The Untainted
Chapter Three
The classroom was unusually quiet that morning — at least for the first fifteen minutes.
Rihannat sat upright in her usual seat, pen moving steadily across her notebook. She didn't just copy notes; she processed them. When something wasn't clear, she raised her hand calmly.
"Sir, please can you explain that last point again?" she asked.
The lecturer adjusted his glasses and nodded. "Good question."
She listened attentively, jotting down clarifications. For Rihannat, lectures were not just attendance — they were investments. Every point mattered. Every mark counted. First class was not a wish; it was a goal.
After almost two hours, the lecturer closed his file with a firm snap.
"Submit your projects tomorrow," he announced, scanning the class. "You've had enough time. Failure to submit tomorrow means automatic penalty. I will not repeat myself."
A few uneasy murmurs filled the room.
"Everyone should submit to the class president," he continued. "The assistant should assist him this time. I don't want stories about not seeing the president or whatever excuse you people like to manufacture."
Then his eyes shifted.
"Rihannat. Basit."
Both of them straightened slightly.
"You two will bring everything to me by tomorrow afternoon. I won't be in school in the evening."
"Yes, sir," they responded.
The professor walked out.
And within seconds, the classroom exploded.
"Oh my God, I'm not done!"
"Please, let me see yours! I'm halfway!"
"No way! I haven't completed mine too!"
"You're not a good friend!"
Arguments sparked. Voices overlapped. Chairs scraped noisily across the floor. Some students frantically opened laptops. Others began pleading with those who looked calm enough to have finished.
Panic had officially entered the building.
Basit barely had time to stand before he was surrounded.
"President, abeg help us now."
"Just tell sir we submitted."
"I can transfer something small to your account…"
A few girls leaned closer than necessary.
"Basit, you know you can't disappoint me…"
He sighed internally.
Across the room, Rihannat wasn't spared either. Though people didn't crowd her physically, the noise pressed against her head. The chaos irritated her. Deadlines were not new. Why wait till the last minute?
She lifted her head and caught sight of Basit skillfully weaving through the crowd toward the door. As he passed her row, he gave a subtle signal — a slight tilt of his head.
Let's leave.
Rihannat understood immediately.
She picked up her bag, placed her phone to her ear as if on a call, and walked out gracefully.
Behind them, the class descended into full helter-skelter. Some students were still unserious, laughing despite the threat. Others looked like they might cry.
Everyone knew the professor was strict.
His deadlines were law.
The next day, Rihannat and Basit sat together in an empty lecture hall as agreed. A pile of projects rested between them.
Students trickled in one by one.
Some submitted neatly bound, complete works.
Some dropped half-done projects with guilty smiles.
Some didn't show up at all.
And some attempted what they thought was strategy.
"Please, just tell sir I was sick."
"I'll complete it tonight, I promise."
"You know he listens to you people…"
Rihannat exchanged a look with Basit for the umpteenth time and sighed softly.
Integrity wasn't something you switched on and off.
When the last student left, she turned to him again.
"Say your mind, beauty," Basit teased lightly. "Stop looking at me like you're in love with my beautiful face."
Rihannat blinked.
Then she laughed — genuinely.
"Stop giving yourself honey mixed with sugar."
He grinned.
"I was just wondering," she continued, folding her arms, "why you keep refusing their stretched olive branches. The ladies, I mean."
"Why should I accept?" he asked calmly.
She studied him. He knew exactly why she had been observing him. He just wanted to see if she would admit it.
"Aren't you impressed? I mean… a lot of girls are trying to get your attention."
Basit leaned back slightly.
"Why should I look twice at people who are ready to throw themselves at anything that shines?" he said evenly. "Most of them are not serious about their studies. Always searching for shortcuts. Do I look like someone who wants that?"
Rihannat held his gaze.
Clear eyes. No arrogance.
"But you're always gentle with them," she said. "You don't embarrass them."
"I can't be harsh," he replied. "I'm not their parent. We don't have business. They chose their lifestyle. Why should I fight them? And I definitely don't want boyfriends showing up to accuse me of nonsense. My peaceful life is important, beautiful."
"Stop calling me that."
"Why? Are you not?"
"No. I. Am. Not." she emphasized, looking away.
"But. You. Are." he replied, stretching the words with a mischievous grin.
She shook her head and turned away.
"Suit yourself."
He checked the time.
"It's over an hour. Let's go."
They gathered the projects and headed to the professor's office. On their way, two breathless students ran after them.
"Wait! Please take this!"
Basit collected the papers without comment.
By 3:30 p.m., they were done at the professor's office.
Instead of rushing off, they both headed toward the school masjid. After observing Asr prayer quietly, they stepped outside into the soft afternoon light.
"Do you have any lectures left?" Basit asked.
"No. You?"
"No."
"So you're heading home?" he continued.
"Yes. My friends left earlier. They had assignments to complete. I've done mine already," she added with a playful shrug. "I can't ask them to wait for me again, can I?"
"No, you can't," he said, smiling. "Let me walk you to the gate."
"No. Your admirers will start a meeting."
"No admirers," he dismissed. "And don't you have your own? See who dey talk. If you know how many people dey eye you for this campus, you go beg me make I no follow you."
She burst into laughter.
"You exaggerate."
"Do I?"
They walked side by side, maintaining respectful distance. Their conversation stayed within safe territory — academics, internships, exams, future goals.
No inappropriate words.
No careless closeness.
Just peace.
When they reached the school gate, they slowed down slightly.
It felt… comfortable.
Then suddenly—
"Excuse me."
They both turned.
A tall, confident-looking student stood before them.
"Can I have your number?" he asked directly, looking at Rihannat. "I'd like us to be friends."
Silence.
The air shifted.
Basit's expression changed almost invisibly.
Rihannat looked at the stranger calmly.
Her answer would either end the moment — or begin something unexpected.
Basit watch her calmly but his heart already know the answer. And not disappointing him she rejected.
No. It was firm.
Don't stop me or ask me for it again-- she added before leaving the guy standing alone.
She walks away with basit following her tail. Basit felt sorry for the poor guy but also happy as she refused. Such an hypocrite, he thought to himself.
How do I ask her to give me her number now when she is already rejecting someone in my presence! Another issue for basit who thought it would be easy for him today!
**********
@Olukoya Zainab
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