It is three, an hour to four in the evening and just the right time to get myself a cup of tea as I cosy up to a warm throw blanket. I finished reading Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Before you read on, can I ask you a question? My assumption is that you want me to get to the point, and so I will ask you, “what does a book demand from a reader?”

This question has been on my mind having got mixed reviews from fellow readers on this book, and the usual pendulum of thoughts on this- some say it’s amazing, others that it wasn’t all that, some they never finished reading it (the dreaded DNF) and then those who say it’s not like her other works.

And on the last comment, yes- this is nothing like her other works, this is a book that stands on it’s own, the Chimamanda who wrote it is not in the same mental, psychological or physical state she was in while writing Americanah, it’s 2025 for heaven’s sake and on that is where I ask myself, “should an author’s works embody the same kind of feeling, voice, tone across their writing life?” I sincerely hope not, because with this book I was immersed in the lives of four women who were being sculpted by their parents’ expectations, their dreams, their experiences, their desire to love and be loved- to be chosen, put first, applauded…and through all these experiences they were losing bits of themselves, the sense of knowing, a clarity of what it is they seek- and that in itself was like grieving.

In reading this it was interesting how Chiamaka was seen as the whimsical one who built castles in the air and had her parents money to blow, Zikora the lawyer and rational one who always said things as they were, Omelogor the bold and fearless one with a body that men died for and who could literally face the devil and have a drink with him unscathed, and finally Kaditou- the sweet, naive, loving and tender one- who dared to dream and work herself to the bone for the life she desired for her daughter.

One of my favorite lines from the book:

“Binta. Binta was born dreaming, always talking of other places, other worlds, where girls went to school and clean water gushed from taps. She walked in quick steps, as if holding back an enormous hunger to burst free; she did everything fast, she quivered with the restlessness of unhatched dreams.“

Dream Count is not flamboyant. The way I took this book in was that it does not demand the red carpet roll out, because I could see these women everywhere I looked- I could see the questions on marriage, child birth, on finding the right man, keeping the man satisfied, on wanting to travel, to speak, question and explore uncertainties without being pinned down by societies expectations. So, yes…it is vivid, the writing pace varies and there are characters that jump out of the page like Binta, Omelogor…stupid Darnell! Or the never ending meddling Aunties…

I am glad I finally got to read this book and somehow on the whole scheme of labels and the human fascination with ranges, I find this sitting steady somewhere between a 3 and 4 star at a 3.5 star rating. Now forget my rambling and go read the book...