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Womb City coverThe pursuit of justice over racism, sexism, and unethical technology has persisted into the year 2024. Indeed, the recent influx of artificial intelligence has sparked renewed conversation and debate on the future of artistic human expression and spirit. Womb City arrives perfectly in this moment of speculation, since it touches on all of these conflicts while telling a masterful story of science-fiction splendor and horror.

This is the debut novel of Motswana writer Tlotlo Tsamaase. Tsamaase has previously published several short stories in magazines such as Clarkesworld and Apex, and xer 2021 novella The Silence of the Wilting Skin was a finalist for the Nommo Award and Lambda Literary Award. Tsamaase’s writing mainly works with identity, bodily autonomy, romantic and familial relationships, Afrofuturism, and even criminology set against a limitless science-fictional imagination. Womb City is a grand crescendo of all of these themes, placed in a futuristic world that feels not only lived in, but haunted. While the story takes place on the planet Earth that we know, characters and conflicts take the forms of ghosts, gods, family men, crime lords, and even an all-knowing AI. Normally, I would be cautious of a novel that blends so many genres, as it might run the risk of becoming too bloated with its own ideas, lacking synergy between them. However, Tsamaase weaves each chapter with such thoughtful intention and well-planned plotting that no idea feels underused, and no outcome feels too unbelievable. With chapter titles like “God, I’m So High,” and “A Terrible Mother, a Slut, and a Murderer,” the novel also presents itself in an approachable and conversational style for those unfamiliar with science fiction.

The story takes place in Botswana at an undisclosed point in the future. Our only conception of chronology is that we are in a vastly advanced future where technology has been integrated into our lives more intimately than we ever could have imagined. Most alarmingly, humans are able to upload their consciousnesses into other people’s “evacuated” bodies, achieving immortality through continuous transferals over several lifetimes. With such great advancement in human technology and culture comes great regulation, which is the primary instigator of the book’s plot.

The novel begins with a description of Nelah, the protagonist, getting her daily memories scanned for criminal infractions. The previous owner of Nelah’s current body had a criminal record, and for the safety of everyone her consciousness must be deemed clean of any latent impulses to commit more crimes. Nelah reflects, “We’re not only losing the power of our bodies, we’re losing the privacy of our minds” (p. 7). Crime that lacks justice is terribly important to the story. The wellbeing of Botswana’s society hinges on the Murder Trials, a mysterious panopticon-like system with deep connections to the deity Matsieng. Female bodies are more likely to be detected as offenders. But Nelah’s awareness of these flaws in the system can’t stop her from being herded into the position she’s in as both a victim and an occasional accomplice to the system.

Nelah is a forceful protagonist, for better or for worse. Her motivations are very human, but her actions are not always pure, corrupted by this futuristic culture that has changed the value of human bodies through their commercial transaction. As a majority of the book is written from her perspective, readers have an intimate understanding of her heart’s true good intentions, but also have a nail-biting front seat to her more disastrous decisions. Sometimes Nelah can even be an unreliable narrator. Many scenes in Womb City take place in simulations designed to test her, which leads to moments in which she is as uncertain of her reality as the reader might be. These scenes build off of concepts like simulated worlds, as made popular in movies like The Matrix (1999) and Inception (2010), giving the book a very cinematic quality—while still exploring these concepts in words with more precision than films often manage.

Certainly the first fourth of the book might even be a bit slow, as we engage with a lot of worldbuilding, but the descriptions of this world are cutting-edge. Tsamaase has created a futuristic world that is exciting to explore: the social and economic system presented in Womb City, for example, is a natural progression of capitalism and technology into the human body itself, with the characters’ very corporeality acting as currency. Bodies are valued at the intersection of race, nationality, gender, sexuality, and ability—and only the wealthy have access to bodies deemed to be of higher value.

In this way, Womb City presents an irresistible new type of body horror that treats humanity like a commodity. While other books might present their worldbuilding as didactic and even skippable, the world of Womb City encourages you to learn about this potential future, and each line is taut with intention that reflects the overlying themes of the story.

