I always feel a little guilty when I have less than glowing things to say about a memoir, particularly when it's about a person overcoming a traumatic upbringing. I was really interested in this book at first because I knew nothing about Rastafarianism and the first couple of chapters were fascinating. As the book progressed though, it felt like it was getting more and more bogged down with the day to day minutiae of her life in a way that didn't feel like it was moving a narrative along, and at 20%... she's only at age 6 in the story. I may come back to this someday but for now I just don't feel super compelled to read the remaining 13 hours of content.