TAMARA'S POV
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The bell rings nonstop—probably for ten minutes straight—its sharp echo vibrating through my ears until they almost buzz like I've just come out of a loud concert.
"What the heck! Why are you putting two buckets? Are you going to bathe with both?" I hear someone shouting.
Wait… where are they shouting from?
People are running, buckets clanging against each other as they move.
"No, this one is for someone else!" another voice yells back.
"That person could've just woken up early and come to the tap like everyone else! Imagine running that much just to be first in line, then finding two buckets in front of you—how would you feel?"
A few murmurs of agreement follow.
"Everyone here is busy, and nobody's special! Just bring one bucket, fetch your water, and go!" the same voice continues. "This isn't fair because—"
"Wakie wakie!"
Huh? I feel someone shaking me, but my eyes are still shut.
"Tamara, wakie wakie!" the voice says again.
"Wakie wakie!" a third time.
"Tamara, wake up!"
That startles me. I jump awake to see Lewinsky standing beside my bed.
"You were so dead asleep! The bell rang like thirty minutes ago," she says.
"What? Which bell?" I mumble.
"The morning bell, you fool," she teases.
I glance at Shekina—still sleeping peacefully. I guess I've found my sleeping partner. Now who's going to wake who if both of us love sleep this much?
"Shekina, wake up!" I slap her arm hard, half annoyed.
"Ouch! That hurts!" she groans. "I was already awake—I heard the bell!"
"Oh, my bad, sorry," I say, scratching my head. "Then why didn't you wake me up?"
"Mr. Duke said we should be in class by 7 a.m., and the bell rang at 4:50," she says, already lying back down. "So I went back to sleep—it's too early."
I check my watch. 5:20 a.m.
Outside the window, I see girls fetching water, some running toward the bathrooms. Around the dorm, many are still in bed; only a few are awake.
Then I notice Lewinsky taking her bucket.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
"For water, madam. You can go back to bed—it's still early," she replies.
"Then why did you wake me up if you knew it was early?" I ask, half irritated.
"Early bird catches…" she says, pausing mid-sentence with a sly grin.
"Okay, fine," I sigh. "After you come back from fetching your water, wake me up so I can go for mine."
"Alright," she says, walking off with Natasha, of course.
At least I have two serious roommates. Shekina and I are saved.
I giggle quietly, then snuggle back into my blanket, dipping myself deeper into bed.
I tried to go back to sleep, but I think I can't. "I'll just cover myself for like five minutes then get up," I tell myself.
In just a second, I drag myself out of bed, my blanket still clinging to my legs. I grab my bucket and hurry out. The morning air is cold — that kind of cold that makes your ears hurt and your skin feel tight. The line at the tap is long, girls talking and laughing, steam rising from their breath. I stand there, hugging my bucket, wishing I could just go back to bed.
After my bucket is full, I go for my towel and bathing soap, following some girls to the bathroom. I didn't know where it was since yesterday I didn't get time to walk around the dorms. The bathroom is large, divided into small portions. I see girls bathing facing each other, water splashing everywhere. No one cares who is who. I guess in boarding schools, there's no privacy at all.
I'm a bit nervous — and scared — to bath in a hall full of girls looking at me. But I just go to the empty space and place my bucket down, looking around. People are minding their own business, chatting, laughing, washing fast. So I hurry up, take my bath, and leave quietly.
Outside, I notice more rows of bathrooms and taps stretching behind the dorms — like a whole village of buckets and soap. I go back to my dorm to dress up, and soon the bell rings for class.
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We finish everything and head to the classrooms, waiting for instructions. A senior prefect in a neat uniform walks in — tall, confident, her voice loud enough for the whole room. She tells us to stand and follow her to the hall.
The hall is big, echoing with footsteps and whispers. Teachers sit in front — serious faces, some smiling, others just scanning through us like they're counting heads. We're introduced to everyone: the principal, the deputy, the teachers, the staff, even the prefect leaders — the school president, her deputy, and the senior girls in charge.
That's when I learn there are ten streams of Form Ones. Ten! My eyes widen — I didn't even know a school could have that many. The noise, the number of students, the smell of new uniforms — everything feels like too much.
After the introductions, we go for breakfast: black tea and three slices of bread. The hall buzzes with girls laughing, sharing sugar, comparing dorms and seats. I eat quietly, still trying to take everything in.
Next, we tour the school. We walk through the dorm sections, see where the senior girls stay — their dorms look neater, more decorated. We're shown where to fetch water, the toilets, the dining hall, and the staffroom. Then we move to the tuition area — past the labs, the library, and the teacher offices called "departments." The grounds are wide, and the sun feels soft on my face. It's a beautiful school, even if it still feels strange.
By lunchtime, my legs already ache. We eat vegetables and ugali quietly, tired but a bit excited. The afternoon drags — more talks, more rules, more laughter from girls who already seem to know each other.
When the evening bell rings, we're led back to the hall again for advice from the principal. Her voice is calm but firm, telling us about discipline, dreams, and making our parents proud. I try to listen, but my mind drifts. My head feels heavy, like it's still half asleep.
At six, we go for supper. The dining hall smells of smoke and food — beans, porridge, laughter. Girls are already joking, sharing spoons, forming small groups.
After eating, we head to the classrooms for evening preps. The air outside is cool now, and the sunset bleeds orange over the rooftops. I find my locker ,drop my books on it and take a seat.
Some girls are whispering, others copying notes. And then… she walks in.
Savina.