Time Travel, True Love, and Teleporters: Why Jennifer Hashmi’s Sonny Gogo and Tobo: An Epilogue Is the Fantasy Adventure You Never Knew You Needed

· 3 min read

A quietly extraordinary book from a writer who has spent decades crafting worlds that feel more honest than the one we live in.


There is a particular kind of book that sneaks up on a reader. It does not arrive with grand fanfare or a marketing campaign that promises to change lives. It simply shows up, unpacks its bags, and by chapter three, the reader realizes they are completely, helplessly invested. Jennifer Hashmi’s The Adventures of Sonny Gogo and Tobo: An Epilogue is exactly that kind of book.

The novel is the concluding chapter of a long-running series that Hashmi, born in Bradford in 1938 and shaped by four decades in Delhi, India, has built over multiple volumes. For newcomers, do not let the word “epilogue” mislead. This book stands on its own as a rich, layered fantasy adventure that does not require a reader to have visited the archipelago before.

“Here in the Islands, there was no money. The Kings monitored this process so that a fair exchange was seen to be done.”

The story follows Sonny, a young man from Earth now living permanently in the magical island kingdom of Pongoland as its Prince Regent. He has chosen this life over the one he was born into — a world he describes as one where wealth led to “boredom and vice,” where political imbalance bred violence and despair. It is a pointed observation from an author who spent most of her adult life navigating two very different civilizations, and it lands with the weight of lived experience rather than borrowed wisdom.

A World Built on Barter, Not Money

One of the most quietly radical ideas Hashmi embeds in this series is an economic one. The Archipelago operates entirely on barter. Families trade produce, craft, and skill. Kings ensure fairness. No one goes hungry, but no one hoards either. For readers exhausted by headlines about wealth gaps and cost-of-living crises, this fictional society feels less like escapism and more like a thought experiment dressed in the trappings of adventure. It is the kind of worldbuilding that lingers after the book is closed.

The Teleporter Nobody Expected

The adventure truly ignites when Sonny and his childhood friend Gogo discover two young visitors from the neighboring island of Maridoland searching the Palace cellars. Tania and her younger brother Tenby are hunting for an iron ring, a portal, described to them by an elderly hermit named Gareth, that supposedly connects their islands across empty space. What follows is a sequence of events that pulls all five characters back approximately 150 years into a version of Maridoland they do not recognize, into a mystery involving stolen land deeds, a murdered lord, and a castle that burned to the ground.

The time-travel mechanics here are not the hard-science variety. Hashmi is not concerned with paradoxes or grandfather problems. Her approach is moral and spiritual. The characters are sent back because something needs fixing. They carry no weapons and make no grand speeches. They open a safe with a borrowed blacksmith’s chisel, take the documents inside to the village, and let the truth do the rest. There is something genuinely moving about how small the heroism is.

The Love Story Roman Almost Ruined

Alongside the time-travel plot, Hashmi builds a genuinely charming romance between Sonny and Tania. What makes it work is that Tania is not a passive prize. She pushes back, she thinks independently, and she chooses the adventure over the safe match her father has arranged. When Roman — her father — refuses Sonny’s request to marry her on the grounds of bloodline and pedigree, the scene crackles with a kind of social satire that feels uncomfortably familiar. The obsession with lineage over character is a very human failing, and Hashmi handles it with dry affection rather than contempt.

The resolution, aided by the formidable Mother Fulati, the island’s wise woman, healer, and the emotional compass of the entire series, arrives not through confrontation but through patience, reputation, and the slow accumulation of evidence that Sonny is simply the right person. It is the kind of ending that earns its joy.

Why This Book Deserves a Wider Audience

Hashmi writes the way someone talks when they have seen enough of life to stop performing wisdom and simply share it. The Islands she builds are not utopias. Jealousy festers in Madrico, who cannot accept his son has the gift he always wanted. Bureaucratic small-mindedness shows up in Roman, who cannot see past family trees. The King carries grief. Mother Fulati carries loneliness. These are human textures in a fantasy setting, making the world feel inhabited rather than illustrated.

For readers who enjoy fantasy that asks moral questions rather than just staging battles, or who are tired of stories where the stakes are always apocalyptic, Hashmi’s archipelago offers something rarer: a world where justice is small, personal, and worth fighting for. The Adventures of Sonny Gogo and Tobo: An Epilogue is a quiet book with a surprisingly long reach.

About the Author Jennifer Hashmi was born in Bradford in 1938. She trained as a speech therapist, completed a theology course in Birmingham, and spent 41 years living and working in Delhi, India. She is the author of more than a dozen works, including fiction, poetry, and a translation of Le Grand Meaulnes.