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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 6 min read
The Red Bottom Heels: Koi Koi
<p>Before the ghost, there was a woman.</p><p><br/></p><p>Before the heels echoed at 2:17am, they echoed at 10:05am — Literature Period.</p><p><br/></p><p>TwoCents International College.</p><p><br/></p><p>Air-conditioned classrooms.</p><p>Interactive smart boards.</p><p>Students who carried iPhones more expensive than their teachers’ salaries.</p><p><br/></p><p>And at the front of SS2 Gold stood <strong>Esther Lawrence</strong>.</p><p><br/></p><p>Red bottoms.</p><p>Tailored skirt.</p><p>Voice steady enough to cut glass.</p><p><br/></p><p>She did not shout.</p><p><br/></p><p>That was the unsettling part.</p><p><br/></p><p>She corrected you quietly.</p><p>Publicly.</p><p>Precisely.</p><p><br/></p><p>And in a school where reputation was currency, public correction felt like execution.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The First Fracture</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>It was a Monday.</p><p><br/></p><p>Essay presentations.</p><p><br/></p><p>Topic: <em>Power and Corruption in Modern Society.</em></p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Dolapo Oludairo</strong> stood confidently.</p><p><br/></p><p>Board member’s daughter.</p><p>Fluent.</p><p>Untouchable.</p><p><br/></p><p>She read beautifully.</p><p><br/></p><p>Too beautifully.</p><p><br/></p><p>Esther Lawrence listened.</p><p>Did not blink.</p><p>Did not interrupt.</p><p><br/></p><p>When Dolapo finished, expecting applause, Esther walked slowly toward her desk.</p><p><br/></p><p>Heels striking tile.</p><p><br/></p><p><em>Koi</em>.</p><p><br/></p><p>A small sound.</p><p>But it lingered.</p><p><br/></p><p>She placed a printed sheet on Dolapo’s table.</p><p><br/></p><p>Highlighted paragraphs.</p><p><br/></p><p>Word for word from an online journal.</p><p><br/></p><p>Plagiarism.</p><p><br/></p><p>The class went silent.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo’s smile faltered.</p><p><br/></p><p>And that was the first humiliation.</p><p><br/></p><p>Across the room, <strong>Toluwalase Soyinka</strong> lowered her gaze.</p><p><br/></p><p>She knew Dolapo would not take that lightly.</p><p><br/></p><p>At the back, <strong>Abiodun Ogunseye</strong> clenched his jaw.</p><p><br/></p><p>No one embarrassed his girlfriend.</p><p><br/></p><p>No one.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The Warning Signs</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>Over the next weeks, things shifted.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo began whispering during prep.</p><p>Gathering sympathy.</p><p><br/></p><p>“She hates me.”</p><p>“She targets me.”</p><p>“She’s obsessed.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Girls in the dormitory listened.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Delight Anumba</strong> believed her instantly.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Felicitas Atauyo </strong>wasn’t sure.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Ivy-Gabrielle Ezemichael</strong> stayed neutral — but she watched.</p><p><br/></p><p>Even <strong>Nimmatula Abdulsalami </strong>admitted privately that Madam was “too intense.”</p><p><br/></p><p>In the boys’ class, whispers spread.</p><p><br/></p><p><strong>Kelvin Michael </strong>defended the teacher once — quietly — but no one listened.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because narratives move faster than truth.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The Classroom Incident</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>It happened during after-school hour.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only four students remained.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo.</p><p>Toluwalase.</p><p>Nimmatula.</p><p>Ivy-Gabrielle.</p><p><br/></p><p>And Esther Lawrence.</p><p><br/></p><p>The topic had shifted from literature to discipline.</p><p><br/></p><p>Phones were confiscated.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo refused.</p><p><br/></p><p>There was a brief struggle.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not violent.</p><p><br/></p><p>But physical enough to be misinterpreted.</p><p><br/></p><p>A wrist held too firmly.</p><p>A voice raised slightly.