Novel & Cerita Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Author

He instructed the class. How many times has someone mentioned the word 'different' since I got here? At the fundraising event, I heard that word about ten times from the people my aunt introduced me to. How am I different? I wanted to tell out. He walked over to the table in front of the class and passed me a book. I realized it was a novel; Purple hibiscus by Chimamanda Adichie. "That's the book we're currently studying, you can take it with you to your seat. Also, you can take the seat beside Webster" He dismissed me and I was bothered about how I'm supposed to know who Webster was.

I wanted to explore every corners of her delectable body, I wanted her warm hazel eyes to burn with fire for me. I had arrived yesterday from the US on some meeting with my father's old time friends and business associates. I hadn't expected to take so long, 3 weeks to be exact. But due to some glitches in our business centers abroad, I'd had to stay and work out the issue. All the while thinking about Sola. Sola Ojo. A 23 year old lady, who graduated from the college of tech finishing her OND with a good looking GPA. Working as an assistant supervisor in a local restaurant located in festac, Lagos.

She was busy thinking about her mistakes that made her this easy of a target by everyone. Once the girls were gone she continues to clean despite the pain she was feeling. She knew it. It was really bad for her to come close to those beautiful people. After cleaning she went out of the building with a portion of her face red. She's used to the pain but not with the insults. It was still hurting her even if it's going on for years now. "Keep your head up Braun, you might trip." Sasha glance up and saw Eustone leaning against the wall with a smile that immediately faded when he saw her face. The expression he was showing was kind and it reminded her of a beautiful springtime. A spring... ***

It may be her eyes, the spark in her dove-like eyes. Whenever my eyes met hers, I felt a riot in my heart and my blood got pumped faster. I guess it was her complexion and nice shape. Her appearance reminded me of my celebrity crush, the renowned award-winning authoress Chimamanda Adichie and the much talked about African beauty. What can I say of her height, her glittering chocolate skin and the grace with which she walked and talked? I couldnt but develop a liking for her.

She wrote about the confrontation conducted through text messages while she folded laundry, about naming deflection in real time, about refusing to be redirected, about the particular courage of a woman who has finally found her voice and is terrified of losing it again. She wrote about the dark bedroom and the truth that arrived in it. She wrote about the business and Ngozi and the morning she sat beside rather than across from and understood, in that simple repositioning, everything that needed to change. She wrote about Tobenna on the bench. About Kelechi's football dreams for a half-sibling he had never met. About Omachi offering her smallest rabbit as a diplomatic gesture to a child who

by the great African literary giant, Chinua Achebe's work: "The Novelist as a Teacher" There comes a time in the life of a writer that, that basket-like waste-bin is filled with crumpled papers, each page screaming "writer's block!" as they nosedive their way into the waste-bin--let's all ensure that their life be recycled for...a better nosedive tomorrow, this time screaming "9-years-old-4.5-ft-tall, brown-eyes-coloured-boy's phlegm".

Welcome dudes and dudeths! I'm honestly Soo excited to start writing a book of this caliber. Apparently this is my very first Nigerian book, yup very first. I've always had the thought of writing a book that brings awareness to some of the bad things going on in our society today, practically to all teens out there in the world, and how we can change our society at large. I honestly hope my book reaches out to people out there. Some of the things this book is going to surround on would be,

Hi guys, my name is Chime Chinonso and I’m from Enugu, Nigeria. May I know your name and where you are from Confessions Of An Exorcist is one of my best stories and you are going to enjoy it. If you haven’t seen my other work “SHADOW” please do. It is worth the read. I’m gonna blow your mind. This work is completely an imaginative one. Any character in resemblance to actual person- living or deceased is a coincidence. Every character in this book is a product of the author’s imagination.

He glances in my direction," Do you know who said that?" "Easy," I smirked," Chinua Achebe. He wrote that in 'No Longer at Ease'," I stated feeling proud at recalling the book our mother had given me and coerced me to read. I had been apprehensive about it since I wasn't much of a reader like Tim. However, that never deterred my mother from ensuring every once in a while I read some piece of literature, her excuse being," If you educate a man you educate an individual, but if you educate a woman you educate a nation," a statement I learned later on was said by Dr. Kwegyir-Aggrey.

Just books, questions, and whatever came up when people felt safe enough to speak. By the third month the group had grown to twelve. Leke was always there first camera on, mic unmuted, ready with a question before anyone else logged in. The others trickled in: a lawyer who read poetry to unwind, a nurse who quoted Baldwin between shifts, a graphic designer who sketched while they talked, a retired civil servant who’d never studied literature but wanted to now. Tonight they were on Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun. Adeyemi had asked them to come ready with one line that stayed with them.