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To all mothers, we say thank you

DebbieSylvex:
nice story u gat here

Thanks.

Tiana06:
50 Percent Mine Series #1

THE HELP
Sometimes love seems so wrong, but can you tell your heart whom to fall in love with? The boss' son and the help don't fall in love; they fell in love and she is going to kiss and tell. Things can go very good or they can go very bad. Can she compete with the boss' son girlfriend who is way out of her league? An amazing romance, with enough drama and suspense to keep you spellbound.

CHAPTER SIX

Once inside my room, I made a quick one to the mirror. I was curious to see what Derele saw in me to make him kiss me. For the life of me I could not grasp why someone like him can be into someone like me. I stare back at myself at the mirror and could not recognize who I saw. When did I transform into this smashing figure staring back at me? Where was the lanky broad-chested girl? She was now replaced with a tall model shaped exquisite beauty. Her dark skin was toned to a chocolate complexion. Her face had a new maturity and glow to it. It had to be the hair because I was really looking slaying. No wonder Derele was lost.
I absently traced my lips remembering the kiss. I don’t know if I am to feel happy or scared; this is all too new to me and forbidden. Or how do a nineteen year old deal with a man in his mid twenties? I haven’t stopped shivering since I entered the room. All afternoon and later that evening I avoided the sitting room and the compound all together peradventure I had to come across Derele.


Derele’s flight was in the morning of the next day and being his first business trip, Madam and her husband were up early to see him off which implied everyone was to be up and doing. I was to serve breakfast at table. Derele looks restless and distracted with dark circles around his eyes. That makes the two of us because I could not get any sleep until the early hours of the morning. I remember tossing and turning ruminating on our shared kiss.
After breakfast, we all went outside to bid him goodbye. Madam was all mushy-mushy on him.
“Dele dear, you make sure you call your dad and me every day to brief us on happenings. Now don’t be like your father who is carried away when he is on those marathon indoor meetings and forgets he has a family back home.”
I just wish I had a minute with him to assure him I would be waiting for him, that I love him too and would miss him dearly. His mother hugged him tightly and I wished that was me. He proceeded to hug his father; Sisimi was at the porch with chef while I assisted the driver with his baggage. He waved at the two in the porch and when I least expected it turned and gave me a hug. It must have looked harmless to the others looking on but Derele and I both know it for what it was. It was an assurance, an unspoken promise of a beautiful beginning we ourselves couldn’t define. I know I would miss him dearly and that our hug would keep me till he returns from Kenya.


The new week was a drag; everyone knew the house was incomplete without Derele in it. Apart from Chef and Sisimi’s drama, there was nothing eventful around the house. Madam finally allowed Sisimi cook her local delicacies in the evenings; obviously Mr Kumuyi favoured her cooking and chef was not happy about the turn of event. It was literally a struggle for power between the two of them.
In the nights I would toss and turn thinking of Derele and how much longer before we reunite; also about the hug and kiss. In the day, I would daydream even get lost during classes and that was if I had not fallen asleep during such a class. The late nights and daydreaming was tasking. My time spent laundering and cleaning in the evenings also doubled as I would often get lost in my thoughts in the confines of the laundry room and completely lose track of time.
I was just all too happy one bright afternoon when I got back from the university and chef happily tells me Derele is back. This is his official claim to the kitchen seeing the intercontinental cuisine fan is back; hmmm, different stroke for different folks.

Bam17:
Okay, ma'am
Oh, and you can also check mine. You'd love them, I bet

I already did, are you published too, I will like to read full copies though.

Bam17:
I love your works, ma'am. Anticipating JUST US

Thank you @Bam17

You can support my work by reading copies of my eBooks on the okadabooks platform.

Tiana06:


Colours in your Lines is a beautiful collection of free verse, lyrics and narrative poetry having powerful themes of love and life lessons beautifully written to enchant the soul.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQXtMhjh3MY

New cover eBook alert.

SPECIAL VALENTINE EBOOK RELEASE ON THE 13TH FEBRUARY 2022.

Tiana06:
50 Percent Mine Series #1

THE HELP
Sometimes love seems so wrong, but can you tell your heart whom to fall in love with? The boss' son and the help don't fall in love; they fell in love and she is going to kiss and tell. Things can go very good or they can go very bad. Can she compete with the boss' son girlfriend who is way out of her league? An amazing romance, with enough drama and suspense to keep you spellbound.

CHAPTER FIVE

It is a week today since I drove to school in Derele’s SUV. You guessed right that I avoided him in the weekdays that followed the eventful Friday ride. Typical of him, he disappeared in the evening of that Friday for the weekend. I remember watching him from the window of my room as he loads his things into the boot of his sport car. Next I see him focusing his I-phone camera around him; then I know he is face-timing Miss Toke and she is having a tantrum as usual.

She is usually like that, wants to keep tabs on him like a watchdog. I can imagine her saying: “No, you aren’t in the mansion, in it? Lemme see the water fountain.” Or, “what car are you driving? I’m so picking the car you are riding in. Lemme see what you are wearing so I can choose the car that goes with it.” I just hope he knows what he is getting himself into; from frying pan to fire. If his mother is crowding him then his girlfriend is a circus.

Which begs the question where does that leave me? Maybe I am the watchdog. For instance, I know he leaves the house at 6:45 every morning for work. Course cleared, that is when I leave my room for breakfast before I go to the university. In the evenings, I don’t see him at all because I am either laundering or cleaning. This reminds me I have to get to the store for some air fresheners. Quickly, I changed from my work clothes to a leggings and my sweater using the hood to cover my hair. Okay, I finally loose my braids and since I couldn’t run a comb through it, I leave it to run wild.





