The Untainted
Chapter Two
Rihannat attends one of the most prestigious private universities in Lagos—Abdullah Collins University (A.C.U.), a world-renowned institution named after its founder. The university has earned an international reputation for academic excellence, discipline, and innovation, attracting students from influential families across Nigeria and beyond.
Gaining admission into A.C.U. is a dream for many, but only a few ever succeed.
Rihannat is one of those few.
Her admission comes through the university's annual scholarship program. Her years of relentless hard work finally pay off when she emerges as one of the top three candidates with the highest JAMB scores in the country. Every year, only five exceptional but financially disadvantaged students are awarded full scholarships, and by Allah's grace, she becomes one of them.
She still remembers the overwhelming joy she feels the day the admission email arrives. She cries tears of gratitude, unable to believe that Allah has opened a door many can only dream of entering.
Despite studying there for over two years, she has never once seen the university's sponsors.
Neither has any other student.
They are almost mythical figures within the institution.
Very few people know the founders personally because the family rarely appears at public events or social gatherings. The university is managed entirely by a competent governing board while they remain behind the scenes.
Yet their impact speaks louder than their presence.
The Abdullah Collins family is among the most influential and wealthiest families in Africa. However, they are known less for their fortune than for their compassion and deep devotion to Allah.
Their humanitarian work stretches across the country.
They sponsor brilliant but underprivileged students, build orphanages, fund life-saving surgeries for patients who cannot afford treatment, empower widows and struggling families, and invest heavily in community development without seeking recognition.
To countless people, they are nothing short of Allah's mercy on earth.
A.C.U. itself reflects their vision.
The university is filled with heirs to multinational corporations, politicians, diplomats, and influential business families. Only a small number of middle-class and less privileged students gain admission through scholarships or personal sponsorships.
Yet social status rarely divides the students.
Everyone understands that the enormous tuition fees paid by the wealthy help finance scholarships and charitable projects that transform thousands of lives across Nigeria.
It is a university built not only on excellence but also on service.
Ironically, while almost no one knows the faces of the university's founders, very few students realize that the founders' own children walk among them every day.
Basit.
And his younger sister, Faridat.
The siblings live so quietly that anyone can pass by them without realizing who they truly are.
Despite coming from extraordinary wealth, they never flaunt it.
Both rank among the brightest and most responsible students in the university. They keep a small circle of friends, avoid unnecessary attention, and live with remarkable simplicity.
They could easily have pursued their education abroad like many children of billionaires.
Instead, they choose to remain in Nigeria.
Why leave when their country already has one of Africa's finest universities, staffed by distinguished lecturers recruited from around the world?
That commitment to excellence is one of the reasons many wealthy families still choose to educate their children at home instead of overseas.
Unlike many public institutions, A.C.U. never experiences strikes unless there is a nationwide shutdown.
The following day unfolds like every other weekday for Rihannat.
Her life revolves around lectures, assignments, and purposeful movement from one classroom to another.
She wastes neither time nor words.
By the afternoon, the golden sunlight filters lazily through the classroom windows as students wait impatiently for the final lecture to end.
Some are already discussing weekend plans.
Others pack their bags before the lecturer even dismisses the class.
Rihannat remains focused.
Her pen glides swiftly across the pages of her notebook as she completes the final lines of her assignment.
When the lecture ends, she carefully arranges her notes before walking toward the front of the class.
Basit sits there collecting assignments in his capacity as class president.
He accepts each submission with calm professionalism, greeting every student politely.
When Rihannat reaches him, she hands over her assignment without unnecessary conversation.
Basit glances through the cover page before looking up.
"Your project," he says gently. "It's due in five days. How far have you gone?"
"I've started the analysis," she replies. "I should finish the first draft before the weekend."
He nods approvingly.
"Good. Let's meet tomorrow so we can review everything together."
"That's fine."
Without another word, she turns and walks away.
Basit's eyes unconsciously follow her until she disappears through the classroom door.
He releases a quiet breath.
Working with Rihannat over the past two years has only made her more difficult to understand.
She remains an unsolved mystery.
As a man who comes from one of the most respected families in Africa, Basit carries a legacy of influence which he hides from people.
His father is an internationally recognized business magnate whose investments stretch across several continents.
His mother, an accomplished architect, has designed landmark projects admired both within and outside Nigeria.
Yet despite being surrounded by wealth and influence, Basit never allows privilege to define him.
He is disciplined.
Reserved.
Humble.
His younger sister, Faridat, is an Architecture student at the same university.
Like her brother, she carries herself with quiet elegance.
Although many students want to befriend her because of her mysterious family background, she keeps only a handful of genuine friends.
Her closest companion is Farhan—a friendship built on sincerity rather than status. Farhan comes from a middle-class family.
Their parents have raised them with one principle above all else:
Character before reputation. Humility before wealth. Faith before everything else.
Those values shape every aspect of their lives.
Perhaps that is why they are admired far beyond their family name and treated like any other students on campus, unaware that they carry power far more unimaginable.
Attention from girls has never been a problem for Basit.
Many openly admire him.
Some deliberately search for excuses to approach him.
Others seek academic help merely to spend time with him.
A few even attempt to win him over with beauty and charm.
He rejects every advance respectfully.
His closest friend remains Ridwan—his childhood companion who has known him long before people admired the Abbas name.
