Chapter 4 – Monday Morning, 7:58 a.m.

The bell hadn’t gone off yet, but the classroom already felt different like the air right before a storm hits, all static and waiting.

Ms. Adeyemi walked in at 7:57 wearing that navy wrap dress Khalid had brought up weeks ago. The one that clung to her hips and dipped just low enough at the neckline to make focusing impossible on a regular day. Today definitely wasn’t regular.

She set her bag on the teacher’s desk with slow, careful movements, opened her lesson plan folder, and started writing the day’s objectives on the board in her neat, slanted handwriting:

Things Fall Apart Post-Colonial Themes & Character Motivation

Objective: By the end of the period, you will analyse Okonkwo’s internal conflict using textual evidence.

Seventeen boys came in quieter than usual. No pushing, no last second scrolling on phones. They just slid into their seats without a word.

Khalid took front row centre tie knotted perfectly, eyes already fixed on her.

Chidi sat two rows back on the left fidgeting with his pen cap, leg bouncing under the desk like he couldn’t sit still.

Tobi was by the window arms crossed, trying hard to look bored and failing completely.

Yusuf stayed in the back corner hoodie up, but she could still feel how his gaze followed her every move.

She finished at the board, turned, and scanned the room slowly.

“Good morning, class.”

A messy chorus of “Good morning, Ms. Adeyemi.”

She gave them her usual small, polite, professional Monday smile.

Then she sat on the edge of her desk, legs crossed, one high heel dangling loose.

“Before we start,” she said, voice soft enough that they all had to lean in a little, “quick reminder: phones on silent and in your bags. No distractions today.”

A few boys shifted, reached into pockets. The four of them without her even asking placed their phones face down on the front corner of their desks, screens black.

She noticed. Of course she did.

“Excellent,” she murmured. “Now open your books to chapter twelve.”

The lesson went almost like normal.

She asked questions. Hands went up. Answers came sharp and right. Khalid quoted Achebe word for word. Chidi dropped a quick, smart point about masculinity and shame. Tobi linked it to current Nigerian politics. Yusuf quiet like always said one short, heavy line about colonial violence that made the whole room go still for a second.

But underneath it all, everything buzzed.

Every time she bent to pick up a dropped eraser, four pairs of eyes tracked the line of her thighs.

Every time she turned to write on the board, she could feel their stares settle on the small of her back, on the curve where the dress met her ass.

Every time the word “symbolism” came out of her mouth, Khalid’s lips twitched into that same private smile from Friday.

At 8:32 she called for group work.

“Form your usual four person groups. Ten minutes. Talk about how Okonkwo’s fear of weakness drives everything he does. Then we’ll share.”

The room rearranged itself.

Khalid, Chidi, Tobi, and Yusuf ended up in the back right corner exactly the spot where they’d stood on Friday while she was on her knees.

She walked the aisles with her clipboard, listening in on the other groups. When she got to their table, she stopped.

“Report,” she said, keeping her voice even.

Khalid spoke first, calm as anything.

“He’s more afraid of looking weak than he is of dying. That’s why he kills Ikemefuna. It’s not just following tradition it’s his own terror of seeming soft like his father.”

She nodded. “Good. Evidence?”

Chidi flipped pages fast. “Page 61. ‘He heard Ikemefuna cry, “My father, they have killed me!” as he ran towards him. Dazed with fear, Okonkwo drew his machete and cut him down.’”

She leaned over the table to look at the page he was pointing to. Her breasts brushed the wood. All four of them sucked in a breath at the same time.

“Excellent,” she said. “Tobi?”

Tobi swallowed. “The fear makes him stiff. He can’t bend, so he ends up breaking everything around him.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “And what happens when something refuses to break?”

His pupils went wide. “It… reshapes him instead.”

She straightened up. “Exactly.”

Then she turned to Yusuf, who still hadn’t said anything.

“Yusuf?”

He met her gaze dark, steady. “He thinks control equals strength. But control snaps first when desire shows up.”

The silence after that was thick enough to chew.

She tapped her pen once on the clipboard.

“Very insightful.” Her voice dropped, just for them. “All four of you stay after class for… extra discussion. I think you’re ready for the advanced stuff.”

Four heads nodded. Nobody blinked.

The bell rang at 8:55.

Students packed up, talked, left.

The four stayed right where they were.

She closed the door. Locked it. Pulled the blinds halfway enough light to see by, not enough for anyone outside to see clearly.

Then she walked back to her desk, sat in the teacher’s chair, and parted her legs just enough that the wrap dress fell open over one thigh, showing the same black lace from Friday noticeably damper now.

“Phones,” she said.

They put them in the basket by the door without a word.

“Shirts.”

Buttons popped open. Fabric hit the floor.

“Pants.”

Belts clinked. Zippers came down.

She crooked one finger.

They came forward single file, stopping just short of her chair.

She looked up at them, eyes bright.

“Friday was the warm up,” she said softly. “Today we start the real lesson plan.”

She reached out and hooked a finger under Khalid’s waistband first always first.

“Lesson one,” she whispered. “Delayed gratification.”

She tugged him closer until his cock brushed her lips through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“None of you come until I’ve come three times. If anyone breaks that rule…” She smiled slow. “You spend the rest of the week watching while the others get to play.”

She looked at each one in turn.

“Do we understand the assignment?”

Four rough, almost reverent voices answered together.

“Yes, Ms. Adeyemi.”

She leaned back, spread her legs wider, and opened the dress completely.

“Then get on your knees.”

All four dropped at once.

And the Monday morning “extra discussion” officially started.