Dignitas

Dignity

As she walked, she pulled out her phone to text her mum, letting her know she was on her way home. The fresh air and gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, filling Chloe with a sense of relocation and freedom. She turned the corner onto her street, the familiar sight of her house coming into view.

Then Chloe approached the front door, she noticed something peculiar. She smiled knowing her mom was probably waiting for her inside. She pushed open the door and called out "hey, mom! I'm home." The aroma of freshly baked pancake waffled from the kitchen. Her dad had travel overseas for business his company chose him to represent as an ambassador. Her mom appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on her face.

"Hey sweetie, how was your day?" Chloe dropped her bag on the floor and walked over to give her mom a hug.

"It was good," she said feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over her.

Chloe followed her mom into the kitchen, where a plate of freshly baked pancakes sitting on the counter. Her mom poured her a glass of cold juice and Chloe sat down at the table, feeling grateful for this quiet moment with her mom. As they munched on pancakes and chatted about their day, Chloe felt her worries and stress melting away. She loved these everyday moments with her mom, when it felt like nothing else mattered except being together.

While they were talking, Chloe remembered Sharon.

“Sharon was suspended today. An immediate action.

Mrs. Ada was shocked on hearing the news. Wandering what might be the cause.

“How is that possible? this is just the second day of resumption.”

“Well… it’s a long story, but to cut it short, out of anger and frustration caused by Charlotte, she called the M.D a twerp” Chloe said. Still munching on the pancake.

“But that’s too harsh, why will she say such,”

“I don’t blame her to be honest. Charlotte started it by lying against I and Fiyin, that Fiyin is copying me and I'm helping her back.”

“Hmmm. Dignitas” Mrs. Ada sighed. “So, for how long is the suspension going to last?”

“For just three days”

“That’s way too far, how about Fiyin?”

“She too also got suspended but not with immediate action. And they both have to write a letter to the Board of Management before they can resume back when their suspension is over”

“Then if that’s the case I’m going to the school with you and Sharon tomorrow. That principal must be really crazy” Mrs. Ada said now her voice already getting high and strict.

“Charlotte wasn’t even given any punishment despite all that she said”

“Wahala”

As they finished their snacks, Chloe’s mum asked her about her plans for the weekend and listened attentively. Chloe felt heard and understood, knowing that her mum was always there to support her. After a while, Chloe’s mum glanced at the clock.

“I’d better start dinner. How about pasta with marina sauce?”

Chloe’s stomach growled in anticipation as she nodded enthusiastically. She helped her mum set the table and chop vegetables, feeling content and at peace in the warm and cozy.

Minutes later

“What are you doing?” her mum asked, the wooden spoon paused mid-stir over the pot of simmering marina sauce.

Chloe didn’t answer right away. She was holding the chef’s knife at an angle against the cutting board, running her thumb just above the blade to test it. The light from the kitchen bulb caught the edge and threw a thin silver line across the counter. Outside the window the sky had gone from pale afternoon to that deep, heavy orange that comes just before evening.

“Checking if it’s sharp,” she said finally, setting the knife down a little too hard. “The onions. Don’t want to crush them.”

Her mum didn’t look convinced. She turned the heat down on the sauce, the bubbles slowing from a boil to a gentle plop. The smell of garlic and basil filled the kitchen, mixing with the faint scent of rain coming in through the cracked window.

“You know you only do that when you’re thinking too hard,” her mum said. “And thinking too hard after what happened today is how fingers get cut.” She reached over and moved the knife aside, out of reach. “Sit.”

Chloe slid onto the stool at the counter but didn’t sit properly. She perched on the edge like she might get up and leave at any second.

“So,” her mum went on, scooping pasta into the boiling water. “Sharon. Suspended. Second day of term. For calling the Managing Director’s daughter a twerp.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Chloe said quickly. “The MD’s daughter said Sharon and the rest of us are twerps. I was still trying to shun her. Sharon heard her and… she lost it. Called her father a twerp. Then the Principal said Sharon had no home training, and that her father didn't train her well."

