” ‘Each maji was born with white hair, the sign of the gods’ touch.  They used their gifts to care for the people of Orïsha and were revered throughout the nation.  But not everyone was gifted by the gods.’  Mama Agba gestures around the room.  ‘Because of this, every time new maji were born, entire provinces rejoiced, celebrating at the first sight of their white coils.  The chosen children couldn’t do magic before they turned thirteen, so until their powers manifested, they were called the ibawi, ‘the divine.’ ‘
Bisi lifts her chin and smiles, remembering the origin of our divîner title.  Mama Agba reaches down and tugs on a strand of her white hair, a marker we’ve all been taught to hide.
‘The maji rose throughout Orïsha, becoming the first kings and queens.  In that time everyone knew peace, but that peace didn’t last.  Those in power began to abuse their magic, and as punishment, the gods stripped them of their gifts.  When the magic leached from their blood, their white hair disappeared as a sign of their sin.  Over generations, love of the maji turned to fear.  Fear turned into hate.  Hate transformed into violence, a desire to wipe the maji away.’ “

Zélie is one of the maji, born a few years before King Saran wiped out as many of the maji as he could, slaughtering them in what they began to call The Raid.  Her mother was one of the murdered, killed just for being who she is.  With their magic now suppressed, all the maji are second class citizens, easily identifiable for their white hair.  They are called maggot, seen as inferior, and are frequently beaten and killed.
Amari is daughter of the king, raised in the palace with her brother, Inan.  She may have every advantage, yet she still feels inadequate.  Her skin isn’t light enough, she isn’t tough enough, and her only friend is her chambermaid, Binta (also one of the maji).  When Binta is murdered by her father, Amari leaves the palace.  She stumbles into the path of Zélie and her brother, Tzain, who help her escape.  This starts the three of them on the path to bring back the magic to the magi, and to restore their place as celebrated, and not feared.  Pursued by Amari’s brother, Inan, captain of the royal guard, and heir to the throne, they travel across Orïsha on their quest.  Amari must come to terms with who her father truly is, and learns more about what he has done.  Zélie must learn to trust those around her, especially those that can help her achieve what she desires.

While this is a work of fantasy, Tomi Adeyemi deals with some very real issues in her debut novel.  We recommend reading the Author’s Note at the end of the book before you begin the novel.

“Although riding giant lionaires and performing  sacred rituals might be in the realm of fantasy, all the pain, fear, sorrow and loss in the this book is real.
Children of Blood and Bone was written during a time where I kept turning on the news and seeing stories of unarmed black men, women and children being shot at by the police.  I felt afraid and angry and helpless but this book was the one thing that made me feel like I could do something about it.”

Tomi channels this power into her story and uses a fantastical setting to explore oppression, racism, colorism and genocide.  While the daughter of the king and queen, Amari’s skin color comes under scrutiny.  She isn’t light enough for the royals, and her skin color is a constant topic of conversation within the palace.  During dinner at the palace, the queen compliments one of their dinner guests for looking very regal.  Her daughter, Amari, understands the subtle subtext of this comment:

I bite my tongue and drain the rest of my tea.  Though Mother says ‘regal,’ the word ‘lighter’ hides behind her lips.  Like the regal oloyes who can proudly trace their lineage back to the royal families who first wore Orïsha’s crown.
Not common, like the farmers who toil the fields of Minna, or Lagos’s own merchants bartering their wares in the sun.  Not unfortunate like me, the princess Mother is almost too ashamed to claim.

Though the maji have white hair, their skin color is described as a dark mahogany, also speaking to the “darker is worse” mentality.  It gives the royals another reason to despise the maji.  It’s hard to not draw parallels from the senseless killings in the book to the Black Lives Matter movement.  Reading about the same situations in a fantasy novel can give readers a different perspective, and can help translate into real life interactions.  At the very least, it continues an important conversation about our own world.  In the world of YA fantasy, representation matters.  Young adults in today’s society were brought up on Harry Potter and the Hunger Games, worlds where teenagers changed the world.  After the Parkland shooting, it was the students of the school (teenager/young adults) who stood up, said enough is enough, and demanded action.  Hopefully we can see a similar shift in the next generation, as the young community stops oppression and acknowledges all stories/backgrounds/colors as worthy and important.

Before you think this novel is all political in nature, the teen romance has to be mentioned.  What kind of young adult novel would be complete without some star-crossed lovers?  The relationships feel real, not contrived, and while they come from opposite places, you truly want them to find common ground.

This book is the first in a trilogy, and we eagerly await the next two installments, and also for the motion picture which is currently in production.