One of his stories follows a businessman, centuries into the future, whose friends fight to bring his body back to Earth for burial, honouring an age-old tradition even in the space travelling world of the future.
“At the heart of it, my stories are an intentional act of cultural preservation. As the world changes, I want to ensure our narratives remain alive,” he adds.
Journalism and storytelling
Another significant facet of Nwonwu’s writing career is his work as an investigative journalist. Journalism, he says, pays the bills, and it often takes priority, leaving little energy for fiction. However, his journalistic training is a huge asset because it helps him incorporate Nigerian social issues into his fiction. His stories tackle issues like corruption, migration, or tradition versus modernity, and he is able to present these issues with nuance, let them unfold naturally within the narrative by allowing characters to express different viewpoints, and letting the reader engage critically.
“I approach research with a rigour that strengthens my world-building. Journalism also teaches me to see multiple perspectives, ensuring my characters’ voices are distinct and authentic. So, while it sometimes steals time from my fiction, it also enriches it in ways I can’t ignore. If I had my way, I’d sit by a window in my father’s house in the village, writing stories all day. But reality has other plans.”
One of the Nigerian authors that Nwonwu grew up reading was Cyprian Ekwensi; his books, he says, captured a sense of wonder. “He may not be widely recognized as a speculative fiction writer, but some of his stories fit within the genre. His Passport of Mallam Ilia remains a favorite. I also admire Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, particularly for her commitment to truth in storytelling — Half of a Yellow Sun is a masterclass in that regard. But stylistically, I lean toward Chinua Achebe’s accessibility. I want my work to be engaging, clear, and true to its roots, ensuring it remains readable for a wide audience,” says Nwonwu.
A good place to start reading African speculative fiction is Nwonwu’s How to Make a Space Masquerade available on Omenana Magazine
Arunima Mazumdar is an independent writer. She is @sermoninstone on Twitter and @sermonsinstone on Instagram.