Yet there is one girl he simply cannot remove from his thoughts.
Rihannat.
For over two years, he has quietly observed her.
Every group assignment reveals another layer of her character.
She is hardworking.
Intelligent.
Dependable.
She never seeks attention.
Never tries to impress anyone.
Never attempts to use her position as assistant class president to gain favors.
Instead...
She keeps her distance.
Not just from him—
From every male student.
She spends most of her time with two close female friends.
No unnecessary conversations.
No playful flirting.
No lingering interactions.
At first, he assumes she is simply shy.
But as time passes, he realizes it is something deeper.
Boundaries.
Firm.
Clear.
And somehow...
Those very boundaries fascinate him.
"She's so distant from men," he murmurs quietly while packing his bag.
"But she's completely different around women."
He smiles to himself.
"So composed."
Little does Basit know that while he remains seated, lost in thought...
Rihannat is already on a bus heading home.
When she arrives at her modest off-campus apartment, she places her bag beside the sofa and heads straight for the bathroom.
The cool water washes away the exhaustion of the day.
After changing into comfortable clothes, she reaches for her phone and calls home.
Her mother answers almost immediately.
"My daughter!" she exclaims warmly. "How are you? How is school?"
Rihannat smiles.
"I'm fine, Mum. Everything is going well. I submitted an assignment today."
In the background, she hears her father's familiar voice asking about her studies.
Just as always.
They never fail to ask.
They never stop caring.
Although she studies on a full scholarship, her parents still try their best to support her.
But Rihannat dislikes becoming a financial burden to her old parents who rely on pension. They had her late, according to what she was told.
Allah has blessed her with remarkable artistic talent.
She paints portraits.
Creates beautiful landscapes.
Designs simple graphics for fellow students.
She is also skilled in calligraphy and photography.
The little income she earns from those talents, rather than selling her beauty, comfortably covers her personal expenses.
It gives her independence.
And dignity.
After discussing school and family matters, her mother's tone becomes noticeably softer.
"There have been marriage proposals," she says carefully.
"They're good men. Wealthy men. Alhamdulillah, you're almost done with university. Marriage could ease your burdens. What do you think, my daughter?"
Rihannat closes her eyes.
Again.
The same conversation.
"Mum," she says gently, "I know you only want what's best for me."
"We do."
"But these men notice my beauty before anything else."
She pauses.
"What happens when that beauty fades?"
"Will they still love me?"
"Will they still cherish me?"
Silence answers her.
"I don't want a man who chooses me because of my appearance."
"I want someone who values my mind... my character... my deen."
She smiles softly.
"Allah has never abandoned me."
"He provided this scholarship."
"He blessed me with my talent."
"He continues to provide through the little I earn."
"This is only a season."
"I'll get through it."
"And I'll make you and Abu proud, in shaa Allah."
Her father's gentle voice comes from the background.
"We trust your judgment, Rihannat."
Emotion warms her heart.
"I love both of you so much."
"Please don't worry about me."
Knowing her mother will continue persuading her, Rihannat lovingly ends the call.
She places her phone on the bedside table before lying down.
The room falls silent.
Her thoughts drift—not toward marriage proposals or wealthy suitors—but toward the unfinished painting leaning against the wall.
Then, unexpectedly...
Basit's question about their project resurfaces.
She stares at the ceiling.
"Why does he always look at me like that?"
She immediately shakes her head.
"No distractions."
Just as she is about to sleep, her phone rings again.
Unknown Number.
She frowns before answering.
"Hello?"
A cheerful male voice speaks immediately.
"So you didn't save my number? Babe, why are you doing this? At least pity this poor soul. Just give me one chance. Your love is killi—"
"Don't ever call this number again."
She ends the call before he can finish.
With a weary sigh, she tosses the phone onto the bed.
This is not unusual.
Ever since her first year at the university, countless boys have tried to get close to her.
Some approach respectfully.
Others refuse to accept rejection.
They compliment her beauty.
Ask for her number.
Buy gifts.
Invite her out.
Some even mock her principles.
"You'll change one day."
"You're too serious."
"Life is meant to be enjoyed."
A few try drawing her into emotional relationships she knows will only end in regret.
Late-night conversations.
Secret meetings.
Unnecessary attachments.
She has watched some of her friends lose themselves that way.
Simple conversations gradually become emotional dependence.
Temptation follows.
Then heartbreak.
Long ago, Rihannat made a promise to herself.
She is not perfect.
But she fears Allah.
And she values the peace that comes from guarding her heart.
A notification interrupts her thoughts.
Another message from the same number.
Ree babe, please just give me a chance, okay? Can you send me your account number?
She stares at the screen.
A tired laugh escapes her lips.
As though money could purchase genuine affection.
Without replying, she blocks the number immediately.
Then she looks toward the ceiling and whispers softly,
"Ya Allah... protect my heart and keep me steadfast upon Your path."
A comforting peace settles over her.
She switches off the lamp, pulls the blanket over herself, and slowly drifts into sleep.
Outside, the night deepens peacefully—
Unaware that tomorrow's meeting will begin unraveling emotions neither Rihannat nor Basit has anticipated.
And somewhere across the city, Basit lies awake beneath the same night sky, staring at his ceiling...
Wondering how to step into a world that Rihannat has guarded so carefully.
— @OlukoyaZainab