(POV: Zara)
SS1 class heat could make a person lose the desire to remain a decent human being.
Not elegant heat. The kind that made your neck sticky, your uniform glue itself to your back, and everybody start yelling like normal speaking volume was a personal sin.
Thin Harmattan dust coated the wooden desks, and every time I moved, my elbows felt sandy. The ancient ceiling fan above us spun crookedly while making a sound:
krrrek… krrrek… krrrek…
Like it was only waiting for the right moment to fall and choose a victim. I was sitting directly underneath it. Correct place to die.
Tik.
A thick drop of black liquid—pure fan engine oil—landed directly on the back of my hand.
I froze.
Outside, distant Danfo horns screamed from the highway, competing with the chaos at the back of the classroom where two boys were arguing about football while half-standing on plastic chairs.
"Na penalty joor!"
"Penalty your father! Blind ref!"
PRAK.
A notebook flew across the room. The entire class instantly:
"EEEEHHHHH!"
No teacher.
No fear.
Civilization was slowly collapsing in front of my eyes. I was beginning to understand why some desks had prayers carved into them.
Near the window, two girls were braiding hair while gossiping with the energy of neighborhood aunties who'd just consumed espresso shots.
"Omo I swear, she carry that boy phone throway inside gutter!"
"LIE! Which gutter?!"
"She say the boy dey cheat!"
"EH-HEHHH!"
Three more heads immediately popped up to listen. I didn't even know their names yet and they had already formed a national investigation committee. Outside the classroom, a food seller near the school gate yelled dramatically:
"PUFF-PUFF! MEATPIE! BUY NOW BEFORE YOUR DESTINY SPOIL OOO!"
Half the class instinctively turned. Survival instinct, probably.
A tiny chicken casually walked through the hallway outside the classroom with the calmness of an oil company CEO. Nobody cared. One student even moved his leg aside to let the chicken pass.
I stared at everything while clutching my bag against my chest.
Three minutes.
Only three minutes.
And I already wanted to transfer schools. Or transfer countries. Or transfer dimensions entirely. Amaka—the braided girl sitting in front of me—had been glancing at me every few seconds. I knew why.
New girl.
Hoodie half over her head.
Sitting in the corner like a tax fugitive.
Suspicious.
Eventually she fully turned around and offered me a pack of plantain chips.
"You dey always quiet like this?"
I shrugged lightly.
"Depends."
"Depends on wetin?"
"Environment."
Bose—the girl beside her who'd been writing while frowning like a government auditor—immediately replied without even lifting her head.
"She mean she still dey check if our brain complete."
I stayed silent for two seconds.
"…so far? Evidence dey strong."
Amaka instantly exploded laughing.
"OMO I LIKE THI—"
The generator engine from the building next door suddenly roared to life, flooding the room with violent mechanical noise that murdered all remaining air circulation.
Amaka stopped laughing mid-sentence, mouth still open while her voice got swallowed by industrial pollution.
We all waited for the generator to stabilize into its annoying humming rhythm. The second the noise lowered a little, Amaka continued her sentence like nothing had happened:
"—IS GIRL! Better pray Tunde no sit near you."
My stomach instantly turned cold.
"…who's Tunde?"
Amaka and Bose exchanged a glance. Then simultaneously:
"Problem."
"Tunde is why God created earplugs," Amaka added with genuine concern on her face.
Then the classroom door opened.
BRAK.
The entire class transformed like a WiFi router that had just been restarted.
***
The teacher walked in carrying a thick blue folder under his arm. Tall. His shirt was ironed so perfectly it almost looked illegal for weather this hot. His black shoes clicked softly with every step.
Tak.
Tak.
Tak.
A small name tag hung on his chest:
ADEBAYO
He stopped in front of the class. Nobody spoke. One minute ago this room was one bad decision away from becoming a night market.
Now it was quieter than an ICU ward.
The boys who'd been arguing about football immediately sat straight with their hands folded on the desk like model students. The kid who'd been sleeping hurriedly opened a book upside down, wiped drool off his face, then continued reading the upside-down book with confidence. Even the chicken outside the window quietly left the hallway.
I glanced toward Amaka.
"…he scary?"
