Even before Ghana Must Go was released this March, the publishing industry was abuzz about the prospects for Taiye Selasi’s debut novel. Selasi’s tale, about the complicated dynamics in an immigrant family, covers territory that will be both familiar and completely foreign to many readers. Over the past decade, authors such as Gary Shteyngart, Junot Diaz, and Jhumpa Lahiri have given readers views into the experience of characters straddling the old and new worlds. The African continent has remained largely off the literary map until now, but Selasi’s novel is likely to change that.

Ghana Must Go tells the story of Folasadé Savage, a Nigerian woman sent to study in America; her Ghanaian husband, Kweku Sai, who began his medical studies at the same university; and their four children. The book takes its name from a 1983 incident in which Ghanaians, fleeing a drought at home, were forced to leave Nigeria where they had been seeking respite. The novel skirts much of the political history of West Africa, though, focusing instead on the complex expectations, longings, and misunderstandings that percolate among the family members, across both generations and continents.

Selasi’s debut opens with Kweku’s death, a heart attack unfolding in slow motion as the surgeon stands “barefoot and breathless, alone in his garden, no strength left to shout.” At the same time, it crisscrosses time and space with a vision reminiscent of magical realism. From the difficult birth of Kweku’s youngest daughter, to his wrongful termination from a Boston hospital, and finally to his decision to leave his family in shame over his “failure to provide,” this is literally a man seeing his life flash before his eyes.

This is only one of many broken hearts in the novel. Despite her abandonment, Kweku’s ex-wife, Folasadé, finds a way to move on. But the decisions she makes in doing so, and the desperate attempts of her children to make things right by overachieving in anything they pursue, lead to a striking accumulation of sadness and anger. Whether in Lagos, New York, Boston, or Ghana, the characters all act out in ways that are painful, humiliating, and completely real. Selasi ambitiously addresses the common stereotypes of Africa by showing us humans in all their anguish and eagerness to find love. It works.

As the four children join their mother in Ghana for Kweku’s funeral, there is a measure of relief to be had. But Selasi doesn’t rely on any particular dramatic “reveal” to release the emotional tension. Rather, she lets her characters do the heavy lifting, unwinding lifetimes of doing what they were supposed to do at the expense of personal authenticity. Selasi writes with a poetic grace that manages to make the concerns of these “Afropolitans” universal. It’s an impressive feat, and one that signals the arrival of an important new writer.

I used to live in Botswana. I liked the country, but had no idea then that I would end up being involved in a rather long literary conversation with the place. That was twelve volumes of The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency ago. I have just finished writing volume thirteen of the series – The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection – to be published by Pantheon in April 2012.

The books tell the story of Precious Ramotswe, who uses the money she inherits from her father, the late Obed Ramotswe, to set up a small detective agency in Botswana’s capital, Gaborone. She knows nothing about being a private investigator, but she gets hold of a book that purports to tell you everything you need to know about such work. This is The Principles of Private Detection, by one Clovis Andersen, and it is to this book that Mma Ramotswe (Mma being the Setswana form of Miss or Mrs) resorts. Rather to my surprise, Andersen’s book seems to have aroused the interest of readers to the extent that I receive numerous requests for information as to where a copy of it may be purchased. I have decided that I shall have to write it myself, even if I know as little about private investigation as Mma Ramotswe did when she began.

At the moment, though, there is no time to write The Principles of Private Detection, as I am quite busy enough keeping up with the doings of Mma Ramotswe and her immediate circle. This circle includes her stalwart assistant, Grace Makutsi, who has the distinction of having achieved the highest grade ever awarded in the final examinations at the Botswana Secretarial College – 97 per cent. Mma Makutsi comes from a poor family and has had to work hard to get where she is. She has also consistently been eclipsed by more glamorous women who use their looks to secure advancement in their careers. Mma Makutsi has a difficult skin and wears very large round glasses. Fortunately there is a man who can see beyond all that and appreciate her very fine qualities. This is Phuti Radiphuti, the owner of The Double Comfort Furniture Store. Marriage is in the air, and eventually, in The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party the hope of Mma Makutsi come to fruition.

Mma Ramotswe’s heart is claimed at an early stage of the series by a mechanic, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni, who owns Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors. They become engaged at the end of the first book but do not marry until four volumes later, and even then he has to be somewhat cajoled to the altar. There is no question of his not being uxorious; it is more an issue of indecisiveness. That is probably his only failing: Mr J.L.B. Matekoni (and we never learn what the initials stand for) is the most gracious of men, who is kind and tolerant of the failings of others … especially of his two young apprentices, Fanwell and Charlie, who sorely try him. Charlie, in particular, shows great fecklessness, and is even once spotted taking a hammer to an engine. Of course there are numerous snares awaiting Charlie as he progresses through the series.

Those are the main characters. As to events – well, quite a lot happens but there are no real crimes in these books. The focus, rather, is on the small problems that people have in their lives – the doubts, the uncertainties, the minor conflicts with others. And this, I think, is the territory in which most of us lead our lives – the territory of small dramas and private passions. Mma Ramotswe helps people to deal with these things, solving their minor mysteries through the application of common sense and intuition, and, of course, the occasional piece of advice from Clovis Andersen.

The books present a positive picture, something for which I am occasionally criticized. My answer, though, is that there are very many positive aspects to countries in sub-Saharan Africa and that there is no reason why these should not be talked about in fiction. If the world I portray is one that gives plenty of room for human decency to manifest itself, then I am content with that, because I have seen plenty of instances of human decency and kindness in my lifetime, particularly in those years I spent in Africa. I have met many women like Mma Ramotswe and many men like Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. I hope to spend more time in their company, recording the life they lead in Botswana, drinking the occasional cup of red-bush tea with them, and talking about the world – and what’s right with it.

Chinua Achebe is one of the most distinguished voices in African literature. As Kwame Anthony Appiah, a contemporary philosopher and cultural theorist, states, “For so many readers around the world, it is Chinua Achebe who opened up the magic casements of African fiction.” Moreover, Achebe’s novel Things Fall Apart “may well be Africa's best-loved novel.”

Originally published in 1958, Things Fall Apart tells two intertwining stories centering on Okonkwo, a “strong man” of an Igbo village in Nigeria. Driven by a hatred for his artistically inclined father, who he perceives as lazy and weak, Okonkwo has quickly become one of the richest, most powerful, and feared men in his village. Famous for his irascibility and recklessness, however, his ascent inevitably comes to a standstill as he repeatedly defies the core principles of an Igbo society that idealizes tolerance above all else. And after accidentally killing a tribe member, Okonkwo must go into exile for seven years.

When protagonist Okonkwo returns after his long exile, he is unprepared as to how much his village has changed in his absence. Seeing his community under the influence of imperialism and Christian missionaries, he fears that his society’s unique culture is about to dissolve. Okonkwo cannot ignore this threat, and so he tries to incite a revolution. But akin to a Greek tragic hero, Okonkwo falls into a deep depression as nobody follows his desperate attempt. Unable to adapt to the new circumstances, he sees his world fall apart once more and decides to hang himself.

Man Booker Prize winner Chinua Achebe’s prose is understated but vigorous. Throughout the book, Achebe weaves Igbo metaphors and proverbs into his sentences as if he himself is trying to preserve the culture. His groundbreaking novel Things Fall Apart is a saddening disquisition of the most significant cut in African cultural history – and a rich and most compelling tale.