ACTS SIXTEEN
A MONTH AFTER
(It’s a hectic day at M&S Company. Employees bustle around, focused on their projects. Every department is absorbed in tasks, each worker contributing to the workflow. M.K. is in his office, urgently meeting with building engineers, while Hazeemah is swamped with phone calls, submitting and printing documents, and running back and forth from M.K.’s office.)
(After a few hours of non-stop work, it's finally time for the break. The employees pause to rest. Hazeemah, exhausted, leans back in her chair, having worked nonstop for over four hours.)
(M.K. enters abruptly and drops a paper on her desk.)
M.K.: (firmly) Go and give this to the announcer. The break ends in less than five minutes! We’re expecting our guest in 20 minutes.
Hazeemah: (startled, rising slowly, voice tired) Okay, sir.
M.K.: (scans her) What’s with the attitude?
Hazeemah: (sighing) I’m not giving any attitude, sir. I’m just... really tired.
M.K.: (brusque) You're not the only one working since morning. Pull yourself together. We're having a very special guest from Saudi Arabia, so make sure you look presentable.
Hazeemah: (softly) Okay, sir. (sighs and exits)
(M.K. returns to his office. Hazeemah walks toward the announcement room, thinking to herself.)
Hazeemah: (to herself) As-salamu alaykum... (enters the announcement room and finds Salamah resting her head) Here. (drops the paper on Salamah’s desk) Please pass the announcement. It’s urgent. (turns to leave)
Salamah: (snapping, getting up) Get back here! You've got a lot of nerve, don’t you? Watch how you speak to me! I’m your senior, and I deserve respect, just like the boss.
Hazeemah: (shakes her head, reaching for the door, when Salamah pulls her back) What is it now? I’m not looking to cause trouble... I’ve done my part. Do yours before Mr. M.K. takes it out on you.
Salamah: I’m not done talking! I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again—you don’t belong here, and you never will!
Hazeemah: (calmly, but with strength) You’re right, let’s assume I don’t belong here. Then what are you doing here? Because it seems like the only problem you and the others have with me is my hijab—my religion. If I don’t belong, neither do you... unless you're a kafir. You know, sometimes it’s hard to believe that my fellow Muslims would stand against me for taking my faith seriously—more than any outsider would. You’re willing to ruin a fellow Muslim’s life over this? Why? It’s a poor mindset, and you need to work on that. If you put half the effort into your own life as you put into bringing me down, you’d be in a much better place. (walks away and slams the door)
(Salamah stands there, panting with frustration, her head spinning. She suddenly screams in anger.)
Salamah: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (her breathing is heavy as the office phone rings, snapping her back to reality. She answers quickly.) This is Salamah Bello speaking.
M.K.: (on the phone, coldly) I give you thirty seconds to make that announcement, or say goodbye to your job. (hangs up)
Salamah: (panicked) I’m so sorry, sir! (rushes to the studio room)
*********************************************
(All the employees, including team leaders, gather in the parking lot. M.K. leads the way, with Hazeemah standing behind him, waiting for their VIP guest’s arrival.)
Hazeemah: (lost in thought) I’m so tired, wallahi. No one told me that when dreams come true, that’s when the real journey starts. Look at us, standing like everything’s fine, but most of us are exhausted. I don’t even know what their first impression of me will be. Why am I always so nervous? Ya Allah, I feel like I’m going to collapse. (The security gate opens, and three exclusive cars drive into the parking lot.) Here goes nothing.
M.K.: (steps forward and opens the door of the first car as the VIP guest steps out with his entourage) As-salamu alaykum. (shakes hands with the Arabian guest)
Alhaji Muhammed: Wa alaykum salam wa rahmatullah, my brother. (they embrace and shake hands with the rest of the team; Alhaji notices Hazeemah)
M.K.: Welcome to Nigeria, sir. Please, come with us. (whispers to Hazeemah as they walk inside) Is everything ready?
Hazeemah: (with a bright smile) Yes, sir.
M.K.: (raises an eyebrow at her) What’s with the smile? Can you focus?
Hazeemah: Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I was just following your order to welcome the guest with a bright smile.
M.K.: Whatever. (moves forward) This way, sir.
(Mrs. Fashola, Abdullahi, and Reem open the conference room doors as everyone heads inside. Hazeemah is about to close the glass door when someone places their foot in the way.)
Hazeemah: (without looking up) I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you. (looks up and freezes in shock)
Khalid: It’s fine. May I come in now? (he doesn’t recognize her)
Hazeemah: (clears her throat) Uh, yes, sir. Please come in. (she can’t help but stare as he walks in, exuding confidence, and joins the meeting)
Khalid: (exchanges greetings with M.K. and the others, then takes a seat beside his boss) Shall we begin?
Alhaji Muhammed: Yes, let’s get started.