Her mum’s jaw tightened. “The principal went too far. And Sharon repeated it back, I’m sure.”

“Word for word.” The daughter picked at the edge of the counter. “Now they’ve sent her home. And the Principal said it’ll be on her record.”

The pot hissed as her mum drained the pasta and dumped it into the sauce. She stirred it all together, the red coating, the strands in thick, glossy ribbons. For a while the only sound was the spoon against the pan.

“You know,” her mum said without looking up, “your grandfather was suspended in his second week of secondary school. For the same reason.”

The daughter looked up. “He was?”

“Fought the proprietor’s son. proprietor’s son said grandfather’s sister was a thief. Grandfather didn’t ask questions. He just swung.” Her mum plated two bowls of pasta and slid one across to her daughter. “He said he didn’t regret it. But he did regret that his mother had to walk three miles to the school to plead for him, in the rain.”

The daughter stared at the bowl but didn’t pick up her fork. “I don’t want my mum walking anywhere to plead for me and Sharon’s mum for her.”

“Good.” Her mum wiped her hands on a towel and sat down across from her. “Because you won’t. Not this time.”

Just then the kitchen door swung open and a phone buzzed on the counter, Chloe’s. She glanced at it. ‘New message: Unknown number. ‘This is Praise. I said by 7, Remember?’

She exhaled. “That’s Praise. The new guy. From my class. He said he’d call by 7 to talk.”

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “The same hour we’ll be eating?”

The daughter nodded, already feeling the knot in her stomach loosen a fraction.

“Eat first,” her mum said, nodding at the pasta. “Then you can chat with Praise. But don’t spend the whole night on that phone.” So, Chloe texted him back to chat by 9pm.

You still have to write the apology letter draft for your cousin before bed.”

Chloe frowned. “I’m not writing it for her.”

“No,” her mum said. “You’re writing it with her. There’s a difference. She can’t see it yet, but you can. She’s too angry to see that how you say something matters as much as what you say. Romans knew that. Cicero built his whole life on it.”

“Not you quoting Romans again,” the daughter muttered, but she took a bite of pasta anyway. The sauce was sharp, garlicky, just the way she liked it.

Her mum smiled a little. “Someone has to. If not me, who?”

9:08pm

The house had gone quiet. The only light in Chloe’s room was the blue glow of her phone and the small lamp on her desk, casting a soft circle over the half finished apology letter she started not long ago.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number: She answered the call “This is Praise. You said 9pm?”

Chloe sat up, tucking her knees under the duvet. She’d almost forgotten. Math’s class this morning, the new boy with the calm voice and the slightly crooked school tie. He’d asked if she wanted to go over mathematics question together after school. He’d said 7pm as a joke, not thinking he’d actually call.

She answered. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Praise.” His voice came through low, a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he’d interrupted something. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. The network is terrible during the day.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe said, and immediately wished she sounded less stiff. “I was just… thinking.”

“About the suspension? Or about quadratics?” he asked, and there was a small laugh in it, not mocking, just careful.

Chloe caught herself before she sighed. “Both. Mostly the first one.”

There was a pause. Outside, the rain had stopped but the roof was still dripping, tick… tick… tick.

“Of what had happened today, Fiyin told me at break.” Praise said. “Not the details. Just that it was unfair.”

Chloe frowned. “Fiyin talks a lot.”

“She does.” Praise didn’t deny it.

That made Chloe blink. No one had mentioned that part today. Not the principal. Not her mum. Not even her cousin.

“I didn’t do it for credit,” she muttered. “I just hate seeing people struggle with Latin when it’s just memorization.”

“Still counts,” Praise said. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like your cousin. I mean, you didn’t call anyone a twerp.”

Chloe actually smiled at that, despite herself. It was small, and it didn’t reach her eyes, but it was there. She pressed her lips together like she could hold it in.

