TITLE: Wanjikũ, Child of Mine

AUTHOR: Ciiku Ndung’u‑Case

(Illustrated by Karen Vermeulen)

PUBLISHER: Catalyst Press 

LOCAL PUBLISHER: Mvua Press (Africa except South Africa)

REVIEWER: Virginia Clay

AVAILABILITY: Available at shop.ekitabu.com

AUDIENCE: Age range 6–9 years (grades 2–3), though its emotional depth may well embrace older readers

PRICE: Ksh850 (Print)

Wanjiku, Child of Mine by Ciku Ndung’u-Case is a picture‑book that oozes heart and authenticity. Young Wanjikũ invites us into her world that smells of smoke and ashes as her grandmother lights the three-legged stove to make porridge, instantly transporting readers into the well‑worn rhythms of Kenyan countryside life. This bucolic environment, which does not function without Wanjiku’s inputs of goat tending and water carrying, is so vividly rendered that anyone familiar with growing up in rural Kenya under the care of their grandparents will feel instantly at home.

Even for those readers who have not experienced such a setting, the imagery is enticing, with descriptions of the layer of porridge at the bottom of the pot as, “crunchy, smoky, burnt, roasted, crusty, thick and sprinkled with salt” and served only to Cucu’s favourite grandchild of the day who — Wanjiku tells us conspiratorially — is most often her. This is a deeply personal moment but somehow universally evocative at the same time. Following this beginning in her grandmother’s village, Wanjiku’s narrative weaves through two other distinct stages — school life in bustling Nairobi (where she becomes "Catherine") and then boarding school, with a diverse set of other young women that includes a core group of Gikũyũ girls with whom she feels an irreplaceable bond. Here Wanjikũ is her true, reclaimed self.

A resonant exploration of identity

At its core, Wanjikũ, Child of Mine is about identity — including our sense of belonging and the names we carry. The book repeatedly offers: “No matter where she goes — or how big she grows — Wanjikũ knows her name.” It’s a powerful refrain, both simple and profound, inviting introspection on cultural roots and selfhood.

Illustrations that speak when words are quiet

Karen Vermeulen’s illustrations are a triumph — lush, pattern‑rich and emotionally attuned. They navigate between vibrant village landscapes and Nairobi’s urban pulse with seamless artistry. Critics have noted that her “calm brushstrokes” often convey what words leave unsaid, creating powerful, reflective visual moments.

The author’s mission and its merits

Ciiku Ndung’u‑Case brings this story to us from a place of deep intention. As founder of the Cheza Nami Foundation — committed to play‑based cultural education and diversity awareness — this work extends her broader mission. A first‑generation immigrant with a background in molecular biology and strategic planning, she contributes a unique voice that is at once passionate, culturally grounded and driven.

The book’s selections also speak volumes: it is a Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selection and a CBC Spring 2024 Showcase pick — recognitions that affirm its literary and cultural value.

Elevating the good to the exceptional

While the book is undeniably beautiful, it feels as though it might have benefited from a more rigorous editorial collaboration. The story takes us through a potted history of Wanjiku’s upbringing, from young girl to young woman, which is an enormous span of time for a young reader to follow. If the author were to focus on just one of those periods of her life, it would be a rich and worthwhile pursuit. 

The narrative transitions feel abrupt and lack some transitional markers: while the illustrations do help to lead us where the author wants to go, in some cases these are not enough to explain the passing of time or the cultural backstory. Even the eponymous heroine being named after one of the daughters of Mumbi (the first Gikũyũ woman) — which is of deep significance to Wanjiku’s sense of identity — is not properly explained and might leave non-Gikũyũ readers in confusion for a few pages. A developmental edit would have helped smoothen these arcs and clarify timeframes.

Looking at tonality and audience awareness, picturebooks typically suit ages 0–5, and make use of spare, rhythmic language and patterned repetition. This book is more word‑dense and complex, however, aimed at ages 6–9, but at times, simplifying select passages or reinforcing patterns could make it more accessible without diluting its depth.

There are small inconsistencies — like a final prompt referencing an empty page (“How many animals can you find?”) with no follow‑up page — and this can pull readers out of immersion. A sharper editorial eye, unfazed by subject reverence, would have caught such misalignments.

The inclusion of a glossary and Gikũyũ origin story is valuable, yet the inconsistent use of asterisks to cue those terms may confuse readers.

It sometimes feels as though the book wears its mission on its sleeve rather than unfolding as artful storytelling. This is likely because Ciiku is primarily a cultural advocate, not a seasoned children’s author — employing an editor more experienced in picture-book narratives might have helped balance her passion with narrative structure.

Why It matters

Despite these observations, the book remains utterly charming, laugh‑out‑loud funny, and deeply moving. It portrays resilience — how children raised by grandparents in the countryside, by a nanny in the city and then at boarding school, with little parental presence, can grow up self‑reliant and perceptive. It’s a voice seldom heard in children’s literature and one that heralds a new and powerful wave of African storytelling by Africans, for Africans, built on richly contextual narrative and identity affirmation.

Beginning of a new wave

Wanjikũ, Child of Mine is a love letter to Kenyan childhood, identity and belonging. Its evocative sensory language and beautiful visuals offer both insiders and newcomers a doorway into a world alive with culture and self‐discovery. To be truly exceptional, it may benefit from stronger editorial shaping, but even in its present form, it proudly heralds the arrival of new and long-awaited African voices in children's literature.

Virginia Clay is a Nairobi-based children’s author and editor. virginiaclay.co.uk