The driver pulled up to the school gates and came to a complete stop. Dauda, the orderly, came out from the front passenger door and opened my rear door. I stepped out of the official car and took my backpack from the backseat. My father was out of the country on an official visit to Australia, and my mother was in Dubai at a Women’s Conference. As a result of my father’s leadership position in society, we were constantly monitored and could not leave the house without an orderly due to his political opponents or enemies he had made during his tenure in office.
I walked towards the science block, where my first period, chemistry, was currently being held. My teacher, Mrs. Okeke, was a petite, light-skinned lady with short, silky hair. She also had sideburns and was rather hairy, showing signs of growing a mustache. She even had some fuzzy hair above her breasts, which became visible when she wore blouses with plunging necklines. She was very strict, with a rather shrill voice that I found irritating. She stood in front of the blackboard teaching the class.
I hesitantly walked in quietly and briskly to my seat, but not without my classmates staring at me.
“Jamila, why are you late?” she asked in a loud voice. I could not hide my embarrassment as the pairs of eyes sitting in the chairs were staring at me, waiting for the…
