Pride and Joy

I’ll admit, I was skeptical when the opening chapter had Auntie Ginny demanding everyone acknowledge the matriarch’s ghost—it felt like a gimmick. But by the 30-minute mark, I was hooked. Ladeinde’s performance is the secret weapon here; her delivery of Auntie Ginny’s *“I know what I know”* monologues is so perfectly pitched, it’s impossible not to cackle and cringe in the same breath. The real triumph, though, is the way Onomé handles the Okafor siblings. There’s no villain here, just people doing their best in a system that’s rigged against them. My only gripe? The audiobook’s runtime feels bloated in stretches—some scenes drag, particularly in the middle when the family’s bickering starts feeling more like filler than insight. Still, the payoff is worth it. The final act, where the siblings finally confront the mess they’ve made of their mother’s legacy, is so raw it feels like eavesdropping on someone’s private therapy session. Ladeinde’s voice cracks just enough to sell the emotional gut-punches, and the production quality ensures every sigh, shout, and whispered argument lands with cinematic clarity. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at your own family but still showed up for them, this book will gut you—and that’s a compliment.