THE PLOT: Smallie by Eden McKenzie-Goddard is a historical novel about the Windrush scandal. In 1961, Lucinda leaves Barbados for England in search of her baby’s father. She finds work as a cleaner but although she can legally migrate as a citizen of the British Empire, racism is leading the country to rise the drawbridge to its former colonies. Nearly fifty years later, Lucinda receives a threatening letter from the Home Office that threatens to deport her. Her children rally together to prove her legal arrival but the Government destroyed all of the colonial landing cards in 2010 so no records remain. To fight her case, they must track down a man who Lucinda met on the ship to Southampton in 1961. A man she tried to forget who now holds the key to her family’s future.

SUMMARY: Smallie is inspired by the true events of the Windrush scandal, in which legal British citizens from the Caribbean were wrongfully detained and deported in 2017. Many of those affected had arrived in Britain in the 1960s, built lives and families here, and were later denied their basic rights. This novel is a moving testament to those who suffered this profound injustice.

I expected a sweeping, plot-driven historical novel, but instead found a quiet, literary work whose strength lies in its subtle and descriptive style. While there were aspects of the characterisation and emotional connection I wanted to explore in greater depth, these are relatively minor criticisms of an otherwise thoughtful and beautifully crafted novel.

More importantly, this is an essential work of historical fiction that educates readers about the Windrush generation and the ongoing consequences of Britain’s colonial legacy. Although I considered myself reasonably familiar with the Windrush scandal, I had naively assumed that the government had taken accountability for the destruction of the landing cards and it prevented them from deporting those affected. The novel illustrates that the reality was far more complicated, demonstrating how institutions can avoid accountability, particularly within today’s climate of anti-immigration rhetoric. It serves as an important reminder of how colonial subjects who were invited to Britain have continued to face racism despite their immense contributions to the country and empire.

An impressive debut with a brilliant central concept that is executed with considerable skill, Smallie provides an important reminder that the injustices of the hostile environment are not simply history but continue to shape lives today. I’m excited to see what Eden McKenzie Goddard writes next.

GOOD BITS: The novel’s literary style was one of its greatest strengths. The descriptive prose, with no speech marks and rhythmic dialogue, created an immersive reading experience that suited the reflective tone of the story.

The dual timeline is particularly effective, alternating between Lucinda’s migration to England in the 1960s and her son Patrick’s desperate attempt to prevent her deportation in 2017. Both perspectives were compelling, but I found myself especially invested in Patrick. His struggles with alcoholism, his fractured relationships with his siblings, and his attempts to reconnect with his own son gave his storyline greater emotional complexity.

Lucinda’s relationship with her father and nanny in Barbados provided thoughtful insight into her upbringing and motivations. I also thought the inclusion of one of Lucinda’s sons as an MP was a particularly clever narrative choice. It raises uncomfortable questions about Black and Brown politicians who have supported hostile immigration policies, asking what happens when those policies affect your own family. Indeed, the author asks the question that so many of us in the diaspora have – how can you betray your own people by enacting these racist policies? Although I wanted this character to be a little more nuanced (giving him a few redeeming qualities would have made his political position even more compelling, rather than risking him feeling like a straightforward antagonist), it reminded me of the British Pakistani Home Secretary in Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie.

NOT SO GOOD BITS: The main reason this wasn’t a five-star read for me was my emotional distance from Lucinda. While many significant events occur in her storyline, I never felt fully connected to her inner life. I kept expecting more exploration of her son Reggie, who seemed to disappear from the narrative despite being presented as an important motivation for her. This left parts of her emotional journey feeling underdeveloped.

Similarly, I found the discussion of Lucinda’s colourism and her white-passing identity intriguing but under-explored. These aspects of her character had the potential to shape her worldview in fascinating ways, yet the novel never fully interrogates them. I generally appreciate the messiness of allowing a sympathetic protagonist to hold prejudiced views, because those contradictions make characters feel real. However, I wanted the novel to push this complexity even further. It reminded me of Hortense in Small Island, whose snobbery initially makes her unlikeable but ultimately deepens her character as she grows throughout the novel.

OVERALL: I’d recommend this book to fans of Small Island by Andrea Levy, Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon and This Lovely City by Louise Hare. You can purchase this book (with a discount) and support @aminasbookshelf via my bookshop.org. affiliate link.