We Are ALSO HOME

Kindle eBook pre-orders are now available for 27-year-old writer Mustafa Abubaker‘s 3rd novel We Are Also Home, a magically realistic 444-page story set in Karachi, Pakistan, and Atlanta, Georgia.

The Kindle eBook is out next Tuesday, December 15th, 2020, but you can pre-order it now at this link for only $3.50.

The print paperback is out now, and you can order it now at this link for only $11.99.

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Design by Luis Pineda

A magnetic novel about two people intertwined by their single parents to each other who find love but not without mystery, poor boy Taimur Mahdi and rich girl Yara Janmohamed ditch modern Karachi for Atlanta to chase Yara’s dream of becoming a successful recording artist. Success arrives quicker for her than she could have ever imagined, and she has to confront her literal, random invisibility in front of Taimur once and for all. But not before a riveting, passionate affair between Taimur’s mother, Farishtay, and Yara’s father, Syed, goes wrong due to a drug overdose. Should Taimur and Yara have ever met? What really happened between his mom and her dad? Was Pakistan better for them as a home in the long run? Is Yara safe with Taimur? Suspenseful and provocative, Mustafa Abubaker’s third novelis keenly attuned to the complexities of family, visibility, and love. We Are Also Home explores the fragility of visibility South Asian women grapple with daily and how our closest bonds are reshaped–and unexpected new ones are forged–in moments of vulnerability.

Born July 25, 1993, in Queens, New York, Mustafa Abubaker is a writer. His writing has appeared in Rolling StoneGolf MediaAtlanta, and more.

www.mustafaabubaker.com is live: there’s a homepagean about sectiona services sectiona work sectiona press section, and a contact section. Let’s work!

Live: HMTA Presents

hmtaux

9:30 PM

A crowd of 23 is having their own moment of a Jordan year when the clock strikes midnight. Stuck In My Ways by BYV plays during soundcheck, followed by a remix of the Tame Impala instrumental to The Less I Know The Better. Keenon Rush, Wiley from Atlanta, and Trvy are here.

10:40 PM

Keenon Rush is about to take the stage. Wanted You just mixed into Walk It Talk It.

11:00 PM

Keenonman’s in the building performing unreleased music. Shortly after a vehement performance of Headlock, he thanks the audience for their energy. The next song finds him sending PSAs to his haters, a thumping anthem accented with what sound like Patois ad-libs. “She say I’m the best / Who am I?” is perhaps Keenonman’s most introspective lyric, something sincerely endearing given the circumstance. New Freezer drops for the chorus and he daps his DJ up. The next song paints the artist in a determined light, ending in Keenon rapping acapella.

12:20 AM

Afropluto drops bars lamenting the dismissal of lyricism in hip-hop today. He seems to have quarrels with the listeners who “don’t care what they saying but the beat hard”. That alone accents his performance through a raspy voice and multiple syllables packed into bars. “Go ahead and pop that pussy like it’s 1999” might be the most telling lyric of Afropluto from tonight’s show, a reference to the year the artist lost his virginity? Pure speculation here. The crowd roars into the midnight hour. He thanks the fans. He says shout out to this young king in front of him, King Blanco, and shows him love. “I come up here and I vent, this is how I make money,” are his remarks prior to performing Do Battle.

1:00 AM

Wiley from Atlanta is all about gratitude. He’s probably thanked the crowd about ten times tonight. His soulful voice carries the weight of his poignant lyrics no where else than the heart, a candid tone that evokes some emotion. A beautiful song was performed just prior to Pressure, an indicator into Wiley’s stage presence: a calculated but consistent product in terms of output and quality control. He thanks the crowd three times after Pressure. “I don’t know if ya’ll fuck with Kehlani,” he says before launching into a remix of “Boys Don’t Cry. To follow is the indelible Nights off Frank Ocean’s Blonde, to which the crowd sways. Wiley lets the first half run. This last song is called Don’t Talk To Me About Love. He launches straight into the verse, saving the phrase I’m not the same I was before for a falsetto’d out bar within the chorus. When he launches into the refrain, the song makes sense. Berlin by the deceased artist and Wiley’s friend Jarrod Milton plays to close out the set.