The Lion Women of Tehran by Marjan Kamali: Five-Stars. That historical novel Broke My Heart and Opened My Eyes

A love letter to Iranian women, their courage, and their long fight for freedom.

Synopsis

An “evocative read and a powerful portrait of friendship, feminism, and political activism” (People) set against three transformative decades in Tehran, Iran—from nationally bestselling author Marjan Kamali.

In 1950s Tehran, seven-year-old Ellie lives in grand comfort until the untimely death of her father, forcing Ellie and her mother to move to a tiny home downtown. Lonely and bearing the brunt of her mother’s endless grievances, Ellie dreams for a friend to alleviate her isolation.

Luckily, on the first day of school, she meets Homa, a kind girl with a brave and irrepressible spirit. Together, the two girls play games, learn to cook in the stone kitchen of Homa’s warm home, wander through the colorful stalls of the Grand Bazaar, and share their ambitions of becoming “lion women.”

But their happiness is disrupted when Ellie and her mother are afforded the opportunity to return to their previous bourgeois life. Now a popular student at the best girls’ high school in Iran, Ellie’s memories of Homa begin to fade. Years later, however, her sudden reappearance in Ellie’s privileged world alters the course of both of their lives.

Together, the two young women come of age and pursue their own goals for meaningful futures. But as the political turmoil in Iran builds to a breaking point, one earth-shattering betrayal will have enormous consequences.

“Reminiscent of The Kite Runner and My Brilliant Friend, The Lion Women of Tehran is a mesmerizing tale” (BookPage) of love and courage, and a sweeping exploration of how profoundly we are shaped by those we meet when we are young.

Audiobook Review

“While to our eyes, waves appear suddenly on the shore, their abruptness is an illusion. Waves begin their journey thousands of miles out at sea. They accumulate shape and power from winds and undersea currents for ages. And so, when you see the women in Iran screaming for their rights, please remember that the force and fury of our screams have been gathering power for years.”

⭐ 6 brilliant stars

My 2026 is starting on a high note. After Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter — harsh, brutal, and brilliant — The Lion Women of Tehran is my second unforgettable five-star read.

I love when a book hits me hard in the feelings, feels deeply personal and intimate, and makes me revisit historical events through a more human, emotional lens. That is exactly what this novel did to me.

This story swept me off my feet and plunged me into the beautiful, enduring friendship of Ellie and Homa, crossing class differences while bearing witness to Iran’s growing political chaos. It spans decades, beginning when Ellie and Homa are seven years old, at a time when Ellie is forced to move from her family’s mansion to a small apartment in a poor neighborhood of Tehran. What could have been a tragedy becomes a formative and joyful period of her life — thanks to Homa.

Homa is a force of nature: vibrant, fearless, brimming with dreams. She pulls Ellie into her world — hopscotch games, home-cooked meals made by her kind mother, and the certainty that they will one day become Shir zan — lion women.

“Lionesses. Us. Can’t you just see it Ellie? Someday, you and me — we’ll do great things. We’ll live life for ourselves. And we will help others. We are cubs now, maybe. But we will grow to be lionesses. Strong women who will make things happen.”

Years later, Ellie is uprooted once again and loses touch with Homa. But this is not the end of their story. Fate brings Homa back into Ellie’s life — just as brilliant, just as alive. Their friendship is rekindled as they attend university, until one fateful betrayal tears them apart once more, with consequences that will echo through their lives.

Marjan Kamali achieves something remarkable: she writes a story that is both sweeping and deeply intimate. Through childhood emotions, lovingly described Persian meals, the scent of Tehran, and cultural customs — like the ritual of deprecating what you offer while the other politely refuses — I felt as though I was walking the streets of Tehran in the 1950s, then the 60s, and beyond.

I loved learning about Persian culture, family life, rituals, and especially what Iranian women have contributed to the world.

“Doesn’t matter who owns the rug workshops,” Homa went on. “It’s the women who do the knotting. It’s women doing the weaving. The art of Iranian women is scattered throughout the world. Their work is everywhere.”

At the same time, the novel does not shy away from history’s brutality. Kamali depicts the slow erosion of women’s rights, the unrest, the revolutions — the fall of the Shah, the war with Iraq, and the rise of fundamentalism.

“That’s how losses of rights build. They start small. And then soon, the rights are stripped in droves.”
“Freedom has no musts.”

Both Ellie and Homa are inspiring, but Homa is extraordinary. Her strength, clarity, and unwavering commitment to justice make her a true Shir zan. If someone ever asks me for an example of a strong female character, I will give them Homa’s name.

I cannot end this review without mentioning Marjan Kamali’s writing. Her prose is poetic, fluid, and beautiful. Listening to the audiobook, I wanted to underline and annotate constantly — I’m grateful Goodreads has a quote section.

This is an intimate and epic historical fiction I will not forget. Comparisons to The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns are well deserved, and I would also add As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow. This book will undoubtedly appear in my “Top Reads of 2026.”

I’ll leave you with one last quote — one that still embodies the spirit of Iranian women today:

“Let them beat me with their batons, let them bruise my body to a pulp, let them shoot and kill me. For a lifetime we have fought. We have fought and fought and fought. We want to be free. We want to be equal. We want to be able to live our lives.”

Thank you, Marjan Kamali, for writing this story.

Sophie