ACTS FOUR
Later in the evening
(Hazeemah gets off the bike, heads into the house, and locks the door behind her. She removes her khimar, socks, and gloves, then walks straight to her room. She tosses her bag onto the bed and collapses beside it.)
Hazeemah: (sighs heavily) Alhamdulillah, ya Allah... But come to think of it, this is going to be a tough task, spending even a minute with that idiot... Can you imagine what he said to me?
(Flashback: 40 minutes earlier)
(Hazeemah is happily heading towards the gate, about to leave the company when suddenly she is blocked by M.K.)
M.K: So, you think you won, huh? Let me make this clear—you can never, ever be my assistant! Never, ever! You think you can just embarrass me in front of everyone? You bitch!
Hazeemah: (responds politely) I’m so sorry if anything I said in the office hurt your feelings. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me. But why are you scared of employing someone like me?
M.K: Excuse me?
Hazeemah: No offense, but it seems like you’re scared—maybe you think I might harm you, or maybe you think my qualifications are too high for you to employ me... But I respect your reasons, I really do, but—
M.K: (cutting her off) What the hell are you talking about? Me, scared of a rag like you? (bursts into laughter) You must be joking...
Hazeemah: No, I’m not, sir... But you shouldn’t be afraid of my appearance.
M.K: I’d rather go back to the U.K. than spend six months staring at your ugly face all the time... Let this be the last time you set foot in this company! Is that clear?
Hazeemah: (lost in thought) Should I listen to him or challenge him a little? I can’t lose this opportunity... This is just the shaytan at work. There will always be someone who hates you for no reason... I can’t let this opportunity slip away.
M.K.: Do you hear me?!
Hazeemah: (clears her throat) I understand your concerns, Mr. M.K., and I apologize if my attire made you uncomfortable. But I want to assure you that my beliefs don’t compromise my work. In fact, they drive my passion and dedication.
If you don’t give me a chance, you’ll be missing out on a talented and hardworking individual. And I’m not just talking about myself; I’m talking about the message it sends to others. You’ll be perpetuating a stereotype that has no place in today’s society.
I’m not asking for special treatment; I’m asking for equal opportunity. And if you can’t see beyond my hijab, then I feel sorry for the company. Because you’ll be losing out on innovation, creativity, and progress.
I’m willing to work with you to address any concerns, but I won’t compromise my values. It’s time to break down barriers, not build them up.
M.K.: It’s this same confidence that drives me nuts, but since you want this job, get ready to face my wrath for the next six months... All the best, bitch. (angrily walks back into the company)
Hazeemah: A’udhu billahi min ash-shaytan ir-rajim...!
(Back to reality)
Hazeemah: He will definitely make my life miserable, or should I just abandon the job...? But the salary is so tempting... (exhales heavily) What am I going to do? I can’t lose this one... After four years, I finally got employed for the very first time. But how will I ever blend in? (Suddenly, her mother barges into her room.)
Hajia Shukroh: As-salamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi, my dear.
Hazeemah: (happily embraces her) Wa alaykumu s-salam wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh, Ummi.
Hajia Shukroh: Masha Allah, obviously this is great news. Yes or no?
Hazeemah: (happily nods) Yes! I got the job!
Hajia Shukroh: Are you serious? (gives her a warm embrace) Masha Allah, barakallahu feekum.
Hazeemah: Ameen. (a bright smile on her face)
Hajia Shukroh: Wait, are you serious, or are you just pulling my leg?
Hazeemah: I’m serious!
Hajia Shukroh: Aww, my baby, your dream has finally come true. I’m so proud of you.
Hazeemah: (suddenly lets go of her) It’s not fully true yet. The hatred for hijab is way more than I expected. In fact, I was initially rejected before I finally convinced them. But I’m worried about one thing… Can I endure the tough moments?
Hajia Shukroh: Of course you will. You’re a fighter—you’re not afraid to lose, and you’re ready to win.
Hazeemah: Are you sure?
Hajia Shukroh: Absolutely, my baby. I can’t wait to tell your father... He’s been so worried about you since you left the house.
Hazeemah: That’s true.
Hajia Shukroh: C’mon! Let’s go to the kitchen and chat about Khalid.
Hazeemah: (sighs heavily) Please don’t remind me of his name.
Hajia Shukroh: Why? What happened?
Hazeemah: Nothing! We’re good.
(Curtain)
Later in the night.
Mrs. Shola: (enters the house and sighs heavily) Ugh! What a day! My baby, I’m home.
Najat: (runs up to her) Mummyyyyyyy! (gives her a warm embrace) I missed you, Mummy.
Mrs. Shola: I missed you too, my little flower... How was school?
Najat: You know my friend Anna?
Mrs. Shola: (stylishly drops her bag to give her full attention) You mean your best friend? What happened to her?
Najat: She stopped playing with me... and... and she stopped calling me her friend.
Mrs. Shola: Aww, my baby... Don’t worry, she’ll come running back to you. So tell me, what did you have for dinner? (lifts her up as the maid accompanies them into the room with her bags)
Najat: I had pizza and ice cream.
