That's right, what's that, girl?
"You know that café has that chair everyone sits on when they come to eat? Big or small, whoever walks in sits on it. So, my friend, it means some real heavy-level whoring. This city's wild, I swear, I'm even scared of it."
Those two were college students at the Institute of Financial Management right in the city center. The story about that girl who was sleeping around with men of all ages was spreading in their circles. Her fame had gone beyond the limit—though if you looked at her, you'd never guess it was her until someone told you.
The story started with just one person telling another, then the next person couldn't keep their mouth shut and passed it along again. None of them thought it would spread that far, but people like that never keep a thing in their chest—just gossip and let it fly. The girl they talked about had no clue at all what was being said or that she'd even become famous in that way.
.
That's how it came to be that grown men had given her the nickname "The Café Board"—because everyone got to sit on it. She slept with whoever wanted her, no limits, no filters. They used that name to hide the harsh truth behind it—so that even a small kid hearing it wouldn't know the dirty meaning.
---
Morning assembly came around. All the students gathered, and the teacher on duty, along with others including Manjenje, stood in front. The usual school routine went on until the time for the day's talk arrived. That's when Gobosi stepped forward to speak, giving all sorts of instructions—how they were supposed to behave that week since he'd be supervising.
He talked a lot—too much, really—and even pointed out a particular class, saying they didn't seem to know themselves because they couldn't even keep their classroom clean.
He didn't stop there. He scolded them good, his words cutting deep—if you listened too closely, you'd feel it sting right in your heart. He just kept going until he felt satisfied, then stepped aside to let the rest of the morning continue. He called out the class leader to see him afterward—meaning that wasn't the end of it.
When everything was done, students went back to class. Then a bright-skinned girl walked up to the duty teacher, who was talking with Manjenje. She introduced herself as the class leader, responding to the call. Gobosi looked at her for a while and just sighed.
The girl was spotless. Her hair was neatly done, deep black, shiny and smooth. Her shirt so white it could've been brand-new, though it clearly wasn't. Her skirt, socks, shoes—all clean, all in place. On top of that, she wore mild perfume mixed with a light scent of oil—simple but nice.
She wasn't too thick or too slim—just perfectly built. Pretty in her own way, the kind of young girl who carried herself with discipline and grace. She looked respectful toward her teachers, fitting her position as a class leader. She drew attention easily—but for Gobosi, it only made him stare, half in disbelief.
Then he started:
"Looking at you from head to toe, no one would think you study in a filthy place like that, like you're learning how to live like a bedbug. You're all smelling nice like perfume, but your class looks like a dumpsite. Others who don't even bother to smell good clean theirs before heading home—but not you. You must be living with cow ticks back home. That skin of yours looks like you polished it just to cover up all the dirt underneath. You can't be shining like that, with neat clothes and clean shoes, if your room's a trash pit. A whole grown girl like you, already hit puberty, yet you have to be pushed like a donkey to make your class clean? You can't even lead yourself."
He grabbed her hand, raised it, and checked her nails—perfectly cut and clean.
"These nails, if you'd let them grow a little, they'd be full of black dirt like you've been digging mud with catfish. Living in a place even a primary school kid wouldn't stay in. Are you a human being or a maggot?"
By then her eyes were turning red, tears swelling up. He just kept going. And finally, she couldn't take it—her tears spilled, quiet sobs shaking her. Those words cut deep.
A young girl, proud of her cleanliness and growing into womanhood—being told she was filthy—it broke her down completely.
Every girl, when insulted about her hygiene or appearance, either gets mad or just cries. That's what she did. Tears streaming down, she started hiccupping between sobs. Gobosi finally let her go, shouting at her to leave.
When she walked off, Manjenje burst out laughing—loud, full laughter. He slapped Gobosi on the shoulder, clearly entertained by the whole thing. "Man, the way you roasted that kid… you didn't even touch her, but she cried like you'd beaten her half to death."
---
"Irene, what's wrong with you, why're you crying like that?"
"Madam, Sir Gobosi said awful things to me just because my classmates didn't sweep and mop on Friday," she said between sniffs when teacher Lily met her carrying books and chalk toward her class.
Lily just smiled, shaking her head.
"Next time, stand your ground as class leader. Don't let them be lazy. If they don't listen, take their names straight to him during duty. Gobosi doesn't cane people for that kind of mistake—his punishment's all words. If you want to avoid that, make sure your classmates mop that classroom after lessons today. Now wipe those tears, pretty girl, and head back before anyone sees you crying."
Irene just nodded, wiped her face, and walked off. Lily kept her smile as she went on toward her class. She stepped into the room where Frida and her friends studied—found them whispering softly. They stopped when they saw her and stood up to greet.
She responded and said,
"Listen, today I don't want to hear anyone starting trouble they can't handle. You know who's on duty this week, right? Now imagine—next year you've got exams, and you're caught whispering like this. You must really love the sound of that man's mouth when he starts talking. He's already made another girl, Irene from form two, cry this morning because her class was dirty. So, if any of you want to end up in his line of fire today, it's your funeral."
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