Ayesha At Last(6)

Sheila sent her email and then stared at Clara for a moment before leaning forward with a confidential air. “Five years ago, I was in customer support, and now look at me.” She spread out her arms to encompass the large, airy office. “Hard work, that’s the key. And it doesn’t hurt to look good doing it.” Her tight smile revealed tiny white teeth.

Clara shifted uneasily. The scene outside with Khalid was still fresh in her mind. As the new regional manager of Human Resources, she felt responsible.

Sheila straightened in her chair. “People are intimidated by a woman in power, Clara. They think it goes against the natural order of things. But the world is changing, and it’s important that we embrace the transformation. You grew up in Newfoundland.”

Clara blinked, head spinning at Sheila’s abrupt topic change. So her new boss hadn’t been simply ignoring her outside in the hallway.

There had been rumours about Sheila Watts. When Clara was first promoted, her co-workers had warned her about the new boss.

“They call Sheila ‘the Shark’ because she always circles her prey before she attacks,” one remarked. Clara didn’t take gossip seriously, but now she was worried.

If only Khalid had shaken Sheila’s hand, things would have been so much easier. Her friend Ayesha had no problem shaking people’s hands, and she was Muslim. But this was HR 101: Everyone was entitled to their own interpretation of faith, even if it did make her job especially challenging. Also, her new boss’s repetition of that question—Where are you from?—hadn’t sat well with her. If Khalid had been awkward, Sheila’s reaction had been no less so, though Clara doubted her new boss would see things that way.

Ayesha thought she had it bad standing in front of bored teenagers. Finding a way through the tricky waters that made up people’s backgrounds and beliefs was even worse. She reined in her thoughts and focused on Sheila’s words.

“We’re fortunate at Livetech to employ people from all over the world. Diversity is essential in today’s global marketplace, but it can also present unique challenges,” Sheila said.

“I grew up in a diverse neighbourhood, so I’m used to living and working with people of different ethnicities and cultures,” Clara said.

Sheila waved her words aside. “I’m going to let you in on a secret, Clara. Livetech Solutions is ready to join the global technology stage with our new product launch, but there are bad apples polluting the orchard. That’s where you come in.”

Clara’s laptop was open now, and she was taking notes. Polluting the orchard. Bad apples. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. “Are you asking me to fire someone?” she said, not quite masking the squeak of terror in her voice. “So far my HR work at Livetech has focused on mediation, conflict resolution and mental health initiatives.”

“Termination is a last resort, and proper protocols must be followed. We wouldn’t want Livetech to be involved in any legal unpleasantness.” Sheila gave Clara an arch look. “Let’s start with Khalid Mirza. I want you to prepare a file on his work habits, how often he misses deadlines and his inappropriate behaviour toward women.”

Clara was typing furiously but slowed down at Sheila’s words. “Is this about what happened in the hallway earlier?”

Sheila lowered her voice. “You saw what he did,” she said. “He’s clearly one of those extremist Moslems.”

Clara leaned back, fighting to appear calm. The chair pinched her shoulder and she winced. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sheila’s tinkling laugh rang out. “You are so innocent. I love working with a blank slate.”

Clara’s sense of unease grew.

“I was headhunted by a big conglomerate in Riyadh, the capital city of Saudi Arabia, a few years ago. I lasted six months.” Sheila’s teeth gleamed. “Khalid would fit in with my former employers perfectly, right down to the bedsheets and dirty beard.”

Clara’s stomach clenched. “You can’t get rid of someone because of their religious beliefs,” she said carefully. “And his beard looks presentable to me. He told me he dry cleans his robes every week.”

Sheila’s eyes narrowed. “Livetech is a growing global player. Our senior team must maintain a certain professionalism, and that includes a uniformity of dress.” She leaned across the desk. “Sweetheart, you’ll find this type of behaviour the higher you climb. Men afraid of a woman with power, men who can’t handle a woman’s ambition. There are limits to religious accommodation—and it’s your job to find those limits. I’ve set up a meeting with Khalid for next week, which is more than enough time for you to compile your report. I do hope your promotion was the right decision for Livetech.”

When Clara left the office, she felt uneasy. She thought about Ayesha and her family, who had embraced her when her own parents had moved back to Newfoundland during freshman year. They prayed five times a day and wore “funny” clothing too.

Khalid might have chosen to follow his faith in a way that appeared conservative, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be fired. By all accounts he was respectful and hard working, if a little quiet. How could Clara, in good conscience, allow this to happen? She’d gone into human resources to advocate for people, not to promote inequity.

Yet Sheila had made it very clear that her job was on the line. Clara had been so proud of her promotion, so excited to begin climbing the corporate ladder. But already her new role was turning out to be more difficult than she had imagined.