The supermarket was quite busy; I squeeze my way to the household section and decided attempting a new fragrance of air freshener. So I am snuffling different sample and I sniff Derele’s cologne in the air. I am still reprimanding myself for being a pervert when someone removes my hood. I am on auto reflex to cover my unkempt hair as I turned to face what I dread, Derele.

“Good evening sir.”

“Hey! Are you hiding from someone?” He is looking down the aisle.

“Are you avoiding me?” I don’t know why I said that. I quickly retracted, “you leave before I leave my room in the mornings.”

“Really?” He makes a disbelieving all-knowing face.

I have to change the topic, “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged his shoulder indicating that the answer was obvious. I turned to continue snuffling the air fresheners; he too picked up some fragrance and we compared samples. I dissed him about his cologne and how it was a giveaway for his presence. He retaliated to say I always smell like detergent and he could pick my smell anywhere.

Later as we walked to the mansion, he asked, “What are you doing Saturday?”

“I am making my hair.”

“Good, can I come with you?” To my low cost salon, no freaking way. Then, “or you want me to take you; I know a place.”

“If you are paying, am going.”

“Very well then, don’t keep me waiting, 10am.” Works for me, the Kumuyi’s were going to this wedding ceremony.

We parted ways at the gate. I walked straight to the house while he went to the car port to speak with Aliyu, the driver washing the white SUV car Mr and Mrs Kumuyi were taking to the wedding.



Saturday morning, I picked my cloth carefully. After much scrutiny I settled for the same outfit I wore yesterday to the store. I would be able to cover my hair and at the same time it made me look like I didn’t make an effort seeing we are not on a date or something. And it definitely didn’t make me look like anyone’s little sister.

He is already beside his sport car when I got outside, the hood of the car down. He is wearing casual jeans and a different t-shirt from yesterday’s and also has on a sunglass. The very moment he sees me as I approach him, I knew because even though I don’t see his expression due to his sunglass, he shudders slightly. I quickly looked away.

He said, “now are you on time because you don’t have any shady makeup on.” I gave him the pleasure of making that pass.

In the car, I am pressing my phone because I am pretty nervous and I feel really emaciated in this classy car and beside Derele. Besides, am not supposed to be frolicking with the boss’ son. Am I? So we drove in silence until he parked in a salon. There was nothing special that happened because I go to the female section and he went to have a cut at the barber’s. Only that, my hair was done in forty-five minutes and that is a quarter of the time I would have used in my hair dresser’s place for the same hair style.

Another special thing happened on our ride back also. As we sipped the drink he brought from the salon bar, he says “am travelling tomorrow.”

And it all made sense. “Is that why you are around this weekend?” I pointed an accusing finger at him.

“What?”

“Why do you leave every weekend?” I said instead.

“Ooh someone misses me.” I just rolled my eyes. I gathered he was going to be travelling a lot and finally he would be occupying his father’s position in the company. He was going to Kenya for a summit and would probably return to the country the following week.

As we got to the mansion, I am releasing my seatbelt when he said; “wait, I paid for your hair how come I don’t get to see it.” I removed my hood and he takes a good look at me.

At some point on our drive back, the car hood is back and as he stared at me I was oddly warm despite the full blast AC. I was making a quick dash for the door as I looked at him to ask his permission to leave.

“Can I…” My voice came out coarse as a quick shiver ran through me.

He leaned in and kissed me full on the lip. A quick brush and he was done. As I recovered, I was on frantic mode as I look around me at the compound.

“The car is tinted.” He said as he brushed his hand on his imaginary hair. I made a dash for the door and practically walk-run to the house.

READ THE FULL EBOOK ON OKADABOOKS https://okadabooks.com/user/Tiana-s_diary

Tiana06:
MEET THE QUESTIONNAIRE FACE TO FACE
Background
I do not quite remember what influence this write up. But when you grow up with a pathological liar, a skimming fri-enemy. One of these days, you just pen something random.

Poem
Have you ever been in a situation where you’re in a fix?
And you need your next fix,
But God forbid it you come all out in the jinx –
“I am the culprit in this play of gimmicks.”

You just wanted to let it all out and make it formal.
Yet you won’t mind being non-ethical.
“What’s your take on the matter Veronica? –
A friend of mine did something abnormal.”

Your listener is the ultimate hunted.
Because you know you’re playing on her intelligence;
Either way, you are covered.
Unless she is as smart as I am and your smart ass is cornered –
Hypothetical becomes you.

Poem Syntax

Line 1-4

Pathological liar
Some of the symptoms of a pathological liar are: they lie to gain something, they exaggerate things, they keep on changing their stories, and they live in a false sense of ‘reality. ‘
Line 5-8
Identify theft
Identity theft and identity fraud are terms used to refer to all types of crime in which someone wrongfully obtains and uses another person's personal data in some way that involves fraud or deception, typically for economic gain.
Line 9-13
Discerning
To be discerning is to be able to tell things apart—to separate them, even when they appear to be very similar. People who are discerning are able to make keen observations about things. A person with a discerning palate may be able to discern flavours that others cannot.

READ THE COMPLETE EBOOK COLLECTION OF MY POETRY ON OKADABOOKS https://okadabooks.com/user/Tiana-s_diary