Chiamaka (Chia), one of the four main characters in this novel, aches to be fully known by another person--and as her cousin and best friend Omelogor points out, within a heterosexual relationship. It struck me as I was reading that exchange that this novel is structured and written in such a way that it feels very much like I know Chia to her core. She is as real a person to me as anyone could be, because I felt like I met the innermost self of this fictional but complex and fully realized character.

Dream Count feels more like an immersive experience than a traditional novel. The book is broken into sections, each dedicated to one of the four main characters--Chia, Omelogor, Kadiatou (Kadi), and Zikora. As their lives intersect, so do elements of their stories; for instance, we first learn of one of Chia's boyfriends in passing in Omelogor's section, and later are introduced to that relationship in a later section as we more deeply explore Chia's life.

There is no central narrative as such, just intersecting lives, but if there is an event that anchors the latter half of the book, it's Kadi's story. Relationships--platonic, familial, romantic, business, and adversarial, both past and present--are the central features of and links between each of the sections. Chia's section focuses primarily on romantic relationships, which she calls her dream count as they reflect her dream to be known so completely. Zikora's initially focuses on her romantic partners, but widens (to her story's benefit) to include her newborn and mother. Kadi's strongest relationships are with her sister and daughter, both named Binda; her story and section are the most compelling of the four. Omelogor, notable amongst the group for her more transitory sexual relationships, seems most driven by the bonds of friendship and community.

If you are looking for a plot-driven book, or one with a clear "point," this is not the book for you. But if you are looking for richly depicted characters and superb writing, I'd highly suggest this book. I will be thinking about it, and the women within, for a long time to come.

4.5/5 stars

A sweeping and emotional novel of four women from Nigeria who recount their present and past lives and lives. During the pandemic Chia, a travel writer with wealthy parents, remembers her past loves and recounts life with each. Zikora, a successful lawyer, becomes a single mother after what she thinks is her true love abandons her. Onelogore becomes a successful though unscrupulous banker who has a change of heart and becomes a blog writer. Each of these women are privileged and lead lives that, while outwardly successful, lead to inner turmoil. Kadiatou is a maid who brings her daughter to America to have a better life but troubles upset her dreams.
This novel is exceptionally well-written and provides insight into the Igbo culture. After a somewhat slow start, Kadiatou’s story crashes into the plot and takes away your breath.
Recommended for readers of feminist literature.

“Novels are never really about what they are about.”—Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Adichie has never let me down. After reading her novel of the Biafran War, Half of a Yellow Sun, and then Purple Hibiscus, I wanted her to have my babies. Her novels are particularly stunning and intimate, with fully fleshed-out characters who could walk off the pages into my life. I find it really difficult to read ebooks, but I was too eager to wait, and Net Galley offered this digital copy. As ever, Adichie breaks my heart and somehow manages to put it back together with hope and heft. I plan to read it again when the paper copy is published. I'll admit, I have a hard time reviewing ebooks, so excuse all my broad reductions.

This is a story about four interconnected women (by blood or friendship), the pandemic cutting through the setting or fading in the background, and the women's hopes and dreams in the foreground. It’s also about love, of course, relationships, and dignity and self-care, a sense of identity and also courage to live your life with purpose and confidence. And finding the right people who support you.

Each woman has her own long section in the book that focuses on their attachments, their ambitions, and their introspections. Chia (Chiamaka) is the first narrator, and perhaps the main character in this ensemble cast. (You decide when you are finished). She is a Nigerian travel writer, a determined beauty still looking for love in some of the wrong places. She’s lived in America long enough to amass a lot of our euphemistic verbiage, which adds a comic flair at well-timed moments. The title of the book refers to Chia’s musings about her exes, which her friends called her body count but she insists are her “dream count.” She often reflected on the men that shaped the landscape of her life.

Zikora, Chia’s good friend, is a successful lawyer with a boyfriend that she adores. She is not exactly estranged from her mother but maintains a cool distance. When something happens to upset the balance of her current relationship, she has to decide whether to let her mother back into her closely guarded life.

