ACT THIRTEEN
M.K: What is your profession again?
Hazeemah: I’m an architect, sir.
M.K: Are you serious? You mean you can design a house? You?
Hazeemah: Yes, sir. Test me and see.
M.K: Confident, huh? Alright. I’ve assigned a project for the architectural team to design an exclusive company building for our current project. The best design gets a promotion.
Hazeemah: (excited) Try me, sir.
M.K: You’re just a personal assistant, though. Let’s see if you can handle an assignment. I want you to design my personal house in Lekki. Submit it first thing tomorrow morning. And if you don’t impress me… well, you won’t just lose this job. I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted from applying for any job in Nigeria. Mark my words.
Hazeemah: (irritated, but tries to hide it)
M.K.: Did you just look at me like that?
Hazeemah: (shocked) No, sir! I’m sorry. I’m okay with the task.
M.K: Don’t use any software. I want it hand-drawn. Is that clear?
Hazeemah: (exhales softly) Sir, could you give me two days? Less than a day won’t be enough.
M.K.: My decision is final. Take it or leave it. Now, go confirm my next meeting with the client from Announcer and fix the time.
Hazeemah: What time would you prefer, sir?
M.K.: After lunch tomorrow.
Hazeemah: Got it, sir.
M.K.: I hope you’re taking notes. Any mistake won’t be taken lightly.
Hazeemah: Don’t worry, sir.
M.K.: And make me some coffee before you leave.
Hazeemah: Right away, sir. (She leaves the room, closing the door gently.)
M.K.: (relaxes, thinking to himself) It’s the guts for me... I’m going to push her beyond her limits. She insulted me before, and now, I’ll make her pay. Let’s see how much she can take. (chuckles wickedly) You have no idea who you messed with.
(Curtain)
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Scene 2
(Hazeemah returns to her desk after serving M.K. coffee. She starts working on her assignment, sketching, when she is suddenly interrupted.)
Abdullahi: Hajia Hazeemah!
Hazeemah: (startled) You scared me! How can I help you, sir?
Abdullahi: What are you working on?
Hazeemah: (already frustrated but forces a smile) My first assignment. I have to submit it tomorrow.
Abdullahi: Masha Allah! That’s wonderful! What are you designing?
Hazeemah: (gritting her teeth) A house. I’m doing what an architect does. So please, I need to focus.
Abdullahi: That’s impressive. You’re focused, I’ll leave you to it.
Hazeemah: (notices he’s still staring) Sir, I really can’t concentrate while you’re watching me.
Abdullahi: Oh! Apologies, Hajia. I’ll leave now. Good luck. (waves as he leaves)
(Other female colleagues glance at her, murmuring with jealousy, noticing how Hazeemah attracts male attention. Reem approaches, smiling.)
Reem: As-salaam alaykum, Hajia.
Hazeemah: (annoyed at yet another interruption) Yes, sir?
Reem: Sorry for bothering you. I noticed how Abdullahi distracted you earlier. I’m just here to submit my assignment for the boss. Kindly pass it on and let me know the feedback.
Hazeemah: (takes the documents) Got it, sir.
Reem: One more thing. Don’t start your first day with an angry face. Smile, it suits you.
Hazeemah: (forces a smile, not looking up) I’ll work on that, sir. Thanks for the advice.
Reem: And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be just a mile away. (Smiles and still standing)
Hazeemah: (thinking to herself) He’s not leaving either! How am I supposed to focus with all these interruptions? What should I do? (Suddenly grabs her phone and pretends to make a call) Yes, sir… I’ll bring it right away. (gathers the documents) Excuse me, the boss needs me. (walks away)
Reem: Oh, okay. (smiles and heads back to his team)
(Hazeemah stands by M.K.'s door, calming her nerves before knocking and entering.)
Hazeemah: Can I come in?
M.K.: You’re already inside, aren’t you? Don’t ask foolish questions. Either come in or get out.
Hazeemah: Sorry, sir. (steps forward and hands over the documents) Mr. Reem submitted this.
M.K.: Do you want to drop it on my head?
Hazeemah: Sorry, sir. (places it on the desk)
M.K.: What are you working on now?
Hazeemah: The assignment you gave me, sir.
M.K.: Good. Since you’re not too busy, I need you to organize a meeting for me with the survey team. I’ll join them in five minutes.
Hazeemah: Right away, sir. (quickly leaves)
(Hazeemah rushes to the meeting room, setting up chairs, and fetching water and drinks from the cafeteria. As the team starts arriving, some mock her while others laugh, seeing her for the first time. She smiles and welcomes them, with Mr. Gbenga, the team leader, arriving last.)
Hazeemah: Welcome, sir.
Mr. Gbenga: (scanning her from head to toe) Are you the new secretary? (chuckles) Hiring you has really lowered the professional standard of this company.
Hazeemah: (thinking) Hiring people like you won’t just harm the company for looking down on others, but it’ll also destroy basic humanity. (smiles politely as she suddenly sees M.K. approaching) And here comes the rude pig... (opens the glass door, forcing a smile)
M.K.: (ignores her as he enters) Stay outside. I’ll call you when I need you.
Hazeemah: Alright, sir. (exits, gently closing the door, then mimics him mockingly) "Stay outside." (rests her head on the glass wall, noticing Salamah approaching without making eye contact. Hazeemah acts like she sees no one.)
Salamah: (pauses in front of her) Welcome back to hell.
Hazeemah: Feels great to meet you here again.
