Anisa attended school for her lectures that day. Upon entering the classroom through the back door, she overheard Hafsat and her group discussing her.
"It's interesting to hear the rich kids talk about the poor kids early in the morning. I appreciate how obsessed you are with me," Anisa declared, raising her voice slightly to ensure the distant girls could hear her.
The girls were taken aback, realizing Anisa was aware of their conversation despite no one behaving as if they were talking about her.
"I can hear anything being said as long as we share the same space and sit in the same room. I do have ears," Anisa calmly stated.
"Then tell us what we said," challenged Hafsat, seated confidently at the table.
"You mentioned the girl from a lower social class being present. Thankfully, she's dressed beautifully today; everything just suits her so well, it's annoying," Anisa remarked, eliciting surprised looks from the others. "What? Isn't that what you said?"
"You're a witch," Ameera retorted, acknowledging the accuracy of Anisa's statement.
"I am not a witch. Har ni za a koya ma gulma," Anisa defended herself.
"Wai ke Dame kike takama ne? What gives you the confidence? Just look at your low status. You have no job in Willowbrook except for gossiping and going to the nightclub. Kalle ta fa koh followers din Kirki bata dashi balanta na ma," Hafsat criticized as she stood up and approached Anisa.
"In Willowbrook, you're only popular. But here, hmm, you're just nothing," Ameera remarked, capturing the attention of other students.
"Now I understand, you're talking about popularity. Too bad, so pathetic, wallahi," Anisa responded.
"There's nothing pathetic. You're the pathetic one. Let me check your Instagram page and tell people how pathetic you are," Hafsat declared. The girl behind Hafsat attempted to intervene, but Hafsat shouted her down and instructed Ameera to check Anisa's Instagram.
Anisa smiled, folding her hands gently across her chest. "Well, I'm waiting," she said calmly.
Ameera's face registered surprise. "What? Just say the number of her followers?" Hafsat demanded.
"She has over 1.5 million followers," Ameera revealed.
"What, that's a lie," Hafsat exclaimed. She took the phone from Ameera, examined it, and saw that it was indeed true.
Anisa maintained a composed smile as whispers circulated around them. "You bought those followers, didn't you?" Hafsat accused, her eyes nearly ablaze with anger.
"No, she didn't. Can't you see she's a model at Sahara Chic Couture company and has been involved in commercial modeling as well?" Jummy interjected, explaining why she had tried to dissuade Hafsat from checking Anisa's page earlier, albeit unsuccessfully due to Hafsat's outburst.
Hafsat glared at the phone in her hand as she scrolled through Anisa's pictures. Fueled by anger, she slammed the phone on the floor and exclaimed, "I've been trying to get into modeling with that company, but they rejected me. How did you manage to get in? Did you sleep with someone to secure your spot?"
"Look at me closely. Do I appear like someone who needs to compromise to land a modeling job?" Anisa retorted, prompting a guy from behind to affirm, "Honestly, you don't have to."
"Then take a good look at yourself, Hafsat. You have the figure for modeling, but even your demeanor won't secure you a spot, let alone your attitude," Anisa remarked confidently.
She walked past Hafsat and found a seat, where her friend Jiddah praised her for standing her ground. "I'm glad you showed her who you are. By the way, I didn't know you were into fashion," Jiddah remarked.
YOU ARE READING
Gossip to secret
General FictionAnd you come across people who look as if they have nothing to worry about, that they have no burden inside them, that there is nothing wrong going on with them, but only Allah knows what they're suffering from in secret. It's only in closed doors t...