Omegolor is Chia’s cousin, and a fiercely independent woman working in the banking industry in Nigeria. She comes to America for graduate school, probably the oldest in her class. This is where the reader will come full force into the culture wars that are dividing us. Adichie explores this without putting her own thumb on the scale. She’s so nuanced that you won’t feel lectured by the narrative, but rather heightened. It’s about identity and finding your own voice. Omegolor often pushed back on the other students with their talking points. She starts to realize the hollowness of these naïve students and their tailored points of view.

Kadiatou is Chia’s housekeeper, an immigrant who was reluctant to come to the U.S. She gave in primarily to give her daughter more options. What happens to Kadiatou is a representation of immigrant women everywhere—class struggles, misogyny, the judicial system, and who can buy justice. An incident leaves her powerless and afraid. The way she finally takes back her power---well, you won’t see it coming, but it is authentic. I was deeply satisfied with the ending.

Adichie’s author’s note at the end is one of the most beautiful I have ever read. I won’t spoil it, but it flawlessly ties together her own life and grief (of her mother’s death) with the themes of the story, especially with one particular character. Dream Count is a deep exploration of human desires, the search for love and identity, and the struggle of integration in America. Captivating, and never heavy-handed. Ms. Adichie covers serious and topical themes with lightness and original content. Generous and wise, lyrical and memorable.

“I wanted love, old-fashioned love. I wanted my dreams afloat with his…to share our truest selves, to fight and be briefly bereft…But it was pedestrian, he said, this idea of love, bourgeois juvenilia that Hollywood has been feeding people for years.”

“…I dreamed not of marriage but of how we might become truly intertwined…More than marriage, I was looking for what I then did not know as the resplendence of being truly known.”

Thank you to Net Galley and Knopf for providing me a digital copy for review.

My heart ached and soared as I immersed myself in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Dream Count, a soul-stirring masterpiece that left me breathless. This isn't just a novel – it's a mirror reflecting the raw, beautiful complexity of women's lives, told with such tender insight that I found myself wiping away tears more than once.

The four Nigerian women at the heart of this story became my constant companions, their struggles and triumphs echoing in my mind long after I turned the last page. Chiamaka's lonely pandemic isolation in America pierced me deeply – her desperate search for meaning in past relationships felt like a conversation with my own memories. Zikora's story of betrayal and resilience made my chest tight with recognition; how many of us have built gleaming professional facades while our hearts crumbled in silence?

I fell deeply in love with Omelogor's fierce spirit, even as my heart broke watching her realize that her corporate armor couldn't protect her innermost self. But it was Kadiatou, the housekeeper, who truly captured my soul – her quiet dignity in the face of crushing systemic inequality left me both inspired and angry at the world's persistent injustices.

What moved me most profoundly was Adichie's extraordinary ability to make me feel the weight of every choice these women face. The pandemic backdrop amplifies their isolation and vulnerability with devastating precision. Through their intertwined stories, I found myself questioning everything I thought I knew about privilege, resilience, and the true nature of fulfillment.

The prose itself is a thing of devastating beauty – there were passages so piercing I had to pause and catch my breath. Adichie doesn't just tell these stories; she makes you live them, feel them in your bones. Her observations about identity, ambition, and cultural expectations aren't just insightful – they're transformative.

This isn't a book you simply read and set aside. It's an experience that changes you, challenges you, and ultimately enriches your understanding of what it means to be human. Dream Count is more than a masterpiece – it's a gift that reminds us why literature has the power to heal, unite, and illuminate the deepest corners of our shared humanity.

A very huge thanks to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor | Knopf for sharing this amazing book's digital reviewer copy with me in exchange for my honest thoughts.

Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is another remarkable novel from a writer who never fails to captivate. The book delves into the interconnected lives of three main characters, each navigating their dreams and the often stark reality that attempts to crush them. Adichie excels in drawing deep, authentic portraits of her characters and the social and political settings they inhabit.

