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Exclusive interview with acclaimed author Lola Akinmade Åkerström on her novel Bitter Honey

From the title alone, Bitter Honey offers a subtle warning, what begins as something golden and sweet slowly reveals its bitter edge. But nothing quite prepares the reader for the emotional intensity and layered storytelling that follow. In the hands of award-winning travel writer, photographer, and bestselling author Lola Akinmade Åkerström, the narrative unfolds with haunting precision, revealing truths in fragments, building tension through silence, and leaving the reader breathless at every turn.

Akinmade Åkerström, whose debut novel In Every Mirror She's Black was an international bestseller, and whose follow-up Everything Is Not Enough solidified her as a powerful literary voice, returns with a story that spans four decades and three continents Bitter Honey follows Nancy and Tina, a mother and daughter divided by secrets, history, and silence, as they struggle to understand each other while forging their own paths.

Drawing on her rich experience as a Nigerian-born, Stockholm-based travel writer and National Geographic contributor, Lola brings a global sensibility and deep cultural insight to the page. With her signature nuance, she tackles complex themes,  love, betrayal, race, migration, religion, sexuality, and the politics of power, without ever losing sight of the deeply human stories at the centre.

We sat down with Lola to delve into the heart of Bitter Honey: from its powerful characters and unexpected plot twists, to the cultural research and emotional truths that shaped the book. This conversation is as layered and moving as the novel itself.

NB: Spoiler Alert

Let’s start with the title, Bitter Honey is both tender and painful. What inspired this choice, and what does it represent for you?

Absolutely. The original title was The Deepest Well, inspired by a Swedish proverb: “The deepest well can also be drained.” It symbolised Nancy’s journey, a woman who has given so much love, she’s left empty. But my publisher felt it sounded too much like a thriller. So, I went back to the drawing board and came up with Bitter Honey. Honey is sweet, but it can turn bitter,  just like love and memories. It’s also the colour of Lars and Tina’s eyes, which start off warm and glowing, but over time become painful reminders of past mistakes.

Lola's third novel, Bitter Honey, Image:Supplied

The plot is emotionally charged and full of unexpected turns. What was the writing process like, and where did the inspiration come from?

Readers of my earlier novels, In Every Mirror She’s Black and Everything Is Not Enough, might remember Nancy and Tina as side characters, glimpses into lives not yet fully told. Nancy’s story quietly began in 2021, when Tobias briefly mentioned his Gambian-Swedish background and alluded to long-buried family secrets. I knew then that her story needed to be explored in full. Tina, too, once introduced as an outspoken activist, was formerly a pop star. I was curious about her evolution, about what shaped her voice and rage.

These narrative threads were already rich with potential, and that’s where Bitter Honey began. I started plotting the novel more than two years ago, writing in fragments and letting the characters live in my mind. Then, in December 2023, with a looming deadline, I poured out 45,000 words in just one month. A personal shift, meeting someone who reignited my creative energy, gave me the emotional clarity and drive I needed to finish. While the writing itself moved quickly, I had been emotionally living with these characters for a long time. That’s how I always write, the story builds internally until it’s ready to come out.

You’re Nigerian, yet Nancy is Gambian. Why tell this story from a different cultural perspective?

Nancy was already Gambian in my earlier novels, so I stayed true to that. And it made sense, in Sweden, where I’ve lived for 15 years, the largest West African immigrant communities are Gambians and Senegalese. I consulted Gambian friends, used Mandinka and Wolof in the text, and even had a Mandinka linguist check my spellings. I’ve never been to Gambia, so I didn’t try to describe it deeply,  as a travel writer, I only write in detail about places I’ve experienced myself. That’s why much of Nancy’s time in Gambia is relayed through calls or memory.

The story opens with Tina’s dark inner dialogue. Why start the novel that way?

 I wanted to establish right away that Tina has a fractured sense of self , it’s dramatic, yes, but intentionally so. Without directly saying it, I show her self-loathing. Like with travel writing, I aim to show rather than tell. That line, and that scene, was a visual and emotional cue: this is someone wrestling with her own reflection.

