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CHAPTER THREE: BLAME IT ON MUDI😤:A WEAKNESS CALLED LOVE: MEMOIRS OF AN AFRICAN HOUSEMAID.

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CHAPTER 3: BLAME IT ON MUDI. I woke up to the next morning feeling much better, hard as I may try, i could not get Mudi off my mind. I have to come up with a new strategy to lure him, my mother did not raised a quitter. Just then, my mother walked into the room. I was lost in my thought, i did not hear her come in. “What are you still doing in here?”. “Come quickly and go to Hajiya Uwani’s place.  Buy us pap for 30 naira. I forgot to soak our millet yester night”. Ughhh! I sighed. I wore my Hijab (a head covering/headscarf worn by observant Muslim women, that covers the upper part of a lady, usually reaching the knees. In Arabic known as Khimar )picked up the money she dropped on our mattress, that was barely covered with a worn out sheet. The mattress was already flat due to overuse the foam cover was no more, revealing the bare yellow foam. My younger one had wet the mattress, I sprinkled a generous amount of water at the place she messed up and took it out, under the sun t

ANNA: CHAPTER ONE

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CHAPTER 1: It's been three days now since momma went to sleep and she never woke up. I tried to wake her up this morning but she didn't even move. I got so worried because she hasn't eaten showered, or brushed her teeth for days now. she hasn't been reading my bed time stories for me or given me my daily dose of bear hugs, I miss those so much. Gosh! She must be so tired, I guess she's still resting because she's a workerholic. so I let her be.            My Momma is a very hard working woman, she's always on her feet because she's got three jobs. She works as a nanny at a mansion in the morning, an errand girl for mr Hopkins in the afternoon and a bartender in a bar at night. During the weekends she drops me off at our neighbors house mrs Martin. Mrs Martin is a very nice, kind and generous woman, she's in her early 50's but she has never had a child of her own. she adores me and I like her. During the week my momma leaves me at the
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Meet Anna, a strong girl who had been through hell yet her heart remains pure.She falls in love with the handsome bad boy genius. Who not only showed her the world but also how to love.  A story of love and self discovery. Inspired by a true life story.

CHAPTER TWO: MUDI MY BELOVED ( A WEAKNESS CALLED LOVE: MEMOIRS OF AN AFRICAN HOUSEMAID)❤💋

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We started walking to the village square in silence. My mind went to Mudi, how could i get his attention. I do know that I may be lacking in societies beauty department with regards to my body structure, but I have my womanly quirks. And I do have a pretty face, I am light skinned that has to count for something. Besides the definition of beauty here has a lot to do with fair skin. I just don't understand why I am a bit nervous. It was a feeling foreign to me. I have to catch his attention somehow even though all my previous invitation to treat had gone unnoticed. Perhaps if I sang for him or fake a fall like in all those folk tale I might gain his attention, at least I know I have a gift for singing. At this point I'm not even going as far as wanting him to talk to me. All I want is a mere glance my way, a proof that my excessive invitation to treat hadn't gone unnoticed. I look down at my body, sure I was in my best clothes but I couldn't help but wish they

CHAPTER ONE

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It was night and the moon was shining brightly, a perfect day for our night games. I was eager to go to the village ground/ square because I know definitely he was going to be there. Yes, mudi my beloved will be there. I had to dress my best to get his attention. Although he is unaware of my feelings for him, I was determined to make him mine. I brought out my newest wrapper. It was blue and had paintings of a red peacock on it. It was sown by hajiya talatu, our village greatest fashion designer(tailor).  I have'nt  gotten a single new wrapper for a year, when my mother sold her new dishes(samira) she brought a wrapper each for me and my siblings, to save us from the antagonizing backbiting and side remarks of the villagers . she had been saving for 5 years, whenever the money reaches an amount that will buy her a dish, she buys and keep it. She says she is saving for our marriage. Those dishes are valuable in my village and they fetch a buyer easily. I brought our loose red po

A WEAKNESS CALLED LOVE: MEMOIRS OF AN AFRICAN HOUSEMAID

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Follow the intriguing life of a 15 year old Ladi, who has been working as a housemaid since she was 8 years old. She found love in the most unexpected places and tries to do everything in her power to hold on to that love. An emotional, heartfelt, adventurous story. Will Mudi the love of her life reciprocate that love or will she be consumed by his love? Only time will tell. EXCERPT : For the first time in forever, He looked at me. He did not just glanced, no! He really looked at me, like I am a human being worthy of his attention. My heart stopped, i did not know what to feel anymore. My throat was dry and my lips short of words. I could not bring myself to as as much as an ufff! I was spellbound. My brain was saying answer him you dimwit, but my voice betrayed me. My confidence all but melted away. What is this? This must be what love feels like, I'm sure of it... Chapter one to be uploaded soon This story is also available on Wattpad