In a short amount of time, I completed my preparations, dressed in a blue patterned "atamfa" with red streaks, and paired it with a red scarf adorned with numerous stones. I grabbed my red handbag and wore red shoes, as the red color complemented my dark skin tone, making me look exceptionally beautiful.
I glanced at the clock in our room and quickly widened my eyes, exhaling deeply. I hurriedly grabbed my lesson plan and headed out, almost jogging, as I noticed time was running out and I didn't want to be late for the school where I teach.
At the door, I encountered Anisa, my third younger sister, who was busy on the phone, likely talking to her boyfriend since she kept batting her eyelashes and speaking softly. Upon seeing me, she quickly stood up, almost dropping her phone, and said, "Yaya Humairah, are you leaving already?" While walking and putting on my watch, I replied, "Yes, Anisa, I'll be back later. Where is Aunty?" "She's in Baffa Karami's section, looking at Sadiya's bridal gifts," she replied. "Okay, tell her I went to school, but I've left the shopping money on top of her dresser," I told her. "Alright, Aunty. May Allah protect you on your way," she said. I silently responded with "Amin" under my breath and headed out.
I barely managed to find transportation to the Ciranci neighborhood, where the school I teach at is located, just a short distance away. The school is a private institution with strict policies against lateness, and they might consider firing you if you're late. That's why I make every effort to maintain my reputation with the school owner and avoid being reprimanded as I've seen happen to other staff members, though it has never happened to me since I'm always punctual.
Despite this, I didn't arrive until around nine in the morning. Quickly, I pulled out fifty naira from my bag and handed it to the motorbike rider before heading towards the school gate with enthusiasm.
At the office where we sign in, I stopped, took a pen from my bag, and entered the office. I hurriedly pulled the signing book from the table and signed my name. As I finished, I looked up and made eye contact with the English teacher, who greeted me cheerfully, "Oh, it's Humairah today. How come you're late? I hope everything is okay?" I forced a smile and said, "I was just running late, I'll head to the classroom now," I replied while putting my pen back and heading to the classroom where I teach Social Studies.
My students greeted me respectfully as I placed my bag on the table and started checking their assignments. I spent about ten minutes doing this before moving back to my seat, as the school's system requires one teacher per class. During this time, I noticed the messenger who works in the headmistress's office running towards my classroom, nervously greeting me.
I approached him politely and greeted him back, then asked, "Messenger, is everything alright?" "Yes, everything is fine. The headmistress wants to see you," he replied. "Me?" I asked, pointing to myself in surprise, widening my eyes. "Yes, you. Are you not Teacher Humairah Yusuf of Primary One?" he asked, looking at me. "Yes, that's me. Tell her I'm coming," I responded. He quickly turned and left, while I went back into the classroom to grab my phone, leaving my bag behind, and headed towards the headmistress's office.