(Reem steps forward, signals the person in charge of the computer, and begins the presentation on his team’s project. Throughout the meeting, Hazeemah can't stop glancing at Khalid, her mind racing with thoughts, still in shock from seeing him in person.)
(After an hour of the presentation, everyone returns to their respective places, while the guests retire to M.K.'s office for further discussions and final conclusions.)
Alhaji Muhammed: The project is impressive. I like it already. When will you be taking us to the site?
M.K.: If you'd like to go now, I can lead the way. But it’s been a long, stressful day for you and your team. Your accommodations are ready, and the drivers can take you to a luxury hotel where you can rest. We’ll continue tomorrow, insha Allah.
Hazeemah: (standing by the door, sneaking glances at Khalid. Every time their eyes meet, she quickly looks away.)
Alhaji Muhammed: That’s perfect. Unfortunately, I’ll be heading back to Saudi Arabia tomorrow, but I’ll leave my personal assistant here to oversee the project until it’s completed. Luckily, he’s a Nigerian.
M.K.: (shaking hands) It’s been a pleasure working with you, sir.
Khalid: The pleasure is all mine. It feels great to be home after all these years.
M.K.: That’s wonderful! I’ll be happy to show you around—Nigeria has changed a lot.
Khalid: I like you already.
Alhaji Muhammed: Don’t get too distracted. You know why you’re here.
Khalid: Yes, sir. (smiles and notices Hazeemah standing by the door)
Alhaji Muhammed: (also notices her) Ukti!
Hazeemah: (startled, realizing everyone is looking at her) Na’am?
Alhaji Muhammed: Yes, you! The hijabi in the suit. (everyone chuckles) Very impressive. (turns to M.K.) I’m really impressed to see you employing women like her. If only you knew the honor this brings to all Muslims. In fact, I could help you get more clients from Saudi Arabia for employing a hijabi. Barakallah feekum. Truly impressive. (stands up) I should be going now.
M.K.: (beaming with pride) Thank you, sir. (shakes hands and accompanies him out)
Hazeemah: (hurries to open the door for Alhaji with a bright smile) Thank you for the compliment, sir. It really made my day.
Alhaji Muhammed: You’re welcome. By the way, are you married? If not, I could make you my fourth wife and take you to live in Saudi Arabia.
(M.K. and Hazeemah are both stunned.)
Hazeemah: (speechless) Sir?
Khalid: (smiles and interrupts) Please, don’t mind my boss. Shall we? (whispers to Alhaji Muhammed) Don’t forget your promise to your wives, sir.
Alhaji Muhammed: Oh, that’s true! (chuckles as they continue their conversation, gisting until they return to the car and drive away)
Hazeemah: (smiling, happily returns to the company, momentarily forgetting her worries)
M.K.: (watches her with a strange look on his face)
(Five minutes later)
Hazeemah: (lost in thought, smiling to herself, resting her head on her desk) Hmmm, this day couldn’t get any better. For the first time, I see why I should never give up on my dreams. This is just the beginning. But that man—asking me to be his fourth wife? I was speechless! (laughs to herself) What a funny guy. And then... Khalid. Why is Khalid suddenly in the picture? Is Allah trying to tell me something? The man I rejected is now right here in front of me. Should I tell him who I really am the next time we meet? Or what if he hates me when he finds out? I can’t believe my heart skipped a beat when I saw him. He looks even better in person. (sighs and hits her head lightly) Why did I end the courtship? I don’t think I can ever reveal my identity to him.
M.K.: (interrupts her thoughts) What are you thinking about—and blushing at the same time?
Hazeemah: (startled, quickly stands up) Sir? Oh, I’m not blushing... I’m just happy today.
M.K.: Happy because a foreigner asked you to be his fourth wife? I’m sure you’d do anything to get him, wouldn’t you? Always selling yourself cheap. Look at you, smiling and showing all your teeth to him.
Hazeemah: (shocked, her jaw drops in disbelief) What did you just say, sir? (glances at her wristwatch, realizing it’s time for Asr prayer)
M.K.: What? Do you want to scold me? How dare you ask me that stupid question! You want me to repeat myself?
Hazeemah: (suddenly sad, taking a step back) If only you knew how much your words just broke me into pieces. Do I really look that cheap to you, sir? Just because you’re my boss doesn’t mean you have the right to judge me or my feelings. Look at me, sir—I am priceless, and I cannot be bought. Everyone has limits, and you’ve crossed yours. For the past month and a half of working here, I’ve endured your insults, but this is too much. (pauses, voice soft but firm) Please excuse me. (starts to walk out)
M.K.: Get back here!
Hazeemah: (pauses, turns around, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt) What now? Another round of insults? Can’t you see how that man treated everyone with respect, even though he’s filthy rich? But you... you despise me for no reason. Sometimes I think you only hired me to manipulate me.
Reem: (watching from a distance, suspicious) Is something going on between those two? They argue all the time, but this feels... different. Something’s definitely fishy.