Chapter 4: The Exile Zone and Halima’s Gamble

Next day for class, my classmates eye me one kind. If look fit wound person, I for don get injury. Some move bag from seat I near, others act like I no exist.

I try find seat, dem tell me everywhere full. I waka round like beggar. The popular seats for middle, nobody gree me sit. Last last, I go sit for back—the back seat where bad belle people dey banish person.

"No get shame." "Nonsense." "Dirty person." Insult fly everywhere. Some whisper, some talk am loud. Even first years dey look my side, dey gist about me.

During break, Halima suddenly shout. Her voice cut through the room. "Just now, Ifedayo mama say him sickness don worse."

Her voice tremble, tears gather. Some dey wipe eye too. "He need money for treatment sharp-sharp. Wetin we go do now..." Her words break, pain full voice. For Naija, that kind cry dey touch people well.

She cover face dey cry. Even boys quiet. Classroom heavy with sadness, nobody fit talk.

People dey look each other, press phone, shake head. We all still be small pikin for mind. Many never see person near fight for life before—reality slap us.

"Halima... We fit beg whole school to donate. No cry..." Blessing pet her, pat back. She bring tissue, hug her.

"But... e too urgent..." Halima voice break, hand cover face. "How we go gather this kind money..." People dey calculate, call parents, beg for WhatsApp group.

"He don dey our class for four years. If he no get treatment..." Ayo voice deep, dey remember all the moments Ifedayo make us laugh.

Classroom cold, even sun outside no fit warm us. I feel all their hateful eyes, even if dem no talk. For Naija, betray trust, shame go follow you like wrapper.

Halima wipe face, bite lip, come my side. She stand for my front, voice low. "Sade, abeg, no just look dey go. Even if I go borrow, abeg, help us with the money for Ifedayo first. After, I go work pay you back."

She reason with me like sister. For here, to beg openly na big thing. "Na now we need am..." she whisper, voice choke. Everybody dey look me, wait for reply.

She bend head, tears full eye but she no let dem fall. Her body dey shake, but she stand strong for class.

Other classmates stand behind her, dey support. You fit see unity. Some fold hand, others nod.

As I see Halima almost-cry, I look her, heart hard like kpof-kpof wey don stale. No be today dem start to judge me. I move chair back, bone face, act like say her palava na mosquito for my ear.

"I talk am before, I no get money." My voice cold, no remorse. Class hiss, some knock desk.

Halima just weak, fall for chair, bury head for desk dey cry. She surrender. Class quiet, only her sobs echo.

Classmates start to collect money by themselves, but na end of month, everybody money almost finish, so dem dey worry. People squeeze last Naira, count coins, ask if ATM dey work. For students, month end na wahala.

Suddenly, after she cry finish, Halima remember something, jump up. She clap hand, stand fast. "I remember!" She smile small, eyes still red. "My mama give me card with ten thousand naira—na for my graduation start-up money."

Some ask, "Are you sure?" She nod. Her hand shake as she look the card, memories of her mama’s sacrifice dey rush her mind, but she still step forward.

"I go donate am... Yes, I go donate am..." She no reason am again, just dey talk, like prayer. She rush find phone. Her hand shake as she type, but she finish.

Hope come back for her face, smile weak but bright. Classmates cheer her. "I don send my money plus the one wey we gather to Ifedayo mama. She say e go do for now, then we go find more donation from the whole school."

Everybody clap. Her courage dey touch people. Some shout, "Halima for president!" Girls hug her, boys tap back. "Halima, you too get heart."

Blessing talk loud, "Yes, Halima dey hustle, but now she still fit help. Unlike some people."

Class look my side, message clear. My chest tight, but pride still hold me. If I gree now, dem go think I weak. I still bone face.

"I believe am now—people really different." Even people wey no too like Halima before, dey show respect.

Halima look my side, sniff, talk, "I no believe say you go just dey look person dey suffer. I be mumu to see you as friend."

Her voice crack. She clean nose, look down. Everybody silent for seconds.

Many vex so tay dem spit my side, but I just dey press phone, no even look up. Spit land for floor near me. For Naija, na total rejection.

One week later, Ifedayo discharge from hospital, thanks to donations from the whole school. Gist run through school, juniors hail our class. Ifedayo return, walk small but smile plenty.