Purple Hibiscus

Purple Hibiscus feels like holding your breath for most of the book. It’s Kambili’s and Jaja’s story. Growing up rich, Catholic and painfully controlled. While reading, I kept asking myself: Do I believe because I feel God or because belief was forced on me? Who am I without the routine and fear that shaped me? Those questions sat heavy, the way they sit with Kambili and with Jaja too. I never fully understood Kambili’s love for her father. (But then I never really understood my own…) . A man who didn’t just control his children, but took away their right to even be someone. And yet, she believed everything he did was good. Because when you’re never shown kindness, you don’t know what “good” actually looks like. She moves through life confused, quiet, trying to make sense of a world that keeps hurting her. The ending felt inevitable. Honestly, this book would’ve lost stars if it ended any other way (joking… kind of). Courage finally met a mother’s heart. May that courage find every family living in silence. It found my mom eventually. Thank you Chimamanda for telling this story and for letting Nigerian culture breathe through every page. And also can we talk about how beautiful Igbo sounds while reading? The language, the rhythm… it stayed with me. If you know, you know.

Very well told,