Lola Akinmade Åkerström at the official launch of Bitter Honey, Image:Instagram/@LolaAkinmadeÅkerström

Even though the key details are revealed early in the story, it still keeps readers hooked. How did you approach keeping the momentum going after revealing so much upfront? 

That was intentional,  the challenge was how to sustain engagement when readers already know the “what.” From the first few pages, you know who Lars is, who he's married to, and who his children are. The focus then shifts to the “how” and “why.” How do these characters make the choices they do? What are the emotional consequences? That journey is what keeps the story alive and compelling.

Lars is a deeply unsettling character,  manipulative, entitled, and driven by ego. At one point, you describe him as embodying “colonising love.” Can you unpack what that means and what you were trying to explore through his character?

Lars is someone many of us have encountered, the white expatriate who embeds himself just enough into a culture to feel entitled. He speaks two local languages, which seems impressive, but it’s strategic. It’s about control, not love. I wanted to examine how that power dynamic plays out in personal relationships , someone who believes that by learning your culture, your language, he now owns access to your body, your future, your life.

There’s a  power struggle between Lars, Malik, and Nancy. Can you talk about that dynamic?

Malik was one of my favourite characters, he is confident, grounded, he reminds me of the iconic Black men of the ’70s: afros, swagger, elegance. Lars sees that confidence as a threat. Despite being the most privileged in the room, Lars is insecure when confronted with Malik’s presence. It becomes a dangerous cocktail of envy, racism, and masculine power struggle.

There’s a thread in the book about people never quite receiving the love they deserve. Was that intentional?

It was not intentional, but Tina and Sebastian, do find love, but only after they’ve both grown. Tina couldn’t have loved Sebastian if he remained the insecure man he was. Nancy’s story is different. Life completely derails her. She was destined to be president, but ends up a caregiver. And yet, the question is: can you still find meaning and beauty in a life that doesn’t match your dreams?

Tobias and Lars have a distant, almost wordless father-son connection that still carries deep emotional weight. What was your approach to crafting such a subtle yet powerful dynamic between them?

 I never write from Lars or Tobias’ perspectives, so everything we learn about them comes through others, through Tina or Nancy. And yet, their dynamic is deeply emotional. Tobias remembers Lars as “Mommy’s friend” from the park, and those joyful childhood memories linger. There’s a powerful scene where Tobias is laughing and suddenly breaks down crying, it’s when he realises that man he once loved is also the source of his pain.

Uncle Leif is such a magnetic and deeply compassionate character. What moved you to explore his identity as a gay man living with AIDS during the 1970s,  a time marked by silence, stigma, and fear? What significance did that hold for the broader narrative?

Leif was the only character who came alive on the page without much planning. I wanted to explore solidarity between marginalised communities,  in this case, between a Black African woman and a gay white man. He protects Nancy even against his own brother. AIDS loomed large over that era, especially for gay men, and I wanted to include that history with care. I never name the illness explicitly, instead, I focused on love, on care, and the humanity between two people who find solace in each other.

The scene where Nancy destroys Lars’ paintings is one of the most emotionally charged moments in Bitter Honey. What did that act of destruction represent for you as the writer?

It was a catharsis, Nancy had been objectified, reduced to an image, and that was her moment of reclamation. The paintings weren’t just art; they were visual proof of how Lars tried to possess her. Smashing them was an act of power. That scene is also where Tina meets her half-brothers,  and I wanted to show their humanity too. They hate Nancy not just because of race, but because they watched their mother suffer under Lars. That trauma gets misdirected. It’s all about inheritance,  of pain, of silence, of the right to be angry.

Image: Instagram/@nbmagazine

What do you hope readers take away from Bitter Honey?

 This is, without a doubt, my favourite book,  out of everything I’ve written, both fiction and non-fiction. It’s my third novel, and I poured my heart into it, from the emotional layers to the deep research. What I hope readers take away is, firstly, whatever they need. But if there’s one message I’d love to leave them with, it’s this: when life doesn’t go the way you envisioned, give yourself time,  and when you’re ready, gather the pieces and build something beautiful anyway. More than anything, I want readers to feel completely immersed in the story and live through these characters as deeply as I have.

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