Praise noticed. “There. You smiled.”

“I didn’t” Chloe stared, then stopped. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s a victory.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from the lamp. “I’m not supposed to be smiling today. My cousin got suspended because of me. Because I was assisting my friend with some things and one i***t twisted it into lies, and because I didn’t shut up when I should have.”

Praise was quiet for a moment. Then: “My mum says smiling isn’t about pretending nothing happened. She says it’s about reminding yourself that one bad day doesn’t get to be the whole story.”

Chloe didn’t answer right away. The words were simple, almost too simple. But something about the way he said it, no pity, no lecture, made the tightness in her chest ease a fraction.

“My mum says something similar,” Chloe said finally. “She calls it Dignitas. Dignity. Says you don’t let people take it from you.”

“Your mum sounds wise,” Praise said. “And Roman.”

Chloe laughed this time, a real short laugh. “She reads too much.”

There was another pause, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt like the kind of pause you get when you’re sitting next to someone and you don’t need to fill the air.

“So,” Praise said after a bit. “We haven’t actually introduced ourselves properly. I’m Praise. I moved here from Kebbi two weeks ago. I’m terrible at French but I’m good at math. And I think jollof is better than fried rice. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Chloe smiled again, this time without trying to hide it. “I’m Chloe. I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m decent at Latin but terrible at pretending I’m okay when I’m not. And I agree about jollof.”

“Good,” Praise said. “That’s important. We can’t be friends if we disagree on jollof.”

Chloe shook her head, still smiling. “We’re not friends yet.”

“Not yet,” Praise agreed. “But maybe in an hour? Or tomorrow in class when I save you a seat?”

The knot in Chloe’s stomach, the one that had been there since her cousin got sent home, loosened. For the first time all day, the suspension, the MD’s daughter, the letter on her desk… they didn’t feel like the only thing in the room.

“Save me a seat,” she said. “But don’t expect me to talk to you if you’re late.”

“I’ll be early,” Praise said. “First-at-love sight rule. You show up early for the people you don’t want to disappoint.”

Chloe froze. First-at-love sight She wasn’t sure if he meant it as a joke or not, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Her face felt warm.

“Goodnight, Praise,” she said quickly, before she could overthink it.

Immediately, she heard a knock on the door “who’s that” she asked

“It’s Sharon.”

“Sharon!”, Chloe said surprisingly. She stood up to open the door. Praise had also paused knowing what Chloe is going to do.

“Welcome” she said, why are you here?” Shifting away from the door side.

“It’s a long story, I can’t explain, I’m too tired for that. I need to go to bed. Sharon said as she fell backward and slept off.

“Goodnight, Chloe,” he replied. “And Chloe… you don’t have to get over today. You just have to get through it. The smiling will come on its own.”

But for the first time since the afternoon, Chloe’s mouth had curved upward without her forcing it.

The day had still been awful.

When the call ended the daughter put her phone down and looked at the half-finished letter on her desk. To the Management of St. Theresa’s Academy.

It sounded stiff and wrong. She crossed it out and started again: I acted out of anger, and I regret the disrespect…

She didn’t finish it. Sleep came before the second sentence.

Next Morning

The rain from yesterday had cleared, leaving the air cool and the compound smelling like wet earth. Chloe woke to the sound of her mum in the kitchen again, this time frying plantain. She had finished the letter when she woke up in the midnight.

Sharon was already at the table; she came to sleep over last night so she could go to school together with Chloe. Hair tied up in a scarf, wearing one of her mum’s old cardigans. The apology letter lay between them, two pages of cramped handwriting with crossings-out and arrows.

“It doesn’t sound like me,” Sharon said the moment Chloe walked in. “It sounds like a lawyer wrote it.”

“Because you kept wanting to add ‘and the MD’s daughter started it’,” Chloe said, pouring herself water. “You can’t put that in an apology.”

