HERE IS THE STUNNING DEBUT from a fresh Nigerian literary voice: a mesmerizing, deceptively simple, Kafkaesque narrative, resonant of the myth of Orpheus andEurydice and lightly informed by the life of Nigerian musical superstar Fela Kuti—powerful story of love, sacrifice and courage. The day a stained brown envelope is delivered from Taduno’s homeland, he knows that the time has come to return from exile. Arriving full of hope, the musician discovers that his people no longer recognize him, and no one recalls his voice. His girlfriend, Lela, has disappeared, abducted by government agents. Taduno wanders through his house in search of clues, but all traces of his old life have been erased. As he becomes aware that all that is left of himself is an emptiness, Taduno finds new purpose: to unravel the mystery of his lost life and to find his lost love. But soon he must face a difficult decision: to fight the power or save his woman, to sing for love or for his people. “Burning with magic and loss, exile and return, beauty and heartache, Taduno’s Song is a colossal epic disguised as a small novel.”— Marlon James , author of the Man Booker Prize-winning A Brief History of Seven Killings . "This quiet novel is an original. It is as if the writer, Mr. Atogun, has plunged into the depth the sea of Nigeria's history and returned with a leviathan, and has invited us to see—and be amused, troubled, scared, and even angry. And we can not help but look"— Chigozie Obioma , author of the American Library Association's top debut novel, The Fishermen "Uniting a retelling of the Orpheus myth, an indictment of totalitarian inhumanity, and a Kafkaesque meditation on identity within the spare language of fable, Atogun’s memorable debut novel testifies to the power of both oppression and art"— Publishers Weekly (starred review) "Atogun is not without Kafka's often humane and comic touches. Like Orwell, Atogun excels in plain language, in reducing situations to their bare essentials. Yet the author resists reducing his characters to mere political symbols. They are compelling as people in their own right."— Bookpage "This beautiful little book deserves a place on the shelf. Thoughtful readers will be enthralled."— Library Journal ODAFE ATOGUN was born in Nigeria, in the town of Lokoja, where the Niger and Benue rivers meet. He studied journalism at the Times Journalism Institute in Lagos and is now a fulltime writer. He is married and lives in Abuja. ONE The morning the letter arrived he was like a man in ashell, deaf to the voices in his head from a distant place,calling him, imploring him with old promises.   It was a dull morning with no hint of sun, no hint ofrain, no hint of anything; just a dull morning that broughta letter in a stained brown envelope from his homeland,delivered by an elderly postman wearing horn-rimmedspectacles and boots twice the size of his feet.   Studying the handwriting on the envelope, his eyes litup in recognition. But then a frown crept across his faceand he wondered how a letter simply marked TADUNO –no last name, no address, just Taduno – managed to reachhim in a nameless foreign town. He thought of asking thepostman how he found him with no address, but becausehe could not speak the language of the people of thattown, he merely gave a small nod of thanks and watchedthe elderly man drag himself away in his oversized bootsuntil he became a speck in the distance.   The letter changed the tone of his day and he knew, even before he began to read it, that the time had come for him to go back. He had always known that that day would come, but he never suspected it would be prompted by a mysterious letter portending a vague but grave disaster.He settled into a chair by an open window and studied the empty street. He saw no movement, no life, nothing; just an emptiness that came at him in waves. A small sigh escaped him, and as the barking of a lone dog cracked the quiet neighbourhood, he adjusted his seat for a better view of the street. He saw the dog a little way off, scrawny and lonely, wandering with an invisible burden on its tired back. It was the first and only time he would see a dog in that town, and he suspected that, like himself, it must have strayed into exile from a country governed by a ruthless dictator. He felt sorry for the dog. He shook his head and began to read the letter.                                                                                                    20th February, 19— Dear Taduno, I hope you are very well and that the country where you have found refuge is treating you kindly. I know you’ll wonder how I managed to get this letter across to you without an address. Well, all I can say is ‘where there is a will there is always a way’.   At first I did not want to write because I thought you deserve the opportunity to start life afresh and build new memories. But I must confess that ever since you left, life has been an unbearable torture for me