Glory Glory

 NoViolet Bulawayo’s Glory isn't just a book; it’s a full-throttle, firework display of political satire that feels painfully familiar.

 It takes the classic animal-fable format and transports it to the fictional African nation of Jidada, swapping humans for a cast of baboons, dogs, and goats who are entirely too good at being corrupt politicians. It’s big, it’s loud, and it uses language that is a pure, exhilarating party. Hello, Hama (friend/relative), get ready to laugh until it hurts.

​The setting, Jidada, is the beating heart of the book, a place that is immediately recognizable as any nation suffocating under decades of bad leadership. The animals are the perfect vehicle for this kind of sharp, observational humor because their actions are so cartoonishly awful, yet they mirror real-world political maitiro (behavior) exactly. The sheer absurdity of watching these creatures jockey for power and  makes a spectacular mess of everything gives Bulawayo a canvas to deliver her critiques with devastating effect. It’s the kind of satire that makes you pause, sigh heavily, and then immediately burst into laughter.

​At the center of Jidada’s woes is the original dictator, Old Horse. Now, this gogo of a leader is the novel’s magnificent villain, a stubbornly entrenched despot who believes they are divinely appointed to rule forever.  You find yourself simultaneously shaking your head at his audacity and admiring Bulawayo’s ability to capture the pathetic nature of a tyrant trying desperately to cling to power long after their time is up.

​The emotional anchor, however, belongs to the protagonist, Destiny. She returns kumba  after years of exile, walking straight into the dizzying chaos of the "after"—the period following a revolution that promised change but delivered more instability. Destiny’s journey is about reckoning with her own history and the collective trauma that allowed the dictatorship to thrive. It’s the essential, necessary part of the  thing that gives the whole political farce weight, ensuring that the reader understands the true cost of silence and complicity.

​But honestly, the star of this show is the language itself. Bulawayo is an absolute wizard, taking the King’s English, smashing it up with local idioms, and seasoning it generously with the language of the modern internet. Her use of hashtags, social media speak, and rapid-fire dialogue feels incredibly alive, giving the narrative an immediacy that a traditional literary style wouldn’t achieve. 

​So, should you pick up Glory? Yes, absolutely. It's a powerful, challenging, and wickedly entertaining book that speaks volumes about authoritarianism, gender, power structures, and the possibility of genuine healing. It’s a big, punch to the gut and a huge hug to the heart all at once. Go get this book and tell everyone about it.