Chapter 3: The Assembly Warning
The assembly ground was unusually silent.
Ify stood among the teachers on the raised platform, watching as the entire student body stood in neat lines under the morning sun. Normally, there would be whispers, giggles, and the occasional shuffling of feet, but today, no one dared to speak.
The events of the previous night still hung in the air like a storm cloud waiting to burst.
At the front of the assembly, Madam Uche adjusted her glasses, her expression unreadable. The microphone in her hand crackled to life as she cleared her throat.
"Good morning, students."
"Good morning, Ma!" the students chorused back, their voices less energetic than usual.
Madam Uche's gaze swept over the sea of faces.
"I am standing here this morning," she began, her voice steady, "because some of you seem to have forgotten what it means to be a student of Saint Raphael's Academy."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some girls shifted nervously, others looked down at their shoes.
"If I ever hear," Madam Uche continued, her voice rising, "that any student has broken the school's rules again—if I so much as catch a whisper about anyone sneaking out of their dormitories during lights out..."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.
"...that student will face the full consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
A scattered chorus of "Yes, Ma" followed.
"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
"Yes, Ma!" The response was louder, almost fearful.
Madam Uche sighed. "What happened last night should never have happened."
She glanced at Ify briefly before turning back to the students.
"If you value your health, your education, and your future in this school, you will obey the rules. Lights out is at 9 PM for a reason. No one—I repeat, NO ONE—should be found outside their dormitories after that time. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Ma!"
Ify noticed a group of SS2 girls stealing nervous glances at one another. They were likely friends of Tomi and Esther, the two girls who had encountered… whatever it was they saw last night.
Madam Uche continued. "I do not want to hear any more talk about—" She hesitated, gripping the microphone tighter. "—about nonsense stories. You are here to learn and become women of value, not to fill your heads with foolishness. Am I clear?"
A few students nodded slowly, but Ify could feel it in the air.
The fear.
The doubt.
The whispers hadn't stopped.
And Madam Uche knew it.
---
As soon as the assembly ended, the students poured into their classrooms, their usual morning routine overshadowed by what had happened the night before.
Ify barely made it into the teachers' lounge before she was approached by two students from her class.
"Miss Okonkwo?"
She turned to see Aisha and Chioma, both looking uncertain but determined.
"Yes?" Ify said, setting her lesson plan on the table.
Aisha hesitated before speaking.
"Miss, are Tomi and Esther okay?"
Ify folded her arms. "They are recovering. But that is why you should all follow the rules. If they hadn't sneaked out, none of this would have happened."
"But, Miss…" Chioma fidgeted. "They didn't just fall sick like Madam Uche said, did they?"
Ify raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?"
Aisha lowered her voice, glancing around before speaking again.
"They saw her, Miss. They saw Miss Titi."
A cold chill ran down Ify's spine.
"Nonsense," she said quickly. "You girls are letting fear get the better of you."
"But it's true!" Chioma insisted. "I heard them before they passed out. They were screaming her name!"
Ify exhaled. "Girls, listen to me. There is no such thing as ghosts. Tomi and Esther were just—"
"Then why do the seniors say she still marks attendance at night?" Aisha asked, eyes wide.
Ify's heart skipped a beat.
"Excuse me?"
Chioma nodded. "The SS3 girls say that sometimes, in the middle of the night, if you listen closely, you'll hear her calling names—like she's taking roll call."
Aisha swallowed. "And if she calls your name and you answer…"
"If you answer," Chioma whispered, "you never wake up."
Ify stared at them, her throat dry.
These were just stories, weren't they? Tales meant to scare new students, passed down from one generation to the next.
And yet…
The chalk last night.
The words on her blackboard.
"Do you remember?"
Ify clenched her fists.
"This is exactly the kind of talk Madam Uche warned against," she said firmly. "You both should focus on your studies. Now, go back to class before I report you for loitering."
The girls reluctantly obeyed, casting one last wary glance at Ify before leaving.
She waited until they were gone before she sat down slowly, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"Marks attendance at night…"
She needed to speak to Madam Uche.
Now.
---
Ify found the headmistress in her office, scribbling something in a worn-out notebook.
"Madam Uche," Ify said, stepping in.
The older woman looked up, adjusting her glasses.
"Miss Okonkwo." She closed the book with a soft thud. "How can I help you?"
Ify didn't waste time. "The students are still talking about it. About Miss Titi."
Madam Uche sighed, rubbing her temples. "They always talk."
"They say she marks attendance at night."
The headmistress's hand froze in mid-motion.
A long silence stretched between them.
"Miss Okonkwo," Madam Uche finally said, choosing her words carefully, "this school has always had stories. But stories are not facts."
Ify narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure about that?"
"Do not start, Ifunanya," Madam Uche warned.
Ify inhaled sharply. "You know something, don't you?"
Madam Uche's face hardened. "What I know is that fear spreads like a disease. And I will not have it poisoning my students."
"But what if—"
"Let it go, Ifunanya," Madam Uche said, her voice final.
Ify studied her. The slight tension in her jaw. The way she gripped her pen too tightly.
She was hiding something.
But for now, Ify had no choice but to nod.
"As you say, Madam Uche."
She turned to leave. But just as she reached the door, Madam Uche spoke again.
"Ifunanya."
Ify glanced back.
The headmistress's eyes were sharp, piercing.
"Do not go looking for answers you are not ready to find."
The words sat heavy in the air.
Ify nodded once and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
But one thing was certain.
She would find answers.
Whether she was ready or not.