A young woman loses her grip on reality, destroyed by being the mistress of a powerful general. A pastor hides the innocent from marauding gangs hyped up by post- election fervor. A philosophy professor struggles against his better judgment to save everyone but himself. In present day Nigeria, there are many centers of the universe. Told from various points of view, The Sound of Things to Come departs from the strictures of linear narratives. Loosely centered on the activities of a church, the many colorfully drawn characters in Emmanuel Iduma's breakthrough novel illuminate the complex interconnectedness of a community where individuals struggle through their own painful dramas. First published in 2012 as Farad in Nigeria, Iduma's novel is the disruptive harbinger of Nigeria's rising generation of writers.
“The Sound of Things to Come, Emmanuel Iduma's formally adventurous and uncommonly sophisticated debut, seduces us into becoming witnesses to the quiet desperation in the lives of a diverse cast of sympathetically drawn characters. The gradual revelation of the connections between these disparate lives illuminates the unpredictable workings of our common humanity and compels us to confront our shared vulnerabilities. The Sound of Things to Come privileges the road less travelled in its aesthetic choices. It is an essential read for anyone interested in unconventional fictional investigations of contemporary experience.” —Rotimi Babatunde
"Like an expert charmer, Emmanuel Iduma strings the reader along with delectable character portraits, building anticipation until the last page. THE SOUND OF THINGS TO COME announces the arrival of another talented writer." — Abubakar Adam Ibrahim
“Style and thematic matrix create a sense of the uncanny. Terse but lyrical prose and often-cryptic dialogue suggest hidden depths. Woven throughout are fragments of a shared postmodern culture that brackets Dostoyevsky and Kate Chopin, Eliot and Mia Couto, Hollywood and Nollywood, Europop and hip-hop, email and Twitter, elliptical quotes, as from Tóibín's The Story of the Night and Mercier's Night Train to Lisbon, and bits of songs that sign both angst and 'a new dawn,' like Michael Bublé's cover of 'Feeling Good' and Colbie Caillat's 'The Little Things.' Together they convey alienation and the thirst for connection and meaning.” — Michele Levy