To manage the high demand for bodies, the Body Hope Facility finds ways to augment “improper” and malfunctioning bodies with bionic technologies to upgrade them to proper condition. Disability rights organizations find that the real issues can’t be fixed by tampering with our biology and replacing it with mechanical limbs. The world should be augmented to make it easier for us to assimilate rather than manipulating us to fit into it. (pp. 47-48)

Lines like this make clear references to justice issues that are present in our current society. But Tsamaase removes them from their contemporary context and grafts them onto the world of the book to effective results.

Nelah desperately wants to be accepted as part of a family, but her “family” really belong to the previous conscious owner of her body. The experience of bonding with her new family is deeply uncomfortable for her, even as she tries to insert herself into their lives. Similarly, Nelah dreams of having a child, but because she has miscarried multiple times before, she and her husband resort to having an embryo grown in an AI-monitored “Wombcubator.” Nelah is indecisive about whether or not she wants to stay with her husband, who loves abusing his power to appease both his ego and physical desires, but instead of leaving him she cheats on him with another man.

Nelah’s most divisive moment is when she hits a young woman with her car while driving intoxicated with her second man. She makes the cruel decision to bury the victim alive rather than face justice. Her victim pleads with Nelah not to leave her to die, even as Nelah is throwing the dirt over her still-bleeding body. Nelah is encouraged to do so by her boyfriend and finds a way to convince herself to commit this heinous act, even if she knows it is wrong. After all, Nelah has so much to lose in her life and this system would not forgive her for the infraction, risking obliterating her consciousness forever. Nelah’s guilt is palpable and compelling, as she tries to convince herself that she is not to blame. “It’s her fault. What was she doing there in the middle of the night?” she tells herself, despite the reader’s better knowledge that Nelah herself knew her actions were wrong (p. 145). Tsamaase takes a risk in her story by writing a character that commits such an objectionable, evil deed. While it makes Nelah less likeable in the moment, however, the episode does not detract from the story, and ensures the stakes are higher and the characters’ motives yet more deliciously twisted.

Nelah’s risky behavior is the inciting incident of the book, and the rest consists of a ferociously fast-paced chase, as the SF setting becomes intertwined with ghostly hauntings: the woman Nelah killed rises from the dead as a powerful being—and seeks vengeance for her death. Tsamaase’s tireless creativity as a storyteller means that even at this point, there is still much to be discovered. Entire chapters are written in second person; there are moments that push the boundaries of the SF genre in directions in which it desperately needs to go. For example, the reveal of a character’s hidden identity takes place in a simulated “VR docu-drama” that the other characters must watch. While the shape of media is still changing in our world, Tsamaase finds ways to reinvent prose to transport readers into new landscapes within the book itself. This experimental narrative style feels like a natural point of growth for the science fiction genre that I am sure will become mainstream, as our own understanding of reality and entertainment continues to change.

In addition to being a revelation as SF, Womb City has also been lauded as a truly feminist novel, as it sets its protagonist against male capitalist hegemony for the benefit of everyone. This includes individuals of all genders, not just cis women. Indeed, Nelah herself expresses interest in gender expression beyond the feminine and allies herself with male victims of the system. Racism and sexism are given more honest portrayals than I have seen in many other genre books, as Womb City properly shows how inequality is propagated by long-standing systems, rather than just a network of a few corrupt individuals. The Botswana setting, too, is central to the novel’s message and success. Matsieng, the name of a deity and a location in Womb City, is also a real historical site in Botswana that contains over a hundred petroglyphs that are thousands of years old. It is believed to be the birthplace of humankind. Futuristic technology, the ancient unknowable origins of humanity, and the protagonist’s righteous purpose all come together in a satisfying ending.

Arriving at a time when we are in need of narratives that gracefully discuss real social issues and reinvent what “AI” means, Womb City is a narrative that entices the imagination with delicious science fiction concepts while reflecting the greatest evils in our society. Expertly toeing the line between didacticism and commentary, Tsamaase’s is a narratively innovative novel that sets a new standard for the genre. It paints a future vision of present systems of oppression while still operating as a novel that entertains with sharp character voice and thoughtful prose. Womb City prompts us to reflect not only on humanity’s role in future technology, but also on how our present society already performs.



Sinclair Adams (they/she) has an MFA in Creative Writing from Chapman University. Their short fiction has been published in The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Warning Lines Literary, OFIC Magazine, Across the Margins, and more. They are a frequent contributor of book reviews to The Soapberry Review.
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