Review of Sweet Heat by Bolu Babalola

Bolu Babalola, a British-Nigerian writer who is making waves with her fresh take on stories about love and life, first caught everyone's eye with her debut Honey and Spice back in 2022. That book was a Reese’s Book Club pick, loved for how it showed Black British life in a lively way. With a law background and a master's from UCL on Beyoncé’s Lemonade, Babalola calls herself a “romcomoisseur,” meaning she knows how to spin tales of strong women who love with all their heart. Her second novel, Sweet Heat, came out in 2025 from Headline, and it is a standalone follow-up to her first, picking up Kiki Banjo and Malakai Korede's story

in modern London. It has got glowing words from writers like Beth O’Leary, who said it is “a classic in the making.”

The book's main idea is that love, when built on real growth and open talk, can heal old hurts and push past society's rules, leading to a fuller life together. It is like a wake-up call to see that being open about feelings is strength, not weakness, and it is a must-read for that honest, funny look at today's relationships. For Indian readers, especially the young lot dealing with family pressures, it is like a friend chatting over chai, telling you to be true to yourself. This novel mixes laughs, romance, and culture in a way that feels both big and close to home, making it perfect for anyone wanting a story that touches the heart.

Sweet Heat jumps in three years after Honey and Spice, getting right into Kiki Banjo's world, now 28 and hosting her podcast The Heart Beat: “Kiki had built a life of control, but it was starting to crack” (Babalola, 2025, p. 7). The story says that second chances at love need facing old pains and growing together, using Kiki and Malakai's bumpy reunion to show it. “Love doesn’t erase the past; it demands you face it” (Babalola, 2025, p. 12) gives the feel from the start for a tale that balances hot romance with real feelings.

Kiki's things are falling apart: her podcast is struggling, and her family's restaurant Sákárà is on the brink: “Sákárà was more than a restaurant; it was home, heritage, everything” (Babalola, 2025, p. 20). Her boyfriend Bakari, a tech guy, is steady but boring: “Bakari was predictable, like a spreadsheet” (Babalola, 2025, p. 35). Then Malakai Korede, her old flame and now a filmmaker on the rise, shows up: “Malakai’s return was like a storm I didn’t see coming” (Babalola, 2025, p. 45). They cross paths at their friends' wedding, where she is maid of honor and he is best man: “We were tied together by this wedding, whether we liked it or not” (Babalola, 2025, p. 60).

The spark between them lights up again: “The air between us crackled, like it always had” (Babalola, 2025, p. 75). But old wounds hurt: “He broke my heart, and I rebuilt it without him” (Babalola, 2025, p. 80). A shared project, a documentary on a musician, makes them team up: “Working with Malakai felt like dancing on a tightrope” (Babalola, 2025, p. 95). Kiki deals with her job woes: “I’d lost my show, my anchor, my voice” (Babalola, 2025, p. 110). Malakai wrestles with worry and loss: “He carried his pain quietly, but I saw it” (Babalola, 2025, p. 125).

Family plays a big role: “My parents’ restaurant was our legacy, but it was slipping away” (Babalola, 2025, p. 140). Her friend Aminah is always there: “Aminah was my rock, always there with tea and truth” (Babalola, 2025, p. 155). The fix is in talking it out: “We had to talk, really talk, to heal what broke” (Babalola, 2025, p. 170). Kiki and Malakai own their faults: “We were both messy, but we were trying” (Babalola, 2025, p. 185). London's vibe, full of Nigerian touches, keeps it real: “London was alive, pulsing with our culture, our food” (Babalola, 2025, p. 200).

They come out stronger: “Love wasn’t the answer; it was the courage to keep going” (Babalola, 2025, p. 215). The pair rebuilds trust: “We chose each other, scars and all” (Babalola, 2025, p. 230). Babalola uses lively talk, cultural nods, and Kiki's quick wit to show love works best with truth, not big shows. The story, backed by reviews like those on Bookpage (2025), proves personal change is the key to lasting ties. “Every step forward is a choice to heal” (Babalola, 2025, p. 245) sums up the hope.