Salamah: (tightens her fist) You’ll never belong here. You were reemployed by your charm, but not for long.
Hazeemah: You’re right. I don’t belong here. Remember, you called it hell. So that’s where you truly belong.
Salamah: (steps forward, confronting her) Watch your mouth, or I’ll rearrange your face right here.
Hazeemah: (smiles) Sorry, ma’am. But remember, this glass is transparent—they can’t hear us, but they can see us. Don’t drag your “hell” into this. Now, please excuse me. (walks away)
Salamah: (panting furiously)
(Curtain)
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Later that afternoon—Mr. Oyegbami’s office.
Mr. Oyegbami: (ranting on the phone) You want a divorce, right? Fine. You’ll get what you’re asking for. If only you knew how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. You’ve made me sick of this marriage. But I don’t want our child to grow up without both of us. You give me nothing but pain, Shola! You left the country without even consulting me—just for some stupid vacation!
Mrs. Shola: (firing back) You’re nothing but a shameless man. I regret the day I ever accepted your proposal. You’ve given me nothing but sorrow and pain. From the beginning of this marriage until now, all you’ve done is cheat—cheat and cheat with other women! Do you even know how much I’ve suffered from infections because of you? You disgust me. You’ve brought nothing but shame to my name and my company.
Mr. Oyegbami: Don’t even go there! You turned me into a cheater because all you care about is work! You prioritize your so-called company over our marriage. Well, now you’ve lost it. I won’t object to the divorce, but I want my daughter.
Mrs. Shola: (bursting into laughter) Oh, that’s rich! You think this is a joke?
Mr. Oyegbami: We’ll see who wins in court.
Mrs. Shola: Don’t start something you can’t finish. This child is mine. She can’t be raised by a man who sleeps with anything that moves. What assurance do I have that you won’t harm my daughter? You want to go to court? Be my guest. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying my vacation.
Mr. Oyegbami: You’re on. Enjoy your little getaway, because you have no idea what’s coming for you when you return. (hisses and hangs up)
(Curtain)
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THAT SAME DAY 1:45PM
At M&S COMPANY
Hazeemah: (focused on her sketches, suddenly interrupted)
Abdullahi: As-salamu alaykum, Hajia Hazeemah.
Hazeemah: (sighs, forcing herself to remain calm) Wa alaykumu as-salam, sir. (forces a smile) How may I help you this time?
Abdullahi: It’s time for Zuhr prayer. Normally, no one else goes to the mosque except me, but now that I have a companion, it feels like paradise. Let’s go.
Hazeemah: Oh! I understand… I’ll join you shortly. You go ahead, and I’ll follow.
Abdullahi: But you don’t know where the mosque is.
Hazeemah: I can always ask for directions, sir.
Abdullahi: C’mon! You don’t need directions when you have me.
Hazeemah: (thinking) My time here won’t be frustrating because of M.K. alone—it seems like everyone is out to test my patience. (sighs, lowering her gaze, then gets up) Fine, let’s go.
Abdullahi: (smiling broadly) Masha Allah, let’s go!
Hazeemah: Lead the way, sir.
Abdullahi: (happily walks ahead)
Hazeemah: (fakes a smile, adjusting her khimar as they head out. Colleagues begin to whisper and gossip around them.) Now they’re gossiping too.
Abdullahi: Don’t mind them... you’ll get used to it.
Hazeemah: (curiosity gets the better of her) Umm... Mr. Abdullahi?
Abdullahi: Yes, Hajia?
Hazeemah: Sorry for this odd question, but... what’s your marital status?
Abdullahi: (his cheerful expression suddenly fades) Oh... that’s an unexpected question.
Hazeemah: (noticing his reaction) I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you. You don’t have to answer. Is that the mosque over there? (hurries ahead, trying to avoid him)
Fifteen minutes later, Hazeemah returns to her desk. She tries to resume her sketches when she notices a phone notification. Picking it up, she sees fifteen missed calls from a private number.
Hazeemah: (puzzled) Who could this be? (dials the number) As-salamu alaykum?
M.K.: Wa alaykumu as-salam! Where on earth were you when I needed you?
Hazeemah: (trying to place the voice) Who is this, please?
M.K.: Get to my office right now before you see my wrath! (ends the call)
Hazeemah: (in disbelief) How did he even get my number? And did he just respond to my greeting? (shakes her head) This has to be a dream. (sprints to M.K.’s office) I’m so sorry, sir, I went to pray, and I...
M.K.: How dare you leave without my permission?
Hazeemah: No, sir, I told you I went to pray and I...
M.K.: Next time you leave without my permission, you’ll regret being reemployed. I promise you that. I’m watching everything you do at your desk.
Hazeemah: (confused) I’m sorry, sir.
M.K.: I see everything, including that stupid sketch you’ve been working on.
Hazeemah: Wait! Did you install...?
M.K.: You really don’t know there’s a CCTV watching everyone?
Hazeemah: (surprised) I didn’t know. I’m deeply sorry, sir. Please forgive me. But, sir, can I ask you one question?
M.K.: Get out!
Hazeemah: Sir, please, just one question...
M.K.: (suddenly stands up) You’ve got a lot of nerve on your first day!
Hazeemah: Sir, you really need to calm down. Getting angry doesn’t suit you. You always look like you’re about to explode. You should try smiling... right now you look like an angry bird.
M.K.: (jaw drops, stunned)
Watch out for the next episode!