"Readers will be caught by the contemporary story of prejudice, both unspoken and violent, as tension builds to the climax."— Booklist
"A moving novel that explores finding the worth of an individual as they see themselves, not as the world sees them."—VOYA
★ "A riveting snapshot of one Tanzanian boy who makes himself matter."—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
★ “Readers will be haunted by Habo’s voice as he seeks a place of dignity and respect in society. An important and affecting story.”—School Library Journal, starred review
“Harrowing but ultimately redemptive… the murder of Tanzania's albinos is a real and horrific phenomenon of the past 15 years, a cold fact that makes the fictional events in ‘Golden Boy’ more moving and consequential than those in any dystopian young-adult chase-drama.”—The Wall Street Journal
"Golden Boy is an amazing story of prejudice, bravery and acceptance. From the very first page, I was captivated by Habo and his struggle to find his place in the world."—Kristin Levine, critically acclaimed author of The Lions of Little Rock
"A commandingly written debut, Golden Boy is a moving, gorgeous account of what it means to feel profoundly different when the stakes are survival itself."—Eliot Schrefer, author of National Book Award Finalist Endangered
"Through the course of the story Habo grows from a dependent character to one who is strong enough to defend himself and others against injustice. Well-written and researched..."—LMC
Sullivan's standout debut spotlights the quest of 13-year-old Habo, an albino ("zeruzeru") struggling to survive in Tanzania, where albinos are both reviled and prized; some even believe that their limbs possess magic and are willing to kill for them. The narrative begins in the small village of Arusha, where Habo, his mother, and siblings are starving. The family decides to immigrate to the city of Mwanza, in hopes of finding stability. In raw, candid prose, Sullivan conveys Habo's learned shame and the violence that his family encounters as a result of their poverty and perceived difference. Habo's sense of liberation is almost palpable when an elderly, blind sculptor trains him as an apprentice and begins to show him the meaning of unconditional love. Weaving in Kiswahili words and phrases, Sullivan presents a nuanced view of Tanzanian culture and its entangled economic circumstances, while writing vividly of the country's landscape. Though the novel is horrifying in parts, Habo's tender interactions with those he loves combat the sense of lurking dread that, most often, takes human form. Ages 12–up. Agent: Caryn Wiseman, Andrea Brown Literary Agency. (June)
"Through the course of the story Habo grows from a dependent character to one who is strong enough to defend himself and others against injustice. Well-written and researched..."--LMC
"A commandingly written debut, Golden Boy is a moving, gorgeous account of what it means to feel profoundly different when the stakes are survival itself."--Eliot Schrefer, author of National Book Award Finalist Endangered
"Golden Boy is an amazing story of prejudice, bravery and acceptance. From the very first page, I was captivated by Habo and his struggle to find his place in the world."--Kristin Levine, critically acclaimed author of The Lions of Little Rock and The Best Bad Luck I Ever Had
“Harrowing but ultimately redemptive…the murder of Tanzania's albinos is a real and horrific phenomenon of the past 15 years, a cold fact that makes the fictional events in ‘Golden Boy’ more moving and consequential than those in any dystopian young-adult chase-drama.” –The Wall Street Journal
"Readers will be caught by the contemporary story of prejudice, both unspoken and violent, as tension builds to the climax."--Booklist
Gr 8 Up—Habo, 13, knows that his albinism makes him a zeruzeru, less than a person. His skin burns easily, and his poor eyesight makes school almost impossible. People shun or mock him. Unable to accept his son's white skin and yellow hair, his father abandoned the family, and they cannot manage their drought-ravaged farm in a small Tanzanian village. Habo and his mother, sister, and brother travel across the Serengeti to seek refuge with his aunt's family in Mwanza. Along the way, they hitch a ride with an ivory poacher, Alasiri, who kills elephants without remorse for the money the tusks bring. In Mwanza, the family learns that one commodity can fetch even higher prices: a zeruzeru. Rich people will pay handsomely for albino body parts, and Alasiri plans to make his fortune. Habo must flee to Dar es Salaam before he is killed. After a harrowing escape, he reaches the city and miraculously encounters a person to whom his appearance makes no difference: a blind woodcarver named Kweli. Slowly Habo develops a sense of self-worth as well as carving skills. When Alasiri brings ivory for Kweli to carve, the boy and old man work with the police to send the hunter to prison. Habo's gripping account propels readers along. His narrative reveals his despair, anger, and bewilderment, but there are humorous moments, too. Although fortuitous encounters and repeated escapes may seem unlikely, the truth underlying the novel is even more unbelievable. In Tanzania, people with albinism have been maimed and killed for their body parts, thought to bring good luck. Readers will be haunted by Habo's voice as he seeks a place of dignity and respect in society. An important and affecting story.—Kathy Piehl, Minnesota State University, Mankato
Some call Habo a zeruzeru—a zero-zero—nothing. Others willingly pursue the riches his albino body parts will bring on the black market in Sullivan's intense debut. With his white skin, shaky, blue, unfocused eyes and yellow hair, 13-year-old Habo fits nowhere in his chocolate-brown Tanzanian family—not with his brothers who shun him, nor even with his mother, who avoids his touch. Did this bad-luck child even cause his father to abandon him at his birth? Only Habo's sister, Asu, protects and nurtures him. Poverty forces the family from their rural home near Arusha to Mwanza, hundreds of miles away, to stay with relatives. After their bus fare runs out, they hitch a ride across the Serengeti with an ivory poacher who sees opportunity in Habo. Forced to flee for his life, the boy eventually becomes an apprentice to Kweli, a wise, blind carver in urban Dar es Salaam. The stark contrasts Habo experiences on his physical journey to safety and his emotional journey to self-awareness bring his growth into sharp relief while informing readers of a social ill still prevalent in East Africa. Thankfully for readers as well as Habo, the blind man's appreciation challenges Habo to prove that he is worth more alive than dead. His present-tense narration is keenly perceptive and eschews self-pity. A riveting fictional snapshot of one Tanzanian boy who makes himself matter. (Fiction. 12-16)
