Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

A black man nearby had hoisted his son onto his shoulders, and the son was laughing, his mouth full of milky teeth, one missing from the upper row. The father was looking up, and Ifemelu knew that he was stunned by his own faith, stunned to find himself believing in things he did not think he ever would. When the crowd exploded in applause, clapping and whistling, the man could not clap, because he was holding his son’s legs, and so he just smiled and smiled, his face suddenly young with joyfulness. Ifemelu watched him, and the other people around them, all glowing with strange phosphorescence, all treading a single line of unbroken emotion. They believed. They truly believed. 

Do you ever want to physically hug a book when you finish it? I absolutely adored this from beginning to end. It made me change the way I look at the world.


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