“You can’t put ‘I regret’ either,” Sharon shot back. “I don’t regret it. I regret getting caught.”

Her mum set a plate of plantain down between them. “You’ll regret it more if you’re expelled,” she said simply. “Eat. Then we go. I’m taking you both to the office. Sharon to submit the letter, you, to make sure she doesn’t start another fight before she goes back home.”

Chloe glanced at her cousin, Sharon. Her cousin glanced back. Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew, this wasn’t over. The MD’s daughter wouldn’t let it go, and so as Sharon.

But for now, there was hot plantain, and a letter that was at least 60% honest, and a seat that praise said he’d save.

Her mum watched them both, then added quietly, “And if the principal says anything about your father again, you tell him to come say it to me directly. Romans had a word for that too. Dignitas. Dignity. You don’t let anyone take it from you. Not without a fight.”

Chloe picked up her fork, but her mind was already on the classroom, on the empty seat next to hers that Praise had said he’d save.

Her cousin caught the look. “Who were you smiling at last night?”

“Nobody, I thought you slept off immediately you fell on the bed” Chloe said too fast, and took a big bite of plantain to avoid saying more

“I don’t just sleep like a wood, I saw you smiling before you dropped your phone, then that was when I slept off”

“Spy” Chloe said as she took another bite of plantain.

St. Theresa’s International Academy

The gates of St. Theresa’s were brushed steel and tinted glass, with a digital board above that read “Excellence | Integrity | Legacy” in gold lettering.

Valet attendants in crisp navy uniforms directed traffic as sleek SUVs and GLE rolled in, dropping off students in spotless uniforms. The air smelled like expensive coffee from the school café and fresh cut grass from the manicured lawns.

Chloe walked beside her mum and Sharon, but she felt completely out of place. Her blazer was clean but slightly wrinkled from being slept in. Sharon’s cardigan looked even more out of place next to the designer backpacks and limited edition sneakers the other students were wearing.

The entrance lobby was a double height atrium with a chandelier and a live LED screen scrolling school announcements: “Robotics Club Wins National Competition” → “Piano Recital This Friday” → “Suspension Notice: Year 11”.

That last one made Chloe’s stomach drop. Sharon clutched the brown envelope tighter. “They put it on the screen,” she muttered. “They didn’t even wait.”

Mrs. Ada didn’t respond. She just smoothed down Sharon’s scarf and straightened Chloe’s collar. “Heads up. Shoulders back. We don’t shrink for anyone.”

The secretary at the front desk looked up from her iPad. She was young, polished, wearing a blazer with the school crest in gold thread. “Mrs. Ada? The MD and The Principal are waiting in the boardroom. Not the principal’s office. They moved it.”

Mrs. Ada’s jaw tightened slightly. “Boardroom. I see.”

That wasn’t standard procedure. The boardroom was for major disciplinary cases. Expulsions. Financial disputes. Not for a Year 11 student who called someone a twerp.

Chloe caught it too. “Mum”

“We’re fine,” Mrs. Ada said quietly. “Walk with me.”

They took the stairs to the second floor. The stair itself had a glass wall by their overlooking the courtyard where students were lounging on designer outdoor furniture, sipping smoothies from the school café.

Sharon whispered, “This place feels like a hotel, not a school.”

“It’s supposed to,” Chloe replied. “That’s why parents pay such a huge amount of money.”

The boardroom doors were mahogany with frosted glass. Inside, the air conditioning hit like a wall. The long table was polished dark wood, with leather chairs and a 75inch screen on the wall currently displaying the school crest.

Mr. Williams sat at the head of the table with his tablet open. Mr. Okunade was at his right, wearing a tailored grey suit with a silver tie pin. Charlotte sat beside him, in full uniform with her hair perfectly styled, scrolling on her iPhone like she wasn’t in trouble at all.

And standing by the window was the school lawyer, a man in a charcoal suit with a file folder under his arm.

Chloe’s chest tightened. A lawyer. For a twerp comment.