Chapter Two Secondary School Chaos

 HADIZA 

Chapter Two

Secondary School Chaos

All this while, we were still secondary school students, struggling to understand life, trying to find our place in a world that already had its rules. But our life didn’t stop there. Throughout secondary school, we had developed a routine that nobody could guess: sneaking out from school when we wanted, skipping classes without a trace, or hiding an extra set of clothes at the back, ready to change into when it suited us. While other students trudged home or back to school in their uniforms, we followed them, carefully dressed in our school attire, giving the perfect illusion that we were diligent students.

It was on a Friday, and the sun was unusually bright, laughing at our little schemes as we sprinted along the dusty street. We were halfway to a party when the school principal, Mr. Adekunle, suddenly appeared.

“Where are you girls going?” he demanded, his voice sharp and slicing through the laughter that had been filling the air.

We froze mid-step. Our stomachs twisted, because Mr. Adekunle knew the kind of girls we were. He knew our reputation as the “club gang.”

Khadija whispered under her breath, “Oh no… this is bad. Very bad.”

Hafsa pulled at my arm. “Hadiza, we’re caught!”

Jumai’s face turned pale. “Caught? By him? We’re done for!”

Zainab, our ever-clever Zee Baby, simply stopped walking, tilted her head, and gave him a calm smile. She stepped forward, letting her presence speak before her words did.

Mr. Adekunle looked at us with suspicion, his eyes narrowing. “I saw you girls leaving school. This is a school day. Why are you not in class?”

Zainab raised her hand slightly, tilting her head in the most innocent way possible. “Sir… we were… um… just going to… talk about some school project? You know, group work?”

Mr. Adekunle squinted, unconvinced. “Group work? On the street? You girls think I’m a fool?”

Zainab’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. She stepped closer. “Sir… I understand how you feel. But, sir… please, hear me out. We are very sorry. Truly. But maybe… sir can forgive us this once?”

I exchanged nervous glances with Khadija. “Zee Baby… don’t do anything stupid…”

Zainab winked at me. “Relax. Watch and learn.”

Mr. Adekunle’s eyes softened, just a little, as he looked at Zainab. She had mastered the art of appearing respectful yet irresistible, and it worked.

“Hmm…” he said slowly, “I might forgive… if we talk about this… somewhere more private.”

Khadija gasped quietly. “Oh no, she’s going to the hotel with him… I just know it.”

Hafsa whispered, “Zainab, don’t let him take advantage of you!”

Zainab shook her head, a sly smile on her lips. “Relax, girls. I’ve got this. Just wait.”

By the end of the day, Zainab returned to us, her steps confident, a mischievous spark in her eyes.

“Girls,” she began, leaning against a wall, “you will not believe what just happened.”

Khadija groaned. “I bet it’s exactly what I think it is. Don’t tell me—”

Zainab raised her hand, shushing her. “No, no, no. Listen. He invited me to a hotel. Can you imagine? The principal, sir serious himself! And he’s promising forgiveness… in exchange for loyalty.”

Hafsa’s jaw dropped. “Loyalty? Zee Baby, what did you say?”

Zainab laughed softly, tossing her hair. “I didn’t just say anything. I handled him. Cleverly. I told him… if he wants loyalty, he has to… help me and my friends instead.”

Jumai blinked. “Help… us? How?”

Zainab leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. “I made him promise to support us… school fees, uniforms, exam tips… as long as we stay loyal to our… terms.” She smirked. “Isn’t that genius?”

Khadija shook her head, laughing and crying at the same time. “Zee Baby! Only you could turn a situation like that around. The principal… our principal… helping us?”

Hafsa giggled nervously. “I can’t believe it. But… wait… you actually convinced him?”

Zainab nodded proudly. “Every word. I made him think he was getting what he wanted, you always know what men wanted, they just wanted to see what is beneath You… but in reality… he’s just helping us, and we’re still free to do as we like. That’s how you handle men, girls. Always with brains and charm.”

We all erupted into laughter, a mixture of relief, disbelief, and admiration for Zainab’s audacity.

“Tell us everything!” Khadija demanded.

Zainab grinned. “Okay… so I walked into the hotel room, heart racing, palms sweaty. I played the role of the respectful student, eyes down, voice soft. He started talking… praising me, asking for forgiveness… I nodded, smiled, but never let him forget—he had to follow my rules. Every promise he made, then as expected he demanded to sleep with me, and he'll grant us our freedom. I recorded in my mind. And the needful was done, Then I left.”

Hafsa leaned back, laughing. “Zee Baby… I swear, you’re like a magician! Turning danger into advantage!”

Jumai shook her head. “Honestly… I think I love you more now. Not that I didn’t before.”

Khadija groaned dramatically. “I can’t believe it… Our life… from sneaking out of school to… dealing with the principal… It’s insane!”

Zainab leaned back, smirking. “Insane, yes. But girls, that’s life. And in life… you either control it, or it controls you. Today, I controlled the principal. Tomorrow… who knows?”

We laughed again, the kind of laughter that hides worry, the kind that pretends we’re invincible. But underneath, we all knew… our life, our freedom, was a dangerous game. And Zee Baby… she had just shown us how to play it.

The following week, school life continued as usual. Or as usual as it could be for us. Some days we managed to attend classes; other days, we changed in hidden corners and escaped to the streets, laughing at how easy it was to outsmart the teachers.

One afternoon, while sitting under the mango tree behind the school, we reminisced about what had happened.

“Honestly,” Khadija said, twirling her braid, “I can’t stop thinking about how you just… handled him, Zainab. You could have gotten us all in serious trouble.”

Zainab smirked. “I didn’t handle him just for me. I handled him for all of us. Remember, girls… brains first, charm second.”

Hafsa chuckled. “Brains first? I think you mean charm only.”

Jumai laughed, kicking at the dirt. “Seriously… I can’t wait to see what else you’ll do next. You’re like… a boss in our gang, Zee Baby. The queen.”

Zainab bowed dramatically. “I accept my crown, ladies. But remember… the crown is heavy. With great power comes… great responsibility.”

We all laughed so hard that passersby gave us weird looks. But we didn’t care. This was our life, our rules, our chaos.

And deep down, we all knew that every clever move, every joke, every narrow escape… was shaping who we were and who we would eventually become.

We spent the rest of the term juggling school and our escapades. Friday nights were for fun, sneaking out, and making sure our reputation as the infamous girls never faded.

Zainab remained the leader, the cleverest of us all. Every time a teacher tried to question us, every time someone tried to catch us in our little schemes, she had a plan. And somehow… she always came out on top, leaving the rest of us in awe, laughing, and slightly terrified of her brilliance.

By the end of the year, we had survived detentions, angry teachers, suspicious parents, and the cunning games of the principal himself. But we were still together, still laughing, still running our lives in the reckless way only we knew how.

And as we walked back home one bright Friday afternoon, Khadija nudged me and said, “Hadiza… do you ever wonder… how long we can keep this up?”

I looked at her, then at the others. Zainab was striding ahead, confident as ever, her smile teasing the sun.

I shrugged. “Until life catches up with us… or until we’re ready to fall.”

Zainab turned, winking. “Then let it try. Because as long as I’m around, we’re untouchable.”

And with that, we disappeared into the streets, having sex with different people, going to club's, drinking, laughing, alive, and untouchable—for now.

The story is just beginning, this is exactly how our young ladies ruin their life on the street.

To Be Continue inshallah..... 

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©AHMAD ZAHIR ENAGI ABU KHALIF