Mind the Blinds follows Elyas, a seventeen-year-old boy living in Nigeria, who struggles with alexithymia and antisocial personality disorder while navigating a life marked by family violence, peer pressure, and dangerous encounters. What begins as a portrait of a boy hardened by neglect and abuse quickly turns into a tense psychological thriller. Elyas gets pulled deeper into violence, secrecy, and survival, while detectives and other students circle closer to the truth. The story balances the harsh realities of growing up in a fractured home with the moral and emotional weight of choices that can never be undone.

I found the writing bold and unflinching. It didn’t shy away from difficult moments, whether it was domestic abuse, corruption, or the chilling matter-of-factness with which Elyas recounts his killings. At times, I felt unsettled, almost claustrophobic, because the story is told in a way that makes you live inside his head. The raw honesty of his voice made me both want to recoil and lean in closer. It’s rare to see a book explore a young narrator with such a cold lens and still leave space for flashes of vulnerability, especially in his care for his younger brother.

Long descriptions of school life, conversations, and side characters slowed down the story as the tension was building. Still, those slower parts gave the book a certain rhythm, like a calm before the storm, and when the violence returned, it felt even more jarring. The contrast worked.

By the time I closed the book, I felt both rattled and impressed. It’s not a story that leaves you with peace of mind, but that’s the point. Mind the Blinds is best for readers who like dark psychological fiction, stories that question morality, and books that sit with you long after you’re done. If you’re willing to be disturbed, challenged, and even a little haunted, it’s well worth the read.

Pages: 264 | ASIN : B0DK6MVGG7