Inspired by true events, The Stolen Daughter is a gripping and unforgettable story about overcoming unimaginable hardship against all the odds, and the unending courage and strength of women in a world ruled by men.
In a small, peaceful village in Western Africa, fourteen-year-old Ṣìkẹmi dreams of being like the boys, learning how to hunt and defend herself. But as her father reminds her often, in order to make her family proud she must live by the rules and marry well.
Soon, everything Ṣìkẹmi loves shatters in an instant. Her beloved village is raided and Ṣìkẹmi is taken from her family to work for Madam Tinúbú, a rich and powerful slave trader. As she begins her new life alone, Ṣìkẹmi’s only comfort is the memory of her little brother’s laughter as they played together before she drifts off to restless sleep.
Ṣìkẹmi longs to see her family again and she knows deep down that the only way to survive her brutal new life is to be her enemy’s greatest ally. When she uncovers a plot against Madam, Ṣìkẹmi faces an impossible decision. Can she stay faithful to a ruthless slave trader who has taken everything she ever loved if it means she might see her family again? Or will her own life and that of her family be in even greater danger?
Adaora Nwoye –
The Stolen Daughter is a historical fiction novel set in 1848 West Africa, and it tells a brutal, necessary story about slavery from an African lens, before the ships, before the Middle Passage, before the version of history we’re usually handed.
We follow Ṣìkẹ́mi, a fourteen-year-old girl whose life is violently disrupted when her village is attacked and she is captured and sold. From that moment on, the story becomes one of survival — physical, emotional, and psychological.
What stood out to me most is that Ṣìkẹ́mi is not written as a helpless victim. She is angry. She is observant. She resists where she can, adapts where she must, and holds tightly to the hope of returning home. Her strength doesn’t come from being fearless; it comes from refusing to let captivity erase who she is.
The author does not soften the realities of enslavement. The fear, the power imbalance, the violence, the loss of agency — it’s all there. It shows how systems are built, how people are broken by them, and how some still manage to endure.
Another thing I appreciated is the historical depth. This book explores internal slave trade within Yorùbá land, the roles Efunsetan Tinubu, Ajayi Crowther, Akitoye, Kosoko played, the politics the British and Brazilians played in badagry and Lagos, and the uncomfortable truth that oppression wasn’t always foreign. That nuance adds weight to the story and makes it deeply unsettling in the best way.
The pacing is steady, and the emotional impact builds quietly until you realize you’re fully invested in Ṣìkẹ́mi’s fate.