</p><p><br/></p><p>And in that moment </p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo saw opportunity.</p><p><br/></p><p>Her phone camera was already recording.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not the beginning.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just the part where Esther’s grip looked aggressive.</p><p><br/></p><p>The perfect angle.</p><p><br/></p><p>The perfect lie.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The Petition</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>By Thursday, screenshots circulated.</p><p><br/></p><p>Edited.</p><p>Cropped.</p><p>Reframed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Parents were called.</p><p><br/></p><p>By Friday afternoon, <strong>Tobi Igbinedion</strong> had summoned Esther Lawrence.</p><p><br/></p><p>Present:</p><p>Deborah Melissa David.</p><p>Dolapo’s mother on speaker.</p><p>An “external consultant” — <strong>Dr. Mo Ameer</strong>.</p><p><br/></p><p>The accusation was carefully worded:</p><p><br/></p><p>“Inappropriate conduct.”</p><p>“Emotional intimidation.”</p><p>“Physical aggression.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Esther did not cry.</p><p><br/></p><p>She did not beg.</p><p><br/></p><p>She simply asked one question:</p><p><br/></p><p>“Did you review the full recording?”</p><p><br/></p><p>No one answered.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because there was no full recording.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only the edited one.</p><p><br/></p><p>Optics demanded sacrifice.</p><p><br/></p><p>And so she was sacrificed.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The Day She Left</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>Students watched from balconies.</p><p><br/></p><p>Dolapo stood in front.</p><p><br/></p><p>Satisfied.</p><p><br/></p><p>Esther Lawrence carried one box.</p><p><br/></p><p>As she walked past the corridor, her heels echoed again.</p><p><em><strong><br/></strong></em></p><p><em style="">Koi</em>.</p><p><br/></p><p>Slower this time.</p><p><br/></p><p>She stopped.</p><p><br/></p><p>Looked up.</p><p><br/></p><p>Directly at Dolapo.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not angry.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just wounded.</p><p><br/></p><p>“You have no idea what you’ve started.”</p><p><br/></p><p>It wasn’t a threat.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was prophecy.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><h3><strong>The Night Before the Accident</strong></h3><p><br/></p><p>Here is the part no one talks about.</p><p><br/></p><p>Security logs show something strange.</p><p><br/></p><p>After Esther left campus that evening, someone accessed the admin building.</p><p><br/></p><p>Keycard swipe registered under a student ID.</p><p><br/></p><p>Deleted later.</p><p><br/></p><p>But not before <strong>Samuel Ibok</strong> saw it.</p><p><br/></p><p>He mentioned it once.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was ignored.</p><p><br/></p><p>Because scandals are bad for admissions.</p><p><br/></p><p>And powerful parents do not like questions.</p><p><br/></p><p>Three weeks later—</p><p><br/></p><p>Third Mainland Bridge.</p><p><br/></p><p>Brake failure.</p><p><br/></p><p>Instant death.</p><p><br/></p><p>Case closed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Except…</p><p><br/></p><p>What if someone tampered with more than evidence?</p><p><br/></p><p>What if humiliation was not enough?</p><p><br/></p><p>What if someone needed silence?</p><p><br/></p><p>And what if the wrong person died?</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><p><br/></p><p>Now the real question becomes:</p><p><br/></p><p>Did Madam Koi Koi come back for revenge?</p><p><br/></p><p>Or did someone create a ghost to hide a crime?</p><p><br/></p><p>Because in Episode I…</p><p><br/></p><p>She killed.</p><p><br/></p><p>But in Episode II…</p><p><br/></p><p>We begin to see that maybe she was killed first.</p><p><br/></p><p>And in the next episode </p><p><br/></p><p>We uncover the accident night.</p><p><br/></p><p>The missing footage.</p><p><br/></p><p>The student who was never questioned.</p><p><br/></p><p>And the secret relationship nobody knew about.</p><p><br/></p><p>The sound didn’t start in the dormitory.</p><p><br/></p><p>It started in that classroom.</p><p><br/></p><p><em>Koi</em>.</p><p><br/></p>

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