Sulaiman Addonia | 'I think I have a few books in me. I love telling stories'

I meet Sulaiman Addonia in the appropriately named Candid Cafe; behind London’s Angel station, where he wrote much of his revelatory and moving first novel. Set in the late 1990s, The Consequences of Love (Chatto & Windus, July, ¬£12.99) tells the story of Naser, a young Eritrean exiled to Jeddah where he scrapes a living from the few jobs open to foreigners.

Under Saudi Arabia’s strict Wahhabism, relationships between unmarried men and women are illegal, so when a veiled woman drops a love note at his feet Naser’s life is transformed. The note is a symbol of hope and also a dangerous gamble‚if discovered by the religious police, the consequences will be appalling.

The author’s own life story is extraordinary; Addonia was born in Eritrea to an Eritrean mother and an Ethiopian father but, owing to the civil war, spent his early life in a refugee camp in Sudan. In his early teens he followed his mother to Jeddah, where he lived and studied. He then made the journey to London with his brother, where they claimed asylum.

He went on to win a degree place at University College London and to become a freelance writer.

Addonia is quick to point out that, while drawing on his experiences, the book is not autobiographical. "Obviously my journey is similar to the one Naser takes in the book, but as far as similarities go it ends there," he says. "It’s a real world, but within that world I am imagining the possibilities."

The pivotal moment in the novel is the first contact by the woman, who calls herself "Fiore". "The dropping of notes actually happens and was quite a big phenomenon when I was living in Saudi Arabia. The idea of a woman dropping a note for someone that she likes implies she’s not passive and she’s prepared to take a huge risk. I found it inspiring and wanted to take it further to see where the note might lead."

The novel is a fascinating glimpse into a closed society, and there are some surprising insights into life in Saudi Arabia, for young men at least, despite the all-pervading presence of the religious police. "I hope the book shows that it’s not a world of black and white," he says. I’m intrigued by young people and their struggle to define their own identity. For me it’s very exciting to write about strong individuals, strong in the sense that they try their hardest to pursue love, regardless of the consequences."

There is a lyricism to his writing, which Addonia attributes partly to his upbringing ("when I was younger I used to love being told stories by my grandmother") and also to being an exile, which "makes you very creative with words. Absence breeds a certain element of creativity . . . it makes you poetic, I think."

The first draft was written in just six or seven weeks‚"It was a night and day thing, a sprint to the finish". This is especially impressive given that when he first arrived in the UK he didn’t speak a word of English.

"A few years after I started learning the language, I wrote a little bit about my own experience and the teacher said: ’I think you could be a writer.’ It stayed with me, and later, another teacher said the same thing. But writing was something I thought to do much later, after I graduated." And the future? "Definitely there are more books to come. I don’t know how many, but I think I have a few books in me. I love telling stories."