Amaka leaned closer without taking her eyes off the tall man.
"If Adebayo sir remove him glasses before second period… just start praying."
Bose nodded, voice cold as ice.
"Last week, one boy cry till him senior brother follow him come school."
I looked back at the teacher. He still stood calmly while opening the folder. Several old university stickers were attached to the surface—some faded with age. I caught a few words:
UNIVERSITY OF IBADAN
OAU
ACADEMIC STAFF CONFERENCE
Okay. Suddenly I felt like I should study harder. His gaze slowly swept across the room. Cold. Then stopped directly on me.
"You."
His finger moved slightly.
"New student?"
My stomach immediately dropped. I stood slowly.
"Yes, sir."
"Come. Introduce yourself."
I walked to the front of the classroom while holding my breath. The floor felt slightly sticky. I decided I did not want to know why. My shoes clicked softly with every step.
Tak.
Tak.
Tak.
The whole class watched. I could feel the heat of the old fan spinning directly above my head. The thick blue folder in Mr. Adebayo's hand opened slowly.
"Introduce yourself," he said shortly.
I stood beside his desk, hands buried inside my hoodie pockets, trying to disappear into fabric.
Okay.
Quick.
Short.
Then sit back down.
Finished. That was my plan. I took a small breath.
"My name is Zara Oluwadamilola. I just moved here because my father got transferred and I—"
Then my eyes lifted. And the world immediately slowed down. In the middle row, I saw him.
One of the boys from that cursed trio.
Sitting sideways. The second he saw me, his body slowly straightened. His back became rigid. His eyes widened. I froze for half a second. So did he. The classroom suddenly felt way too quiet. I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Reflex.
That tiny movement alone immediately made the boy tense up too. The hand that had been casually resting on the desk slowly lowered onto his knee. His posture became perfectly straight. I looked away quickly.
Don't look at him.
Don't panic.
Keep talking.
"—I'm not really good with new places, so…"
Tok.
Without realizing it, my finger tapped lightly against my hoodie sleeve. The boy immediately lifted his chin. His face looked horrifyingly impressed. Then he nodded slowly.
Seriously.
Too seriously.
I stopped speaking. He stopped moving too. I inhaled shortly through my nose, trying to stay calm. The boy slowly nodded again. I stared back at him. My forehead started wrinkling on its own.
Why he dey nod? Omo… WTF. WHY THIS BOY DEY NOD?!
And somehow the terrifying part was—
he nodded again.
This time with even more conviction. Like a man receiving spiritual confirmation from the heavens.
I could already see Amaka lowering her head onto her desk, shoulders shaking violently. Bose had fully covered her mouth using a thick Geography textbook.
OH NO.
Mr. Adebayo still hadn't noticed anything. He was too busy checking the folder.
"So, Zara…" he said while flipping a page.
"You like this school so far?"
I opened my mouth. And at the exact same moment—the boy suddenly stood up.
BRAAAK!!
His chair flew backward. The whole class jumped. Someone dropped a water bottle. The old fan:
Krrrek—
The boy stood upright like he had just received divine revelation. His chest rose and fell dramatically. Then with a deep baritone voice powerful enough to shake window glass:
"SHE TOO HUMBLE, SIR!!"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Mr. Adebayo slowly—very slowly—lifted his head. His glasses slid slightly down the bridge of his nose. I closed my eyes.
No.
Nooo.
Nooooo!!
The boy pointed at me with a trembling finger full of emotional sincerity.
"Sir, this girl—she dey observe exits since she enter!"
"SHUT UP, TUNDE," Mr. Adebayo barked.
Oh. So this was Tunde.
Tunde immediately shut up. But his eyes were still sparkling while staring at me like a Boy Scout who had just discovered a tiger capable of playing piano.
Amaka was now fully face-down on the desk making tiny dying squeak noises. Bose had completely abandoned her attempt to act normal and was massaging her temples in spiritual exhaustion.
The entire class looked at:
MeTunde then back at me again
Mr. Adebayo slowly removed his glasses.
"…What," he said sharply,
"…exactly happened before this girl entered my class?"
At that exact moment, I wanted to bury Tunde alive beneath the basketball court.
No evidence.
No witness.
Finish.
To be continued…