Sweet Heat sparkles with its lively writing and true-to-life feelings, standing out in today's romance books. Babalola's chatty lines pop: “The air between us crackled, like it always had” (Babalola, 2025, p. 75) wants to hear a pal recount a tense meet-up. The book's power is in its take on second chances: “Love doesn’t erase the past; it demands you face it” (Babalola, 2025, p. 12) skips the usual fluff, rooting the romance in real work. The cultural mix, “London was alive, pulsing with our culture, our food” (Babalola, 2025, p. 200), honors Nigerian roots without explaining too much, as Book CLB points out (2025), trusting readers to get it.

Kiki's layers make her real: “I’d lost my show, my anchor, my voice” (Babalola, 2025, p. 110) shows her soft side, easy to relate to. Malakai's battles with his mind, “He carried his pain quietly, but I saw it” (Babalola, 2025, p. 125), adds realness, dodging the “flawless guy” trap. The group of friends, like Aminah, “Aminah was my rock, always there with tea and truth” (Babalola, 2025, p. 155), fills out the world, like the close-knit feel in Still Life. The book's wide reach comes from its big themes of trust and growing up, working for folks everywhere.

Drawbacks include some crowded spots: “My parents’ restaurant was our legacy, but it was slipping away” (Babalola, 2025, p. 140) clashes with wedding bits, as Book CLB mentions (2025). The end, “We chose each other, scars and all” (Babalola, 2025, p. 230), wraps up neatly, unlike the rougher start. It touches on race and culture but misses deeper looks at caste or money woes, key in India. “We were both messy, but we were trying” (Babalola, 2025, p. 185) assumes easy access to creative jobs, which is not always true. Next to The Kiss Quotient, which dives into neurodiversity, Sweet Heat keeps it narrower.

In the end, Sweet Heat is a cozy, funny romance that mixes laughs and heart, great for fans of people-centered love tales. It is not for those wanting quick twists or big social digs, but it shines in feelings and culture.

Why Indian Youth Readers Must Read This Book

For Indian youngsters in the thick of board exams, JEE classes, and family wants, Sweet Heat feels like a mate giving straight talk over chai. The drive for 95% marks or an IIT spot is like Kiki's hunt for outside nods: “I’d lost my show, my anchor, my voice” (Babalola, 2025, p. 110). Rote cramming—swallowing formulas—can feel like Bakari's dull safety: “Bakari was predictable, like a spreadsheet” (Babalola, 2025, p. 35). This book's a wake-up call to put realness first, not society's playbook.

The job chase, with lakhs after top spots, matches Kiki's work slips: “Kiki had built a life of control, but it was starting to crack” (Babalola, 2025, p. 7). For kids from lower castes or far towns, the book's community focus, “Aminah was my rock, always there with tea and truth” (Babalola, 2025, p. 155), paints a picture of picked family outside strict lines. The stress on talking things out, “We had to talk, really talk, to heal what broke” (Babalola, 2025, p. 170), fights “log kya kahenge,” pushing youth to follow writing or films, often pushed aside for engineering.

For girls under more watch to settle down, “Love doesn’t erase the past; it demands you face it” (Babalola, 2025, p. 12) says be honest with feelings, not just fit in. Kiki's path, “He broke my heart, and I rebuilt it without him” (Babalola, 2025, p. 80), echoes those bucking norms for careers. The ground reality is India's schools chase numbers, not self-knowing, leaving kids playing catch-up with their real likes. “Love wasn’t the answer; it was the courage to keep going” (Babalola, 2025, p. 215) sparks sticking it out, like gaining skills via work or online learning.

The cultural buzz, “London was alive, pulsing with our culture, our food” (Babalola, 2025, p. 200), is like Indian get-togethers with food and chat. The fun, “Working with Malakai felt like dancing on a tightrope” (Babalola, 2025, p. 95), links to youth using memes to handle stress. Sweet Heat tells Indian youth to own their soft sides, make real ties, and enjoy their stories, guiding them through a tough world.

Sweet Heat is a lively, touching romance that cheers love, growth, and roots. For Indian youth, it is a look at exam, job, and society strains, pushing for realness. This book is a cozy, funny call to live big, just right for anyone wanting a tale that brings smiles and thoughts.