The memoir progressively comes off as an album of eclectic cuts. If “Signs of Our Redemption” burns bright as the bold anthem chronicling the #EndSARS saga, “Don't Cry For Me, Argentina” is the wistful paean for diminished talents and dreams (“Nigeria happens to the best of us…”), while “And Always Remember Them” stands out as a poetic and elegiac tribute to the fiery season of 2020 (“It is the forgotten who are truly dead” p. 192). David's use of “We remember them” as a refrain in that chapter creates a hypnotic, incantatory rhythm that sustains emotional accumulation.
From the outset, the novel establishes the dreadful gravity of this decision. On page 39, an elder observes, “When the gods want to bring down a man's house, they set in motion a chain of events that lead to his downfall.” Yet as the narrative unfolds, Patrice emerges not merely as a victim of metaphysical forces, but of rigid standards of masculinity that leave him unable to retreat without feeling emasculated. To admit fault, in his mind, would be to embrace weakness.
Idris Elba is set to star in and executive produce a TV series adaptation of Chinua Achebe’s acclaimed novel Things...
The profundity of these presumably simple words of consolation combines effectively with his wise saying about the sun to bestow the toga of an unsung philosopher on Unoka, thus setting the stage for endless dialogue on his character.