The novel's central theme revolves around dreams in both their literal and metaphorical forms. Adichie masterfully highlights how dreams can be both a source of hope and a path to possible disappointment. Her writing is simultaneously poetic and grounded, making every page feel alive with emotion and truth. This book is a moving and thoughtful read that will stick with you long after you've turned the last page.

Thanks to Netgalley and Knopf for the ebook. An exciting, inner epic of three Nigerian women, two now in America and one still back home, who examine the roads, and men, not taken as all their lives stop for the pandemic. And such rich lives: Chiamaka, from a rich family, writes travel pieces that don’t actually mean much to her financially, but play into her life as a hopeless romantic. Zikora is her lawyer friend who thinks she’s found the perfect partner until the idea of a child is introduced. Omelogor is a strong willed Nigerian banker who has to navigate male colleagues and slack banking laws. A fascinating portrait of these interesting women.

I just finished 'Dream Count' by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and it really stuck with me. The novel follows four women, each dealing with personal struggles during the pandemic. Chiamaka, a Nigerian travel writer living in America, uses the quiet of quarantine to reflect on past relationships and regrets. Zikora, her best friend, is a successful lawyer who hits an emotional low after a painful breakup. Omelogor, Chiamaka’s cousin, seems to have it all together professionally but feels lost when it comes to personal fulfillment. Meanwhile, Kadiatou, Chiamaka's housekeeper, faces immense hardship while trying to raise her daughter. This book is in many ways a love letter to mothers and daughters!

What really struck me was how Adichie captures the tension between privilege and survival. Chiamaka, coming from a life of financial stability, has the space to explore personal growth and romantic mistakes. On the other hand, Kadiatou is in constant survival mode, highlighting how emotional healing often depends on having the basic resources needed to feel safe.

The book also made me reflect on the difference between being truly known versus being desired. It raises questions about whether love (or desire masked as love) is authentic if the other person doesn’t fully understand us—or if sometimes we settle for the idea of love rather than genuine connection. Adichie’s storytelling made me think deeply about these themes, and I appreciated how she explored the complexity of women’s experiences, especially when facing societal expectations around relationships and self-worth.

Woof. Adichie continues to write some of the best prose I've ever read. Told from the points of view of several women whose lives and timelines are intertwined, this novel didn't slow down. If you're someone who struggles with pandemic books, this might be a skip. I normally don't enjoy reading about lockdowns and reliving that particular part of 2020/21, but it was actually fascinating to read about these experiences from a non-US-centric viewpoint. A hard novel to read, but an important one. I know it's too early, but would love to see this in miniseries format!

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.

DREAM COUNT was only the second book I read by this author and, even though I liked both of them, I wonder if this author is 'for me'.
I do like to follow multiple POVs and different timeles and wait for how everyone and everything will be connected in the end, but this book, sometimes, failed to hold my attention and keep my curiosity.
Most likely because, even though I empathised with most characters, I didn't really feel connected or relatd to any of them. And I understand it's a personal issue of mine. There is nothing wrong with this story or let alone the writing.
If you have read a book by this author and you enjoyed the writing and how Adichie portraits her characters, go for it.

Thank you, NetGalley and Knopf, for allowing me to read an early copy of this novel.

Thank you NetGalley and Knopf publishing for this ARC!

I feel like this book will make a lot of best of lists for 2025. It's filled with great pull quotes and interesting female characters. It was both about nothing and also covers many relevant social issues. I still don't like pandemic books but this one isn't too heavy handed.

Perfect for book clubs!

I liked this book and the characters, but I'm giving it three stars instead of four because it was a little hard to follow. I found it difficult to decide if the story being told was in the past or present. Finally I got to a part that discussed the pandemic and realized that was set in the current time and everything else was in the past.

The first section is the story told from Chia's point of view and then the following sections tell a similar story, but from those friend's point of view. The book ends back with Chia and wraps up the story for each woman.

