Hi guys, as you all must have noticed, I didn't reply comments in the previous chapter. I didn't have enough network (You all know how it is😫😩) I'll make an effort to reply as they come in this week.
So, please. COMMENT and VOTE. It would mean a lot to know what you think.
"I got fifty thousand from the sayen baki, I'll just add it to the hundred maama is giving me to buy stuff to resume school." I laugh at loud at the incredulity in Safiyya's voice. She says she's never had more than five thousand.
"What are the important things on the list?" She needs to buy new clothes and few other things that are compulsory.
"I need to buy a dummy for fashion class, you know those ones they use to display clothes in malls. I also need to buy one neater sewing machine. Its fifty five thousand." I sigh and add fifty five thousand to the amount I wanted to give her.
"I'm thankful for that money I received sef, its what is going to help me buy the machine. I was hoping to sell my butterfly machine to buy it. If I use it to sew clothes for you, Ya Affy, you won't know it isn't store bought." I smile at her enthusiasm, I was right, fashion school would be good for her skills.
"So, what have you bought from the list? September isn't so far away anymore." Her mother has issued an order that I don't give her money to buy clothes.
"I bought different materials, I'll start sewing the clothes for my wardrobe on monday. I'm planning all the styles I want them in." I wish her the best and end the call. Safiyya is growing so quickly.
My phone rings again and I pick it with trepidation.
"It's still impending?"
I sigh loudly after asking my lawyer, he begins explaining how things could go if I don't move from this plaza soon.
" They can't be bribed or talked to. You just have to wait till investigation is over to get your business space back." I leaned back in my chair and screamed inwardly. I've been calling around, no bank wants to lend a makeup artist money, I have too much pride to ask my father or Adeel.
" Thank you Barrister Babasanya. I'm grateful." I end the terse call. It takes all of my will power for tears not to flow down my cheeks. Its Thursday morning and I've been calling around since Monday to find funds to help my savings.
My phone rings again and I dash to pick it up, its my accounting officer. "Chinenye, what was his reply?" She'd gone to talk to the branch manager about my loan to help my situation.
She sighs before speaking " Nabeela, he's being strong headed, he says Makeup artistry isn't something he can defend its loan." A tear runs down my left cheek and I swipe it away furiously.
"Did you tell him that my turnover last year was fifteen million naira, that I have offers from five big makeup brands to market their makeup in northern Nigeria? Does he know?" I shout in anger, I'm one of the most successful makeup artists, I have small flagship stores in four different states. Why then won't they help my business grow?
"In my opinion, I think you should ask either your husband or father, seventy million isn't too much for them. Especially your husband who's opening an Islamic bank in Abuja early next year with Muadh Dikko." I hiss lightly and end the call. She doesn't understand, she has no idea how much pride I have in me. I built my business without the help of my father, how can I ask a man who didn't believe in my dreams for money. Or the man I just married a few days ago, in what light would he see me?
Ya Allah. I need your help.
When I drive into the plaza thirty minutes later, I meet my neighbor in the underground car park. She's a fashion house owner, "House of Zahara". She swings towards me in a powder blue jumpsuit gown that accentuates her beautiful body.
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ChickLitNabeela has never had life easy, never ever. She is at her wits end. Love and living life has never been her known forte. But, what will she do when she gets tangled in a web of deceit and lies woven by her parents? What happens when the very ones...
