Khaya Ronkainen

Celebrating its 25th anniversary, the Helsinki Book Fair embraced “knowledge and joy” as the core theme described by organisers as “what the best literature gives us: the power of civilization and the joy of reading.” The fair was alive with the unmistakable energy of people brought together by the love of literature.

Book fairs’ true allure is in creating literary relationships, far beyond just the sale of books. It’s writers and readers, stories and communities, and all literary stewards in their multifaceted roles, sharing space.

Preparation and Literary Citizenship

All this takes a lot of preparation, and I can only speak for myself. Beyond the visible work — organising books, curating visuals, packing essentials, rehearsing for talks — there’s another kind of preparation that matters just as much: preparing one’s mindset.

As we know, writing is often a solitary act, but events like these are a reminder that being an author also means stepping into public spaces: meeting readers, engaging in dialogue, and representing not just ourselves but a wider community of writers.

Working together with my fellow authors at our shared exhibition stand was a valuable reminder of that. We took turns volunteering, keeping to our shifts, and promoting one another’s books as enthusiastically as our own.

I’d especially like to give a shout-out to my fellow panellists and our moderator for their superb spirit of collaboration. Great conversations don’t just happen — generous minds and open hearts sharing space together create them.

In the lead-up to our panel, we worked closely behind the scenes to shape a meaningful discussion. Each brought ideas, time, and encouragement with a sense of shared purpose rather than competition. For me, that’s the essence of literary citizenship.

In writing communities where egos can sometimes get in the way, this generosity felt both grounding and encouraging. It was proof that the best literary moments are born not from individual spotlights, but from collective spirit.

Also, literary citizenship (for me) means staying open to new ideas and conversations shaping the world of books. The following are a few topics that stirred more debate this year.

Conversations That Stood Out

Conversations about AI are divisive, and often focus on risk, ethics, and the future of human imagination. In fact, there’s one interesting discussion I missed, loosely translated as “F*** AI – why human translators are needed more than ever.”

But could artificial intelligence also open up new opportunities for writers? I’m not here to convince anyone to use AI — or not to; that’s not my place. Anyway, discussions about literature and AI interested me most.

What struck me most was how AI is beginning to transform even the most established creative fields. And it seems some traditional publishers are catching up with independent presses, who have long viewed AI as a tool to enhance, not replace, what humans can do.

One enlightening discussion was by the UNICEF panel speaking about their collaboration with OpenAI to reinvent textbooks. Their goal is to make learning materials more accessible — not just for children with disabilities, but for all children. Perhaps this shows that innovation driven by empathy and purpose can broaden knowledge and promote inclusivity.

The discussion on AI was just one of many thought-provoking themes that shaped this year’s fair. Talks ranged from our relationship with nature and the climate crisis to global politics. The changing landscape of the Middle East, Palestine and Israel, the ongoing battle for Ukraine, and the UN’s “Protecting the People Behind the Numbers” on migration, were among others.

The President of Finland, whose latest book, Vallan kolmio or The Triangle of Power, explores global power dynamics, drew a large audience. He filled the entire main arena without even being there in person as we listened intently to his streamed interview.

On the Semantics of the Word “Civilization”

Learning of this year’s theme, “… the power of civilization and the joy of reading,” prompted a lively behind-the-scenes debate about the use of the word civilization among my co-panellists and me.

For those of us from formerly colonised nations, the term carries a heavy history. It has long been used to demean, define, and dominate people once labelled as “uncivilised.” Even literature, in its own way, has been complicit in “civilising” the world by silencing other voices. That’s why our first reaction was, what?

Our ever-patient moderator helped reframe the brainstorming session, explaining that civilization translates as “sivistys” in Finnish. This word embodies self-betterment and ethical awareness; that knowledge builds empathy and makes us more humane.

While there were many interpretations of sivistys at the book fair, our own approach was based on asking how Afro-Nordic voices, grounded in connection and community, might help re-imagine a more inclusive form of civilization. Hence, the topic: “Our Stories: The Role of Afro-Nordic Voices in Shaping Civilization”.

Regarding presenting at the book fair, one criticism we heard was “what’s the point?”, referring to the visible absence of African or Black audiences at these events. This concern is valid and part of a broader conversation about representation. But it left me thinking, what’s the point of preaching only to the converted? That is, I’m also interested in engaging those who have the power to open doors that remain closed.

The Heart of It All

Meeting the readers… ♥ At its core, the purpose of a book fair is to bring writers and readers into conversation — to remind us that stories truly come alive when shared. Beyond the exchange of books, it’s the moments of connection that linger: the brief yet meaningful conversations across signing tables, the smiles, and the stories behind each purchase.

I was deeply touched by readers who bought my books not only for themselves but as gifts for their loved ones. As I personalised each dedication, I was privy to beautiful, often moving stories about why they felt my book would be the perfect for a loved one going through a hard time, a partner who loves poetry, or a friend celebrating a milestone.

Each conversation reminded me that a book travels far beyond its pages. It carries emotions, hopes, and memories of those who give and receive it. In those precious exchanges, I realised writers also gain something — the privilege of seeing how our words connect with readers. Face-to-face interaction is unmatched!

New Bonds and Shared Journeys

It’s always inspiring to meet the minds behind the stories. A few authors I connected with left lasting impression. It was not only through their books but through the conversations we shared about process, purpose, and persistence. Each exchange felt less like an introduction and more like the beginning of a shared journey; a connection that will continue beyond the fair’s halls.

Their books, each in its own way, capture the beauty of curiosity and connection that defined this year’s fair, for me.

1. kai alonte — Somewhere Soft to Land
Debut novel coming April 2026 — now available for pre-order! A story about sisterhood and a friendship in peril.

2. Mirva Haltia — Grunga
A trilingual poetry collection that’s both compelling and enlightening — truly a gift. I devoured it!

3. Sanna Vainikainen — Karppi kaupassa – kalarunokirja
A witty poetry collection for kids, celebrating the quirky traits of fish. I bet even adults could learn a thing or two!

4. Mariam Naiem — A Brief History of a Long War: Ukraine’s Fight Against Russian Domination
Coming January 2026 — already available for pre-order! A timely and vital read that I can’t wait to dive into.

See more photos and moments from these encounters on Instagram!

Then The After Party

If the daytime hours were for panels and book signings, the evening belonged to the after party. It was that cheerful blur where writers, editors, and publishers mingle under the warm glow of delightful music and free wine.

The atmosphere, predictably, thrived on a liquid diet: an abundance of drinks, laughter, and stories that flowed more freely than submission pitches. For once, no one was pleading for a manuscript to be read or a contract to be signed. It was just writers enjoying the rare luxury of being off duty, if only for a night.

Final Reflections

As the lights dimmed and the last books were stowed, what lingered most was not just the panels or the pages, but the people — the conversations, the laughter, the shared love of stories that transcend boundaries. If you’re an introvert who’s like me tends to avoid live author events, I challenge you to try them in 2026.

To everyone who came by to say hello, bought a book, or shared a story — thank you.
Your support fuels my writing. Until the next book fair, keep reading, keep connecting, and keep the stories alive!

PS. The Finnish-African Society, an NGO that promotes African literature, among other things, made my participation at the Helsinki Book Fair possible.

PPS: Used photos that are not mine with permission.