Dream Count is not the sweeping saga of Adichie’s acclaimed Americanah or the generational epic of Half of a Yellow Sun. Instead, it’s a finely-wrought, introspective novel that feels both intensely personal and universally resonant. After a decade-long hiatus from fiction, Adichie returns with a book that operates on a smaller, more intimate scale, exploring the inner lives of four interconnected women grappling with love, longing, and identity.
The novel is structured around the perspectives of Chiamaka, a Nigerian travel writer living in the U.S.; Zikora, her best friend and a high-powered lawyer; Omelogor, her brash and successful cousin; and Kadiatou, her Guinean housekeeper. Adichie uses these characters to weave a tapestry of modern womanhood, touching on everything from the subtle misogyny of online dating to the quiet dignity of a mother’s sacrifice. Her prose remains as sharp and incisive as ever, effortlessly shifting between moments of searing emotional honesty and insightful social commentary. The dialogue is authentic, the observations are acute, and the descriptions are so vivid you can almost feel the texture of the characters’ lives.
However, the novel’s greatest strength—its non-linear, character-driven structure—can also be its most challenging aspect. The plot often feels less like a cohesive narrative and more like a series of compelling vignettes. This approach allows for a deep dive into each woman’s psyche, but some readers may find the lack of a traditional, driving plot frustrating. The social commentary, while often brilliant, occasionally veers into the didactic, particularly through the outspoken voice of Omelogor, who critiques American “woke” culture with a fervour that can sometimes feel more like an author’s sermon than a character’s genuine opinion.
Dream Count is a brilliant and necessary novel. It may not satisfy those looking for a grand, cinematic story, but it will richly reward readers who appreciate Adichie’s masterful command of language and her unparalleled ability to dissect the female experience. It is a book about the dreams we count—the loves we’ve lost, the futures we imagine, and the silent reckonings that define who we are. It’s a powerful and welcome return for one of our generation’s most important literary voices.