Perhaps the title of this book is enough indication that it will be a painful story. Shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction, Brotherless Night is not an easy read, but it’s an essential one, that will break your heart many times. Set against the backdrop of the brutal Sri Lankan Civil War between the Tamil and the Sinhalesed-dominated government, the story is a testament to the enduring human spirit in the face of unimaginable loss. 

Sashi is a sixteen-year-old Tamil girl living in Jaffna in 1981. She dreams of becoming a doctor, just like her older brother and her neighbour, K., a neighbour boy one year older, whom she had a crush on ever since the day he helped her when she had accidentally poured boiling water on herself. She is fond of this dark Tamil man with a white smile, one of the men she loved and who belonged to her: her father and four brothers. Her life is simple, but filled with love and laughter, but the random acts of violence between Tamil young men and the government forces soon drown it out.

The small acts of violence (a policeman getting shot which pushed for retaliation with many Tamil young men being beaten or even killed, then other government officials targeted that turn into more violence) affect Sashi and her family’s life, having them live in fear. From her brothers not being allowed to use their bicycles anymore (the police targeted Tamil young men on bicycles) to open violence they barely escaped, for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, the violence culminates with the burning of the Jaffna library, which housed almost a hundred thousand books, some of them irreplaceable. 

Throughout it all, Sashi and her brothers continue studying and trying to move their lives forward, living in the chilling fear of being next. Yet, under the fear, discontent and resentment gather. In 1983, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (Tamil Tigers) took the lead in the revolution (by assassinating other Tamil groups) declaring the independence of the Tamil Eelam state (set in the NE part of the Sri Lankan island). The civil war starts. Affected by the loss of one of their own, some of Sashi’s family and friends join the revolution, with tragic consequences for themselves and everyone around them (cue the book’s title). 

The narrative takes a heart-wrenching turn as we accompany Sashi and her family throughout the war. Lasting for over twenty-six years, the war blurred the lines between good and evil, aggressor and aggressed. Both sides commit abominable acts as well as the Indian peacekeeping force, initially a beacon of hope for the Tamil, which brings the country into another layer of chaos. During this time almost 100,000 Tamil people have died (the numbers are unconfirmed, as the government refused to do an investigation into the full impact of the war). Mass murders, rape, assassinations, cruel acts were committed on all sides.

Brotherless Night is not a story of heroes and villains; it’s a stark portrayal of the human cost of war, which is always innocent lives. The narrative, told in Sashi’s voice, from a future where she is a doctor in New York, feels like a confessional: raw, honest, and brimming with sorrow. At times, she addresses the reader directly and creates an intimacy that is hard to shake. You’re not just reading her story, you’re living it with her, the weight of each loss pressing down on you.  

The most gut-wrenching passages are those detailing the plight of women. The Tamil mother’s movements to free their sons (taken by the government under false pretences and for no reason but to reduce the potential Tamil future forces), their fierce love a stark contrast to the senseless brutality, is a testament to the unwavering strength of the human spirit. Ganeshananthan doesn’t shy away from blaming the violence on men and contrasts it with women’s raw power and strategies. However, the violence against women, from all warring sides, is atrocious and a sickening reminder of the war’s true barbarity. 

Ultimately, Brotherless Night is a haunting story, told in a gentle and powerful voice. It’s a story that demands to be heard, a reminder that the scars of civil war run deep, and the price is always paid by the innocent. This isn’t just a book, it’s a call to remember, to learn, and to strive for a world where such tragedies never repeat. A call we fail at. I hope this book wins the Women’s Prize, but, more importantly, that it finds its way into your hands. Read it, remember it, and share its message.