Mrs. Shola: Really? That’s lovely... (enters the house and slams the door)
(Suddenly, M.K barges into the house.)
M.K.: Shola!! Please come out!
Mrs. Shola: (in the room) Who the hell is yelling my name like that? Go check for me.
(A few seconds later)
Maid: (whispers in her ear)
Mrs. Shola: Oh! Tell him I’m coming; he should give me a few minutes. I’ll join him soon. And make sure you give him whatever he wants. C’mon, baby girl, let’s go take a shower.
(Light fades)
Maid: Yes, ma’am.
(20 minutes later)
Mrs. Shola: (smiling) Seeing you at my house is surprising. What happened to your own house?
M.K.: I’m going to say this once. I came to have a face-to-face discussion about my decision concerning that bitch.
Mrs. Shola: (rolls her eyes) Who is it this time?
M.K.: The rag one! If Dad really wants me to help manage the company, then you need to do as I say and as I want. I don’t want this girl.
Mrs. Shola: (sits next to him) You and your anger issues... It’s high time you learned to see things on the bright side. Yes, she doesn’t fit in with us, but I believe, as time goes on, if she truly proves her abilities, then I’m sure she’ll adjust her dressing after facing lots of embarrassment.
M.K.: I don’t care about that! I just don’t want her... Email her that she failed the interview.
Mrs. Shola: (takes a deep breath) Do you think anyone can endure your madness like she can? Religious people like her can adapt to a lot of criticism. Just give her a chance... OK, just give her one month, and if you still don’t like her, then you’re free to fire her.
M.K.: (thinking) Damn! Honestly, I’ll have to deal with that? How? My friends will make fun of me...
Mrs. Shola: Don’t worry; everything will be fine. Anyway, has she served you anything?
M.K.: I’m not here to eat. If I was hungry, I’d know where to go. You’re just pissing me off... I’m out of here.
(He furiously exits the house, slamming the door behind him.)
Mrs. Shola: M.K.! Wherever he goes, trouble follows. I know that girl won’t last a month under him. But that’s life’s challenge. Back to my own life... I better get packing. Setting my eyes on that devil gives me goosebumps.
(Suddenly, Mr. Oyegbami storms into the house.)
Mrs. Shola: Speaking of the devil...
(She picks up her car key and makes a stylish exit.)
Mr. Oyegbami: (hissing) Like I give a damn about you.
Mrs. Shola: Like I give a damn about you, too.
(Light fades.)
THE NEXT MONDAY MORNING
Hazeemah is patiently standing by the boss’s office, waiting for his arrival. She checks the time and speaks to herself.
Hazeemah: Wow, bosses with pride... How will he know how the company is functioning if he comes late?
(She raises her eyes and sees M.K. walking toward her, his subordinates following behind him. She decides to welcome him.)
Hazeemah: Good morning, sir. How was your—?
M.K.: Don’t spit on me, so shut the hell up!
(He stands by the door.)
Hazeemah: (hurrying to open the door) Please, come in, sir.
(She welcomes his subordinates as they enter his office, following them inside.)
M.K.: (still standing, glances at her)
Hazeemah: Oh!
(She pulls out the chair for him to sit.)
M.K.: (scans her from head to toe and, as he is about to sit, intentionally presses the chair on her foot, causing her to scream in pain) Oh! Are you blind? Can’t you move your leg?
Hazeemah: (shocked) But sir, you—
M.K.: Oh, so now you want to question me? Do you want to see my wrath?
Subordinate: (bows) Please forgive her, sir. She’s still new here.
Hazeemah: (still groaning in pain silently) I’m sorry, sir.
M.K.: (turning to his subordinates) Have a seat. Let’s discuss the new project.
The subordinates obey and proceed with the discussion.
M.K.: Am I supposed to tell you what to do next? Why are you just standing there?
Hazeemah: But sir...
Subordinate: (whispers to her) Go and make him some coffee.
Hazeemah: Oh! Sorry, sir... Please excuse me.
(She hurriedly walks out of the office.)
10 minutes later...
Hazeemah enters the office, where they are busy with a serious discussion. She nervously carries a large tray of coffee mugs. As she moves towards the desk, she almost slips due to her khimar but quickly regains her balance. She gently places the tray on the desk and presents a special mug with a saucer to M.K. first, then serves the subordinates. They begin to sip their coffee one by one, except for M.K., who glares at her furiously for interrupting the discussion. Hazeemah lowers her gaze and steps backward.
Hazeemah: (lost in thought) What kind of parents raised this type of son? I pity the woman who will accept to marry him. Look at how he’s staring at me like a predator... Yaa Allah, please help me...
(Suddenly, M.K. slams the coffee mug into her, shattering it on the floor in a violent explosion of ceramic. She freezes in stunned silence, her breath caught in her throat as she struggles to process the sudden, chaotic turn.)
Hazeemah: Subhanallah!
M.K.: What is this crap you made? Are you insane?!