‘Dream Count’ by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: There are other ways to live

Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie opens with the line: "I have always longed to be known, truly known, by another human being." It’s a strong beginning that invites readers to reflect on a profoundly human longing. It resonated with me. I immediately asked myself, "Is there anyone who truly knows me at my core?" As I write this review, I still don't have an answer.

Dream Count, set against the backdrop of the coronavirus pandemic, follows four middle-aged women. First, there is Chiamaka, a travel writer living in the US, who doubts the quality of her work but dreams of writing a book one day. Then there is Zikora, also based in the US, a practical lawyer whose only dream is to get married and start her own family. Omelogor, Chiama’s cousin in Nigeria, is a successful, no-nonsense banker. Lastly, there is Kadiatou, a Guinean woman living in the US, who works as a cleaner at a hotel and Chiamaka’s housekeeper while raising her daughter, Binta.

Chiamaka is a dreamer. She searches for a love that will make her forget the pain in the world. This hopefulness compels her to endure things that no one should have to—no matter how much she wants to be loved by someone. There should be a limit to how far one should go to feel loved.

As she revisits her past relationships, this becomes evident in her relationship with Darnell, a know-it-all academic who is also a gaslighter and manipulative person. He is not with Chiamaka for love; he is with her for what she can offer him. He is emotionally unavailable and dismisses her needs as "being hormonal."

Chiamaka is aware of what’s happening, but she is too desperate for love to save herself from this emotional torture. She longs to talk to someone, to name the pain she carries: “I wanted to only talk. About being in a relationship but never feeling at home. About being unsure and never made to feel that I could one day feel less so.”

This book is not just about counting dreams or bodies; it’s also about the social conditioning imposed on women. It explores what happens in a woman’s body and the choices that come with it, or the lack of options. It will leave you wondering: Who is responsible for the child when a couple decides to have one?

Take Zikora, for example. As she ages, life has not unfolded as she once dreamed. She hoped to marry by 31, have her first child, and create a happy family. Instead, she sees her friends marry and worries about what others will think of her for still being single.

Zikora’s men — the "time thieves," as she calls them — provide a sharp commentary on how some men perceive women. Some claim to admire strong women but label them as "disrespectful" when they advocate for themselves.

Zikora’s story also explores the complicated relationship between mothers and daughters. Through Zikora, we glimpse how a mother's silence and decisions are rarely without reason. Zikora often misunderstands her mother, but as life unfolds, she realises that mothers are also women navigating their own pain and quiet battles.

When Zikora wonders what she would do without her, her mother replies, “I’m not going anywhere yet.”

Kadiatou embodies the struggles many women face when they experience sexual assault by powerful men, particularly those from her social class. Women who live in survival mode. Women who desire nothing but the best for their children.

What happened to Kadiatou — from the media coverage to her own family's response — was painful and undignified for both her and her daughter, Binta.

"How could they call her a prostitute? Thank God her father had died. Thank God he was long dead, to save him the shame of seeing her called a prostitute in front of the whole world."

There is also social conditioning that tells women that no matter how successful they are, if they are not married or mothers, their success means nothing. Omelogor captures this after her aunt tells her that a woman cannot be happy without a husband or children: "There is always another way to live, Aunty. There are other ways to live," Omelogor thinks.

Perhaps it is this conditioning that keeps many women trapped in abusive marriages, because being safe, if it means being alone, is not seen as an option.

Dream Count will leave you questioning how you select those you love and what your choices reveal about your character judgement. Most importantly, it will prompt you to reflect on what matters — and which path you are willing to take, regardless of the world's expectations.

Jane Shussa is passionate about books, coffee, nature, and travel. She serves as a Senior Digital Communications Officer for Twaweza East Africa.