What Lurks Beneath: Nana Sule on Her Debut, Not So Terrible People

Nana Sule is always a writer to look out for. Her works are never anything short of astonishing—quiet storms that linger long after the last word. So the buzz around her debut collection is neither surprising nor misplaced.

There are stories that knock gently, and there are those that slip through the cracks. The kind that feel like memories you’re not entirely sure belong to you. Not So Terrible People is of the latter category. A haunting, elegant collection echoing the eerie lullabies of childhood myths, quiet hauntings, and the many things that live just beneath the skin of ordinary life.

Nana Sule—writer, journalist, and communications strategist—is no stranger to liminal spaces. Nana crafts stories that feel familiar yet are imbued with the unexpected. Her works have been published in Agbowo, Isele, and Arts-Muse Fair. She was the first runner-up for the 2022 Alitfest Prize for Fiction and was longlisted for the 2023 Sevhage Prize for Fiction for her short story, Owanyi. She also won the 2024 Eugenia Abu/Sevhaage Prize for creative non-fiction.

Ahead of the her debut collection release on May 14th with Masobe Books, we asked Nana a few questions—not just about the stories themselves, but about what it means to write from myth and memory, to give voice to the unseen, and to craft a world where even the most terrifying beings might not be so terrible after all.

Because Not So Terrible People isn’t just a book—it’s an arrival. A soft reckoning cloaked in fiction. And if these small glimpses into her mind stir something in you—curiosity, nostalgia, maybe even a little fear—just wait until you step into the stories and meet who—or what’s—been waiting behind the pages.

Welcome Nana, we appreciate you doing this for us. The title “Not So Terrible People” is deliciously intriguing, almost like a polite warning. Who exactly are these “not so terrible” people? Should we be afraid of them… or of what they reflect back at us? 

Oh, but you have to read it to find out. What kind of writer would I be if I’m giving out spoilers now? So read, and discover them for yourself. 

 

In the stories, your characters lead seemingly ordinary lives, yet beneath their surface, there’s always something more, something hidden. How does this reflect the way we, as humans, often mask our true selves? Do you ever find yourself looking at someone and wondering what they might be hiding beneath their skin?

Well, you are right in the sense that I drew a lot of inspiration from the multiplicity of human existence. I believe we're all capable of a vast range of things that exist between black and white. That’s partly what I tried to portray in the stories.

I’m also wary of the idea of a “true self” or “true colors.” I think most people are simply trying to present the best versions of themselves in public, and I find that noble. When circumstances force us to reveal other sides, we’re not becoming less true—we’re just becoming different versions of ourselves, shaped by context, stress, or survival. That doesn’t mean we’re always good, or that our actions should always be excused— especially when they cause harm to others or to ourselves— but I do believe that even our best and worst selves are just part of being human. Everyone is capable of a little bit of madness.

As for people, I don’t spend too much time trying to guess what they’re hiding. But I do wonder about inanimate objects. I’ll see a toy and think, “What if it had a soul?” Or imagine stones and what becomes of them at the end of the world. I love to collect stones and shells from places I’ve been to, I often wonder if they sit in their jar telling each other stories of their origin. It’s fun! Or a painting stepping off its canvas and into life. It’s those kinds of questions that stir my imagination the most.

In one of your recent podcast episodes, “Laila,” we caught a glimpse of—djinn, devil, or something in between—and it instantly reminded me of my grandmother’s tales about spirits she swore she’d encountered in human form, always betrayed by the hoofed feet they could never quite hide. Are the stories in Not So Terrible People shaped by such stories? And have you ever had an encounter like that?

Thankfully, I’ve never encountered anything quite that out of the ordinary, and honestly, I consider that a blessing. But yes, I’ve grown up around those stories. Like you said, many of us were raised on tales of the otherworldly. One that has always stayed with me is the belief that markets aren’t just for humans. They’re places of convergence, where spirits and people move side by side, often unknowingly.

So yes, Not So Terrible People is shaped, in part, by those myths. They linger in the background of our lives, shaping how we see the world, even if we no longer tell them around fires or under the stars

You said, in your interview with sevhage, these stories were shaped by real encounters with djinns shared in your childhood. But memory isn’t always passive. Sometimes remembering feels like summoning. Did writing these stories feel like you were opening a door? And do you ever wonder what might come through it?

I am not opening a door, Abeg o! I am just telling stories. And no, I didn’t feel like I was unlocking something. By virtue of my religion, I do believe in the existence of jinns and angels, so writing stories that feature them doesn’t feel like I’m inviting them in. They’re already here, in one form or another.

In Islamic mythology, we have jinn companions (Qarins), and we’re always accompanied by at least two angels, the Kiraman Katibin, noble scribes who record our deeds. So whether I’m aware of them or not, they’re already with me.

Will they reveal themselves? I really hope not! Let’s all just stay in our lanes, in our own worlds.

“Not So Terrible People” is such a disarming title, it suggests both empathy and mischief. Who, in this collection, best embodies that tension between being terrible and being terribly human?

This is a tough question, honestly. I’d love to say that every character embodies that tension, but I’m not sure I can pick just one. Perhaps that’s something readers will have to explore for themselves, and I’m curious to hear everyone’s thoughts soon.