It was a quiet afternoon, the soft hum of students' chatter filling the air. Nifemi, ever curious, turned to Rita with a question that seemed innocent enough, but would soon ignite a small firestorm.
"Rita," Nifemi asked, her voice full of innocence, "Do you think it's okay for girls to wear trousers to church?"
Rita, who had always held strong beliefs about modesty and tradition, paused for a moment. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she considered the question. She didn't mind Nifemi asking, but she knew that her response would carry weight—especially in a place like church.
"No, it's not good to wear trousers to church," Rita answered firmly, her voice steady. "Why would a girl wear trousers there? Church is a sacred place, and it's about respect, about modesty."
Before Nifemi could respond, Anne, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, spoke up with an unexpected boldness.
"Oh, don't mind her, Nifemi," Anne said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You can wear whatever you feel comfortable in. Trousers are fine."
Rita's heart skipped a beat, her frustration building. Why does Anne always have to jump into every conversation? she thought, her mind racing. This isn't her discussion. Why does she feel the need to challenge everything I say?
Her thoughts spiraled as Anne continued, oblivious to the growing tension. "Small children can wear trousers to church," Anne added, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
Rita felt the blood rush to her face. Small children? she thought bitterly. She's not even taking this seriously.
Rita clenched her jaw, but the words that escaped her were sharp, almost too sharp. "It's not good. It's even in the Bible," Rita shot back, trying to hold on to her composure. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Anne, unfazed, laughed lightly, as if the whole thing was a joke. "Nifemi, don't listen to Rita. I'll wear trousers that fit my body, no problem," she said, her tone light but defiant. "And Rita, well, she'll always be in skirts. That's just how it is."
Rita felt something inside her snap. It wasn't just the words Anne had said; it was the way Anne had completely disregarded her opinion. It was the way Anne had inserted herself into a conversation that had nothing to do with her, acting as if her thoughts were the only ones that mattered. Rita's vision blurred with anger, her hands trembling.
Without thinking, she stood up quickly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She grabbed her books, her breath shallow, and stormed out of the classroom without a second glance at Anne or Nifemi. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before her, the sounds of laughter and voices from the other classrooms fading into the background. Rita's thoughts swirled, unable to settle. Anne... she doesn't even get it. She thinks she knows everything.
She reached the quiet corner of the school garden, the one where she often went to collect her thoughts. The fresh air, the gentle rustle of leaves, and the soft rays of the afternoon sun helped calm her for a moment. But the anger still simmered just beneath the surface.
Nifemi followed her, walking briskly to catch up. "Rita, calm down. Just... let it go," she said, trying to gently hold her arm.
But Rita was beyond calming down. Her feelings were too raw, too frustrated.
"Can you believe her, Nifemi? Who does she think she is? Just because she's the Head Girl doesn't mean she can interrupt every conversation like she owns the place!" Rita's voice cracked slightly, the anger turning into something else—hurt, maybe. Or just plain exhaustion from always having to defend herself.
Nifemi, taken aback by Rita's outburst, took a moment to process. She had never seen Rita this upset before. "I get it, Rita. I do. But you know Anne—she's always been like that. She doesn't mean harm, really."
Rita shook her head, trying to stop the tears from welling up. "She's always like this. And I'm just tired of it," Rita muttered under her breath, her voice thick with frustration.
The next morning, Rita walked into class, still carrying the weight of the previous day's argument with her. The classroom buzzed with the usual chatter of students, but Rita's mind was elsewhere. She was lost in her thoughts, still replaying the argument over and over again in her head. As she made her way to her seat, she spotted Anne at her desk, her expression somewhat sheepish.
Anne stood up and walked over to Rita, her steps slow and hesitant. "Rita, hey... I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have interrupted you, and I shouldn't have been so harsh about the whole trousers thing. I wasn't trying to upset you ." Anne said, her tone soft and sincere.
Rita stood frozen, a little stunned. She had expected Anne to act like nothing had happened, to brush it off as if it were no big deal. But here Anne was, admitting her mistake. There was a sincerity in her eyes that made Rita pause.
For a long moment, Rita said nothing. Her anger still lingered, but she couldn't deny the truth in Anne's words. With a deep sigh, Rita finally spoke. "It's okay, Anne," she said quietly. "I just... I don't like when people don't listen. It feels like you don't care what I think."
Anne nodded, her eyes apologetic. "I understand. And I promise I'll listen more."
The tension between them slowly melted away. Rita wasn't sure if they would ever see eye-to-eye on everything, but in that moment, she appreciated Anne's effort to make things right.
As Anne walked back to her desk, Rita felt a small sense of relief. Maybe they wouldn't always agree, but they could at least respect each other's opinions. And that, she thought, was a step in the right direction.