Americanah Novel By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Novels & Stories

' 'Thank you for coming to see me,' Amy said with mechanical politeness. Taking the words completely at surface value, Aminata smiled her brilliant smile. 'I too enjoy. We will meet again.' I wonder, Amy thought in renewed depression. Paul didn't know she'd come up here - I wonder if he'll let us meet again? When she was alone once more, the November sun seemed cold and colourless. She shut it out by closing her eyes and leant back in blank misery, holding the little black figure. What was this mysterious Mali where the women looked like Aminata and the men carved enigmatic little black versions of her? She pictured a jet-black, jet-shiny river flowing through dense green rainforest where ma

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I told her which seemed like an order . Me : Are you ok ? Amah : Do l look ok ? She answered with a question then rolled her eyes , her stinky attitude bores me . I decided to keep quiet and drove to the nearest pharmacy . Kept on stealing glances at her on the view mirror , it's not by mistake that her name is Amahle , in fact it doesn't do justice on her true beauty . I got outside the car and made way inside the pharmacy where I bought pain killers then drove home .We walked inside the house and I prepared the bathroom for her .

"That is good then. Just make dinner for me and run my bath, I am retiring early to bed today." "Okay ma" After eating and having my bath, I am on my bed reading a Americanah, an African themed novel by an African author, called Chimamanda Adichie, suddenly I remember what Nelly said to me at the restaurant but I just bluff it. My phone rings, I check the caller ID, it shows Alyssa with a heart emoji after the name. "Why is this smallie calling me?" I pick up the phone call. "Woman, what do you want?" I playfully ask her.

May entered Edric's room, packed all her belongings that were inside and carried them to Maryam's room. After she had placed them neatly at the end of her daughter's room, she turned to Maryam, who was sitting crossed leg and reading another novel. This one was bigger than the first book. "And what are you reading now, Maryam?" She looked up from her book with a smile. "Americana by Chimamanda Adichie." May rolled her eyes. "Where do you get all these books from?" "Sandra's older sister gave it to me. I'll have to return it on Monday."

This chapter is in third person p.o.v EIGHT MONTHS LATER Wunmi works as a secretary in one of the biggest clothing business line in Abuja after her graduation. She graduated with First Class Honours from the university of Lagos, during the convocation ceremony was when she was offered so many jobs and gifts. She chose the one at Abuja because it was a business she had an experience in.

The night before we leave, the night before January the sixth, I learn two things: there are two kinds of hunger, and one can keep you up all night, staring at the ceiling and missing a place and people you are yet to leave. It is two O'Clock in the morning and disconcertingly quiet when I decide that I can't endure the trashing and turning. I take a book from the shelf that will no longer be mine by evening, purple hibiscus, with the cracks on its cover and Adichie's delighted face above its blurb, and I go to the sitting room that will not be ours by evening.