Umma moved closer and eventually succeeded in grabbing my hand. Then she said, "My dear, why are you so startled? Your father is just joking." I let out a deep sigh of relief, and then she said, "Where have you been? It's been a while since school closed."

She pulled my hand and we sat down. In a weak voice, I said, "Dad, I really want to change schools. I'm tired of this stupid government school. They never let us study properly, and I'm really fed up. Imagine, the school won't resume for another three months. I really dislike this governor."

Dad sighed and said, "Am I the one who chose the school for you? I remember you insisted on going to a government school. From the beginning, I knew this was not a good idea, but you insisted."

He stood up and shrugged, indicating it was my problem, and said, "Why don't you tell your uncle to transfer you to another school? He will just waste money accommodating your whims." Then he left.

Umma said, "My dear, may Allah guide you. Now you want Faruq to change your school again. He indulges you too much, and you take advantage of it." She hissed and went into her room.

Feeling annoyed, I headed to my own room, which was far from theirs. Being an only child, no one could bother me in my room. I went into the bathroom, took a bath, and performed ablution. Then, I spread out my prayer mat and calmly performed the Dhuhr prayer, which was a little past two o'clock. After that, I dressed in my Islamic school uniform from Sheikh Abubakar Mahmud Gumi, which consisted of a blue shirt and trousers, along with a long hijab that reached the ground. I took my schoolbag filled with books, sprayed myself with perfume, and was about to leave when I went back to the mirror to apply heavy makeup. Our teachers at the Islamic school didn’t like any makeup; even wearing lipstick would make them punish you by scrubbing your uniform against a wall. But today, I was feeling confident, and no teacher would dare to hit me without facing the consequences from my uncle.

As I stepped out, I ran into Umma heading to the kitchen. She exclaimed, "Rauda, are you okay? You look like you're going to a gala or dinner party with all that makeup. How do I handle this stubbornness of yours?"

I laughed heartily and said, "Umma, you make me laugh. It's just makeup, and I won't let anyone's opinion stop me from doing what I want. I'll be back later."

She watched me with concern and said, "Come back safely." As I left, I muttered, "God willing."

When I got to the school, I walked instead of taking a motorcycle because my uncle didn't want me to. I arrived just as they were recording latecomers. Without stopping, I headed straight into the chaos. One of the teachers shouted, "Hey, you there, come here!"

Angrily, I turned around because I didn't expect such disrespect. He probably thought I wouldn't respond unless he insulted me. I was determined to show him I was the leader of the troublemakers. I handed my bag to a nearby girl and told her to take it to our class. Then, without hesitation, I slapped the teacher. Before he could recover from the shock, I slapped him again.