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to begin with, the writing was terrible. it took me a while to understand what she was talking about
as a diaspora myself, this did not connect with me and in no way did I feel nostalgic.
most memoirs are disturbing i get it, but just because someone has published their life stories doesnt mean i need to read them, right?
besides, this felt more like a practice writing exercise than a proper book
there is not a single character, let alone the main narrator, that i felt relatable to or that had intrigued me
maybe the dadi was someone who I understood better