The book reads more like short stories than a novel. It's really well written and likable once you establish a timeline for the book.

4.5 How to describe this, 4 women who's lives are loosely woven together tell the stories of men in their lives. Let's just say the men do not come off well. The majority leave the women in a worse place than before they met them. I really enjoyed the different views of each women. It's a hard read but worth it for the one characters viewpoint on the left's policing of words more than actions and for the views of assault by powerful men.

I know this is going to be one of the buzziest books of the spring and it is well-deserved. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is such a powerful writer and I can't wait for everyone to be able to read this!

Dream Count is a hard book. I imagine people will love it and hate it. I am somewhere in the middle. The writing is stunning. I was struck time and again by how Chimamanda Adichie describes things. The content was a roller coaster for me.

The story is told from four perspectives: Chiamaka (Chia), Zikora, Katiadou, and Omelogor. The first two, Chia and Zikora, were so unlikable. Chia chases man after man that demeans and demoralizes her. The men are terrible. And Chia keeps trying to nail them down. It made me hate the men and dislike Chia. Then, Zikora isn’t much better. And neither are the men she likes. The word that came to mind as I read was “insipid.” Why did these women not have any self-respect? Would that ever come? And yet, the writing kept me hooked.

The third section is told from Katiadou’s perspective. Kati is an entirely different character. Poorer than the uber-wealthy Chia; in fact, Kati works for her. And when she’s not working for Chia, Kati is a hotel maid. Kati’s story is sad in an entirely different way. To my total surprise, Kati’s is the story that inspired this book. It feels saddles in the middle and not nearly as prominent. (Read the author’s note to hear more about Kati & the inspiration.) I don’t want to say much here because I don’t want to spoil things, but Kati’s story is deeply sad.

And then the last character we dive into is Omelogor. She’s the only story and character I enjoyed. Omelogor has confidence and moxie. No one walks over her. Omelogor commands power and influence and uses it to elevate other women. She’s flawed, but admirable. And her “dear men” letters crack me up.

The book has a backdrop of the pandemic. It’s there and not. But enough to make you recall that strange time where we heard it was coming, but didn’t understand how bad things were going to get.

There’s some points on politics, a lot on race, wealth, and more. Overall, I liked this book, but it was a slog and hard to get through, especially in the beginning when I was so dismayed with the characters. The last time I remember reading a book I liked with characters I sorely disliked was The Namesake, another blockbuster. Ultimately, recommended. And grateful to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Quotes:

“Omelogor once said she was happy Nigeria wasn’t a tourist country because “people become props, and countries become performances instead of places.””

“Underneath her faultless ability to find faults lay a deep apprehension. She wanted the world to be perfect for the deserving, and the deserving were those she loved.”

“…the clarity of hindsight is bewildering. If only we could see our failings while we are still failing.”

“You don’t stop at longing; you use the force of your longing to bring into being the life that you want, or you try to, at least.”

"Dream Count" by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is an absolute masterpiece that manages to live up to the high expectations set for it as one of the most anticipated books of 2025. This beautifully written novel delves deep into the complexities of human emotions and relationships, particularly those between mothers and daughters, and offers a powerful reflection on love, happiness, and the choices we make.

Adichie's talent for storytelling is on full display in this book, as she weaves together vivid descriptions, compelling characters, and a plot that will keep readers engaged from start to finish. Her writing is both poignant and unflinching, offering a window into the heart of what it means to be human.

"Dream Count" is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature, and it's sure to leave a lasting impression on all who read it. This is a book that will stay with you long after the final page, and it's one that you'll want to add to the top of your TBR pile as soon as possible.

It took a long time to read this book and I have mixed feelings about it. there were parts that were moving, a satisfying end, lots of interesting info and observations about different cultures, both Nigerian and others. Philisophical at times, but also at times filled with many unnecessary details, like what one of the characters ate for breakfast one day and breakfast another day. The length of the book was hard for me, made it feel like work at times and I kept thinking at times what is the point, and at other times, the point was clear. so for me a good third could have been left out and made it more powerful.

