Episode 1 — The First Day
The first day of a new academic session was always noisy at Happy Day Nursery and Primary School.
From the school gate came the sound of excited voices, laughter, footsteps, and the occasional cry of a child who had suddenly realized that coming to school meant being separated from Mummy or Daddy.
The compound was already crowded before eight o’clock.
Old pupils ran toward one another as though they had been separated for years instead of a few weeks.
“Chinedu!”
“Esther!”
“You came back!”
“I missed you!”
“I missed you too!”
Some hugged. Others jumped around excitedly, while a few simply stood together, talking endlessly about everything that had happened during the long vacation.
Near one corner of the compound, a group of children sang loudly.
“The more we are together…”
“Together, together…”
“The more we are together…”
“The happier we shall be!”
Their voices rose above the noise.
But not every child was happy.
Several new pupils sat quietly beside their parents, watching the unfamiliar environment with frightened eyes.
Some held tightly to their mothers’ hands.
Others hid behind their fathers.
One little boy refused to let go of his father’s trouser leg.
“I don’t want to stay here,” he cried.
His father sighed.
“You’ll be fine, son.”
“No!”
“You’ll make friends.”
“No!”
“You’ll learn many things.”
The boy shook his head violently.
“I want to go home!”
His father looked helplessly toward the school building.
The situation was even worse at the playgroup section.
There, some of the youngest children were screaming at the tops of their voices.
One little girl clung desperately to her mother’s dress.
“Mummy, don’t leave me!”
“I’m not leaving you forever,” her mother said, bending down to kiss her forehead.
“Don’t go!”
“I’ll come back after school.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“I want to go with you.”
The mother smiled sadly.
“You’ll have fun here.”
But the child did not believe her.
All around them, similar scenes were taking place.
Some parents tried to comfort their children.
Others tried to distract them.
A few quietly escaped the moment their children looked away.
It was a familiar first-day struggle.
For the parents, it was a necessary sacrifice.
For the children, it felt like betrayal.
Among the crowd stood a young mother named Mrs. Johnson.
She held the hand of her five-year-old daughter, Maltina.
Unlike some of the other children, Maltina wasn’t screaming.
She was simply staring.
Her small fingers were wrapped tightly around her mother’s hand.
Her eyes moved from the classroom buildings to the teachers, then to the children running around the compound.
Everything was strange.
Everything was unfamiliar.
“Maltina,” her mother whispered, “look at all the children.”
Maltina said nothing.
“You’ll make friends.”
The little girl looked up.
“Will you stay with me?”
Mrs. Johnson’s heart tightened.
She crouched down and held her daughter by the shoulders.
“I wish I could.”
“Then stay.”
“I can’t, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
“Because Mummy has to go to work.”
Maltina’s lips trembled.
“Don’t leave me.”
Mrs. Johnson pulled her into a tight embrace.
For a moment, she considered taking her daughter home.
Her new job had taken months to secure.
She couldn’t afford to lose it.
But leaving Maltina behind was almost unbearable.
“Listen to me,” she whispered. “You’re a brave girl.”
Maltina shook her head.
“I’m not brave.”
Mrs. Johnson smiled despite the tears gathering in her eyes.
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
They both laughed softly.
Then Maltina suddenly buried her face against her mother’s chest.
“Mummy…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t like school.”
Mrs. Johnson closed her eyes.
“Give it a chance.”
Before she could say anything else, a cheerful voice rang across the compound.
“Good morning, children!”
Several pupils turned.
A few teachers smiled.
The younger children became curious.
Then came the sound of a tambourine.
Jingle.
Jingle.
Jingle.
A smallish, dark-complexioned woman was walking toward the nursery section.
She carried a large handbag on one arm and a tambourine in the other.
She wasn’t young, but there was something warm and energetic about her presence.
The moment some of the older pupils saw her, they shouted.
“Grandma is here!”
“Grandma!”
“Grandma!”
Several children ran toward her.
The woman laughed.
