Of course I didn’t feel this way when I was old enough to go to school and my classmates called me names. In fact, it was a blessing, because it was a part of me, they said. Instead they let it grow and, as I got older, made sure I understood that being dada was not a curse. As a result, my parents didn’t cut my hair, and they weren’t scared by it either. These stories said that the dada-born were destined to be wise beings, not necessarily rebels.

Thankfully, when I was born, my parents were open-minded, well educated, and familiar with some of the older stories about dada people. Girls were supposed to be soft, quiet, and pleasant. That you caused things to rebel or that you would grow up to be rebellious yourself! And what made things even worse was that I was a girl, and only boys and men were supposed to be rebellious. That you could walk into a room and a mysterious wind would knock things over or clocks would automatically stop that your mere presence would cause flowers to grow underneath the soil instead of above. To many, to be dada meant you were born with strange powers. Imagine that! To be born with vines growing in your hair! But that’s the nature of dada people, like myself. Instead, they were more like plants that had attached themselves to my hair as I grew inside my mother’s womb.

Contrary to what a lot of people think, these vines didn’t sprout directly from my head. I had dadalocks, and woven inside each one of those clumps was a skinny, light green vine. She took me in her arms and gently touched one of the thick clumps of hair growing from my little head. I can see that, my mother replied with a smile. dada, said the doctor, looking surprised. When I was born, my mother took one look at me and laughed. I'd actually classify this as Middle Grade because Zahrah is a quiet 13, still coming into her own young adult womanhood.) Read more All that is only a sampling of life on the planet Ginen.3 stars(Simply because its audience is definitely the younger side of YA. Mischievous trees who protect their bees.

Okorafor's love of animals and nature shine through every page and I loved that. Now unfortunately, unlike Zahrah, those young readers' hidden powers aren't likely to be the ability to fly, but you know, having a voice you're not afraid to use or being okay with who you are, is nothing to snub your nose at either.I loved the blend of African folklore with science fiction. 13-year-old Zahrah's quest to save her best friend, Dari, is an action-packed adventure through a forbidden jungle that will empower young readers, especially introverted Black girls, to believe in their own power and abilities.

Zahrah the Windseeker by Nnedi Okorafor