Four beautiful African women feature in this book. All are looking for peace and love. Each has her own story to tell, with all the ups and downs that life, especially love life, can bring.

One of them, Kadiatou, is the victim of a hideous act, and her story, which harks back to a real-life incident that took place in New York City in 2011, is the most harrowing. In her Author’s Note, Adichie is at pains to explain her reactions to this incident. All I can say is, she has luminously portrayed Kadiatou’s actions and reactions, especially her emotional state, and I’m wondering why Kadiatou’s story isn’t the major plot, especially since Adichie writes that the victim’s accusation “represented a significant cultural moment in America.”

There are many themes worked in these women’s stories: betrayal, motherhood, friendship and its costs, the effect of the Covid pandemic on people’s lives, all of them most interestingly portrayed.

Additionally, in the Author’s Note Adichie tells us this book was written as a kind of catharsis after the deeply-felt loss of her mother. She has written a very engaging tribute, and I’m sure her mother would be very proud.

It seems I waited a long time for Chimananda Ngozi Adichie's latest book, Dream Count. It was definitely worth waiting for. I am a big fan of her writing, and especially her characters. This novel is about female friends, their daily lives and adventures, and I became friends with all of them. I thought of Chiamaka (Chia) as the author personified! I had a love/hate relationship with Omelogor and her Robin Hood project. My heart went out to Kadiatou and the injustice she suffered. Ms Adichie's writing evokes such emotions in me that I miss her characters after I finish the book. I hope her next novel isnt so many years off!!!

The world has changed significantly since 2013, when Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie wrote Americanah, her breathtaking mosaic on all-things-racial. And we, who are now mired in false outrage and dissatisfaction, have changed with it.

In her afterward, the author says that “stories die and recede from collective memory mostly for not being told.” We must clearly and consistently see, interpret, and question the world. We must also look back on how we lived and identify what endures.

Some things will always remain: the hunger for enduring friendship and family connections, the mentality of scarcity even if we have enough, the struggle to reinvent ourselves, better understand our values and culture, and define ourselves as women (particularly Black women without that all-important MAN to give us societal respect.

Here we have four women: Chiamaka, a Nigerian travel writer who lives in America. She constantly adds to her body count – she calls them her dream count – of men who ultimately fall short of what she’s looking for. Her best friend Zikora, a lawyer, is similarly unlucky in the men she trusts. Omegolor, Chiamaka’s cousin, plays by man’s rules, and as a result, is wildly successful, and emotionally shut off. And then there is Kadiatou, who keeps house for Chiamaka and whose life is, in many ways, the emotional foundation of this novel.

It is tempting to try to surmise which of these characters is the pivot for all that happens. Does Adichie intend it to be the one whose tale opens and closes the book (the only character who is given two sections)? Is it the one who is the apparent spokeswoman for the current culture in Nigeria (not unlike Ifemelu in Americanah, who blogged articles such as “To My Fellow Non-American Blacks: In America, You Are Black, Baby, Omegolor pens a blog that begins “Dear Men” and tutors men on how to better understand their role). Is it the one who Adichie reveals, in her afterword, translates her own grief? Or is it Kadiatou, who grips the reader with the unfairness of life? I have my opinion, and I’ll leave it to others to decide. But I believe all four narratives are dependent on each other for the full scope to emerge.

The novel asks why we remember what we remember, and which reels from our past truly assert their vivid selves. As in her past works, Dream Count tackles what matters: our cultural, gender, socioeconomic, and racial divides, and the difficulty of maintaining our power when men set the rules. This novel – Adichie’s first in a decade – was well worth waiting for, and I thank Knopf and NetGalley for the privilege of being an early reviewer in exchange for an honest review.

The author has made some comments about trans women that are absolutely atrocious and I will not be supporting this book or the author.