“Ah-ah! One at a time!”
They surrounded her anyway.
One hugged her waist.
Another grabbed her hand.
A third began telling her about something that had happened during the holiday.
“Grandma, my uncle bought me a bicycle!”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“I hope you didn’t fall from it.”
The boy laughed.
“No!”
“Good. Then you must show me later.”
Another child tugged at her dress.
“Grandma, I missed you.”
She smiled.
“I missed you too.”
Mrs. Johnson watched the scene with surprise.
“Who is she?” she asked one of the teachers nearby.
“Mrs. Katsina,” the teacher replied.
“She’s a teacher?”
The woman smiled.
“Yes. But the children call her Grandma.”
Mrs. Johnson nodded.
There was something comforting about the woman’s manner.
Mrs. Katsina eventually made her way toward the crying children.
She opened her handbag.
“Now, who has been crying so much that your nose has become a river?”
A few children stared at her.
One immediately hid behind his mother.
Mrs. Katsina laughed.
“Ah! You’re hiding from me?”
The child shook his head.
“Don’t worry. I won’t eat you.”
A few parents laughed.
She pulled out a roll of tissue paper and gently wiped the face of another crying child.
“There we go.”
The child resisted.
“Don’t touch me!”
“All right, all right.”
She raised both hands.
“I surrender.”
The child looked at her suspiciously.
Mrs. Katsina smiled.
“What’s your name?”
The child remained silent.
“Okay. You don’t want to tell Grandma?”
Still nothing.
“That’s fine. I’ll guess.”
The child looked interested.
“Your name is…”
She paused dramatically.
“Mr. President.”
The child suddenly giggled.
His mother smiled with relief.
Mrs. Katsina winked.
“There! I knew you could smile.”
One by one, she approached the children.
Some resisted.
Some cried harder.
Others slowly became curious.
Then she saw Maltina.
The little girl stood beside her mother, silent and unusually still.
Mrs. Katsina looked at her for a few seconds.
Then she smiled.
“Hello.”
Maltina didn’t answer.
Mrs. Katsina crouched so they were at the same level.
“What’s your name?”
Maltina looked at her mother.
“Go ahead,” Mrs. Johnson encouraged.
“Maltina,” the little girl whispered.
Mrs. Katsina smiled.
“Maltina. That’s a beautiful name.”
Maltina said nothing.
“Do you like singing?”
A small shake of the head.
“Dancing?”
Another shake.
“Playing?”
The girl hesitated.
Then she shook her head again.
Mrs. Katsina laughed softly.
“So you don’t like anything?”
Maltina finally looked directly into her eyes.
“I like Mummy.”
Mrs. Katsina smiled.
“That’s a very good answer.”
Mrs. Johnson laughed nervously.
“She’s never been away from me before.”
Mrs. Katsina nodded.
“That explains it.”
She looked at Maltina again.
“You know something?”
Maltina waited.
“Your mummy is going to come back.”
“Promise?”
Mrs. Katsina glanced at Mrs. Johnson.
“She will.”
Mrs. Johnson smiled.
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Katsina stood.
“Don’t worry. The first day is usually the hardest.”
Mrs. Johnson nodded.
She hugged Maltina one more time.
“Mummy will come back.”
Maltina suddenly tightened her grip.
“No.”
“Sweetheart…”
“No!”
Her voice cracked.
And then the tears came.
“Mummy!”
Mrs. Johnson’s eyes filled with tears.
She looked at Mrs. Katsina helplessly.
Mrs. Katsina gave her a small nod.
“Go.”
“But—”
“Go before it becomes harder.”
Mrs. Johnson kissed Maltina repeatedly.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll be back.”
Then she slowly pulled away.
Maltina screamed.
“Mummy!”
Mrs. Johnson turned.
For a moment, she almost ran back.
But she forced herself to keep walking.
“Mummy!”
Mrs. Katsina gently placed a hand on Maltina’s shoulder.
“She’ll come back.”
Maltina continued crying.
