Chapter 7: Earned Her Respect
948 Words
Respect is not something you beg for.
You don’t wear it like a cloth. You don’t cry for it. You don’t even fight for it sometimes.
You earn it. And sometimes, it takes pain, patience, and plenty of silence before people even start to notice.
But when it finally comes… it’s worth every single second of being overlooked.
---
The Quiet Girl in the Quiz
The day of the school quiz came fast.
I wore my neatest uniform. Pressed it myself the night before. Polished my sandals too. Packed my notes and my confidence.
Maryam smiled at me when I arrived at school. “Are you ready?”
I nodded. But my stomach was full of butterflies.
During the assembly, the head teacher called our names — mine and the boy from SS1A, Abdul Lateef.
We walked to the front together.
Everyone clapped, but I heard a few whispers from behind.
“Is she the best they could find?”
“She’ll be too shy to talk.”
“Let’s see how this goes.”
I heard it. But I didn’t let it enter my heart.
Maryam gave me a thumbs-up from the crowd.
And that was enough for me.
---
The First Round
We were in the school hall. Teachers sat at one side, the quiz master in the middle. Students formed a circle around the room.
When it was my turn, I stood up.
The question came. Something about Nigeria’s independence.
I answered it slowly, clearly, with my hands folded neatly.
No panic.
Just truth.
The quiz master nodded. “Correct.”
I sat down.
Whispers started again, but this time they were different.
“She got it right.”
“She didn’t even shake.”
“That was sharp.”
My respect had started to grow.
---
After the Quiz
We didn’t win first place, but we came second. Very close.
Teachers came around to shake our hands. Even the principal smiled and said, “Well done, young lady.”
Some students came to ask how I prepared. Others came to look at me properly, like they were just seeing me for the first time.
Someone said, “I didn’t know she was this smart.”
Someone else replied, “She’s been smart. You just didn’t notice.”
That moment? That was when I knew.
> I had earned their respect. Not by changing who I was, but by staying who I was.
---
Respect is Quiet
Respect didn’t come with fanfare. Nobody carried me on their shoulders. There were no drums.
But I noticed it in the little ways.
The way people stopped interrupting me when I spoke.
The way some classmates waited for my opinion during group work.
The way even the noisiest boys didn’t mock my hijab again.
It was quiet.
But it was real.
---
Teacher's Note
One day, my IRS teacher returned a marked assignment and called me aside.
She gave me my paper — full marks — and added a small sticky note on it.
It read:
> "You are not just intelligent, Rukoyyah. You are respected. Don’t lose what makes you different."
I folded the paper and held it close to my chest.
That day, I didn’t write in my notebook.
I didn’t need to.
Because her words were already written in my heart.
---
The Same Girls
Even the girls who once mocked me started acting differently.
They didn’t exactly become friends. But they greeted. They smiled. Some even asked for help with classwork.
One of them, Ada, the same one who called me “too holy,” tapped me after class.
She said, “I judged you wrongly. You’re cool.”
I didn’t hold anger. I smiled and said, “It’s okay.”
She added, “You’ve changed sha.”
I looked at her. “I didn’t change. You just started seeing me.”
She paused, then nodded slowly. “Maybe.”
---
Sisterhood
Through all of it, Maryam was always by my side.
We still ate under our tree. Still prayed behind the admin block. Still reminded each other of who we were.
She said, “You’re a lion in quiet skin, Rukoyyah.”
I laughed. “What about you?”
She said, “I’m your reminder. Whenever you forget your voice, I’ll help you find it.”
I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like her.
But every time I looked at her, I said, “Alhamdulillah.”
---
A New Label
Before, they used to call me:
The new girl
The hijabi girl
The one who doesn’t talk
Now, they called me:
The smart girl
The quiz girl
The one who knows her stuff
But the truth? I didn’t care what they called me anymore.
Because I had already named myself:
> Respectful. Confident. Unapologetically Muslim.
---
Final Scene
One Friday, during Jumu’ah break, I stood outside with Maryam.
A junior student walked up to us shyly.
She was covered like us, but she looked afraid.
She said, “They laugh at me for wearing socks. They say I’m overdoing it.”
I smiled gently.
Maryam said, “Ignore them. You’re doing the right thing.”
I added, “They’ll laugh until they realise you’re stronger than them.”
The girl smiled and walked away.
Maryam looked at me and said, “Do you realise what just happened?”
I said, “No.”
She replied, “You’ve become someone’s strength now.”
I breathed deeply. My eyes became misty.
I looked up at the sky and whispered:
> Ya Allah, thank You. I am no longer invisible. I have earned their respect. But more importantly… I now respect myself.
- Writer
