Who tells your story?

I definitely know who tells mine because every night I face the wall sharing how my days went. When you don't have a companion or when the pain is too much to hold, such things do happen. But for me, I followed the adage that walls have ears but I knew that my next door neighbor is the wall. He might have seen it as a disturbance but when sorrow filled me to the brink, it definitely required an outlet. Notwithstanding, it was just my little crush on him that made me sprout it out thinking he would notice me but that was me deceiving myself, 'cause I heard my landlord saying the walls were sound proof. 

Who tells my story? 
I can beat my chest that those days when I was still in my village, that it was mama knows it all
" The gossip mongers". Probably, because the woman did not have any job and to prevent boredom she stuck her...