Mrs. Katsina looked toward the school gate.
Mrs. Johnson was already outside.
She stopped briefly and looked back.
Their eyes met.
Mrs. Katsina nodded reassuringly.
Mrs. Johnson wiped her face and walked away.
Maltina watched until her mother disappeared.
Then she began crying harder.
“I want my mummy.”
Mrs. Katsina sighed gently.
“I know.”
She opened her handbag again.
This time, she brought out a brightly decorated tambourine.
Maltina stared at it through her tears.
Mrs. Katsina shook it.
Jingle.
Maltina blinked.
Jingle.
The little girl stared.
Mrs. Katsina smiled.
“Would you like to hold it?”
Maltina didn’t answer.
Mrs. Katsina extended it toward her.
Slowly, very slowly, Maltina reached out.
But before her fingers touched the tambourine, another child ran between them.
“Grandma!”
Mrs. Katsina turned.
The moment passed.
She laughed and began singing.
“How do you do when you meet boys and girls?”
Some children answered.
“Ever so happy!”
“Happy, happy, happy!”
Soon, the nursery section was filled with singing.
Maltina remained quiet.
But she was no longer crying.
At least, not yet.
Mrs. Katsina watched her from the corner of her eye.
Something about the child bothered her.
She couldn’t explain what.
Perhaps it was the way Maltina stared at the school building.
Perhaps it was the way she had held tightly to her mother’s hand.
Or perhaps it was simply the feeling that she had seen those eyes somewhere before.
Mrs. Katsina dismissed the thought.
She had taught hundreds of children.
Faces could look familiar.
Names could sound familiar.
There was nothing unusual about it.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
The morning continued.
Classes began.
Parents left.
The compound gradually became quieter.
Inside the nursery classroom, Maltina sat at a small desk.
She looked around.
The walls were decorated with colorful pictures of animals, numbers, letters, and fruits.
The teacher stood at the front.
“Good morning, children.”
“Good morning, ma!”
“Today is a very special day.”
Maltina lowered her head.
She missed her mother already.
The teacher began introducing the class rules.
No shouting.
No fighting.
No running inside the classroom.
Raise your hand before speaking.
Maltina listened quietly.
Then another girl leaned toward her.
“My name is Favour.”
Maltina looked at her.
“I’m Maltina.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Grandma called you.”
Maltina looked toward the classroom door.
Mrs. Katsina was standing outside, speaking to another teacher.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Mrs. Katsina smiled.
Maltina looked away.
She didn’t know it yet, but that woman would soon become one of the most important people in her life.
And Mrs. Katsina didn’t know it either.
Not yet.
By lunchtime, Maltina had stopped crying.
She even ate a little.
When the afternoon bell finally rang, children began rushing toward the school gate.
Maltina’s eyes brightened.
“Mummy!”
She ran outside.
Mrs. Johnson was waiting.
She bent down and hugged her daughter.
“My brave girl!”
Maltina wrapped her arms around her.
“I cried.”
“I know.”
“I wanted you.”
“I know.”
“But I stopped.”
Mrs. Johnson kissed her forehead.
“I’m proud of you.”
A few steps away, Mrs. Katsina watched them.
She smiled.
Then something caught her attention.
A man stood outside the school gate.
He wasn’t a parent she recognized.
He wasn’t wearing a school uniform or staff identification.
He was simply standing there.
Watching.
Mrs. Katsina’s smile disappeared.
The man looked directly toward the nursery section.
Then he turned and walked away.
Mrs. Katsina stared after him.
“Who was that?”
The question came from another teacher beside her.
Mrs. Katsina shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
She looked toward Maltina.
The little girl was still holding her mother’s hand.
Then, for reasons she couldn’t explain, Mrs. Katsina felt a sudden chill.
She had the strange feeling that the man had not come to see the school.
He had come to see someone.
And just before he disappeared around the corner, he had looked directly at Maltina.
To be continued…
⭐ Best one to place at the end of Episode 1
