“Where have all the years gone, and have I made the most of life? But what is the final measure for making the most of life, and how would I know if I have?”
—Chimamanda Adichie, Chuka.
I read Zikora for the first time in 2020, the year it was published. I was filled with glee at the prospect of reading another fictional story by Chimamanda Adichie. Reading Zikora felt like receiving small chops at an owambe — a delightful sample, but not quite enough to satisfy my anticipation for a full meal. When the news broke last year that Zikora was an excerpt from an upcoming novel, I was over the moon. Finally, the main dish was coming.
Dream Count. The title intrigued me from the moment the cover was revealed, and I had countless questions. It had been at least a decade since Chimamanda last published a full novel, so I wondered what she had up her sleeve. Annoyed that I had to wait three more months for answers, I reflected on Zikora once again. I thought hard about what stood out. I recalled that it was about a young woman abandoned by her lover after an unexpected pregnancy. They had been unmarried, and it deeply grieved me that he left her to face the family backlash alone. There were no grand twists, yet the well-paced storytelling placed any woman in a reflective, sober state. Zikora was a mirror of life, a reflection of society, as literature ought to be.
With Dream Count less than two weeks away from its March 4 release date, the wait is almost over. In a bid to whet appetites, Chimamanda has to been busy granting interviews and publishing essays and short stories to build excitement. So far, three short pieces have been released. And no matter how eager you are for the main course, you don’t turn down small chops, right?
The first article, published in The New Yorker, attracted the most buzz. It was an interview between Chimamanda and an enthusiastic young reporter. Though I found the reasons for its viral attention somewhat superficial—as Chimamanda rightly noted, “Nigerians are quite nosy”—I welcomed the publicity. It was in this interview that she explained the meaning of Dream Count and why she chose the title. Apparently, in a conversation with a friend about body counts, she coined the phrase Dream Count to represent missed chances, lost opportunities, and forgotten dreams. Dream Count wasn’t just going to be a compilation of stories revolving around Nigerian women; it would also serve as a beckoning, a new lens through which to view culture and society.
The second article, published in Vogue, was an intimate essay about Adichie’s first love. She vividly recounted how they met, the intensity of her emotions, and the bittersweet end of their relationship. Reading it brought back nostalgic memories of those flimsy yet all-consuming secondary school romances. At the end of the narrative, Chimamanda revealed more about Dream Count. The death of her first love left her with a deep sense of brokenness, not just because of the loss itself but also because of what could have been. It was a daunting realization—the finality of death. She shared that Dream Count would be filled with moments like this: themes of passion, loss, and the empty feeling that comes when we recognize that some dreams will always remain out of reach.
The short story Chuka, published in The New Yorker, is another must-read for anyone who loves Chimamanda’s work. Her attention to detail, the relatability of her characters, and the authenticity of their experiences will leave you craving more. The protagonist, Chiamaka, reflects on her life choices, her family’s expectations, and all the chances she may have missed in pursuit of true love. She recalls her relationship with Chuka—from their mundane first meeting to their abrupt, yet unsurprising, goodbye. Chuka isn’t just a PR stunt; it is a glimpse into what is to come.
Adichie assures us that in the full novel, we will meet more women like Chiamaka—women navigating life, reflecting on past choices, and wondering if they will ever find what they truly desire. Like Chiamaka, they will face challenges and societal criticism. Their stories will stir mixed emotions, leaving readers pondering alternative outcomes and what could have been done differently.
Everyone is a fan of Chimamanda Adichie, right? If so, then it’s safe to say the world eagerly awaits Dream Count. From the interviews and excerpts, we can infer that this novel is a thought-provoking countdown of the dreams that have slipped past African women. Like much of Chimamanda’s work, it will urge readers to take control of their narratives and pursue their dreams despite societal pressures. Dream Count promises to move and inspire, pushing us to seize life by the horns.
Dream Count arrives on bookshelves worldwide starting March 4. In Nigeria? Place your orders HERE.
Oreoluwa Odusote
Writer, poet, and dreamer.
