If what gripped you was Sankofa leaving her home as a child, renaming herself, and crossing Ghana in search of the fallen “seed” that remade her, you’ll love how Binti follows a gifted Himba girl who leaves Earth for an alien university and must redefine who she is after contact transforms her. Like Sankofa’s green glow and deathly aura that turn her into a legend feared and revered, Binti’s encounter with the Meduse marks her body and mind, forcing her to negotiate who she’ll be next—daughter, outsider, or something new.

Sankofa’s glow can fell a room, and again and again she must decide when to spare and when to unleash death—decisions that haunt her as stories about “Death’s adopted daughter” spread. In The Power, girls worldwide awaken an electrical ability that can kill or protect. You’ll recognize the same thrilling, uneasy reckoning with responsibility: as Sankofa weighs the cost of using her gift on bandits or corrupt men who would use her, Alderman’s characters confront how wielding lethal strength reshapes ethics, community, and self.

Much of Remote Control is intimate: just Sankofa on the road, trading stories for a meal, crossing from small towns to big cities while drones hum and rumors grow. If you loved that quiet, close focus—the stops at roadside compounds, the wary hospitality, her private grief—A Psalm for the Wild-Built offers a similarly gentle, contemplative trek. A tea monk meets a robot and wanders through forests and villages, talking purpose and meaning with the same soft attention you enjoyed in Sankofa’s solitary travels.

In Remote Control, the tech—self-driving cars, drones, corporate security—hangs in the background while the real story is people: the families who fear Sankofa, the rich household that tries to use her, the whispers that turn her into myth. The Lesson does the same in the U.S. Virgin Islands: an alien presence settles in, and the focus stays on neighborhoods, grief, and community tensions. If you were hooked by how Sankofa’s legend reshapes everyday lives more than gadgets do, this will resonate.

Sankofa’s power sits beside everyday tech and feels otherworldly—her green glow, the stories it spawns, her long walk toward the unknown “seed.” The Girl in the Road captures that same vibe: a woman sets out across a solar-powered sea road from Africa toward India, where biotech, surveillance, and the very path beneath her feet feel like living myths. If you loved how Sankofa’s world blurs miracle and machine as she moves from village to city, this lyrical journey scratches that itch.