Alexander Obioma

From the very first page, down to the last paragraph, this book was a work of art. With a level of finesse that is almost diabolic, the writer reels in the reader’s attention, appealing to the ever elusive sense of hope. Having seduced the reader into nurturing this hope, he goes on to systematically destroy it- all the while fanning its embers with voiceless echoes, hinting at a better future. This, in my opinion, was the selling point of this work. The writing itself is astute- his mastery of personification is more that evident. Lots of colorful phrases and metaphors that kind of dances across each page- like a beautiful melody. But, with all the lows and highs, in truth, it’s more like an orchestra. This is a story from a beautiful time- punctuated with actual historical figures that makes this work come alive. It is a story of brotherhood, of loyalty at its basest form, of fear, adventure, grief, and full blown psychosis. Asides from Dickens, very few authors have truly mastered the art of capturing childhood fear. Mr. Obioma, in my opinion, has written himself in this enviable list.