Chapter Two: New City, New Home
The airplane wheels screeched as they touched the tarmac of Shanghai Pudong International Airport. Adora gripped her backpack straps tightly, her chest buzzing with anticipation. Every city she had ever imagined—the glowing streets, the massive skyscrapers, the smell of food from every corner—was now real.
Bold, brave, and unapologetically Adora. She whispered it under her breath, letting the words steady her. This was her new world, and she refused to shrink into it.
Immigration was quick, and soon she was stepping into the chaotic hum of the airport. Signs in unfamiliar characters and the rhythm of a foreign language filled her senses. People rushed past, rolling luggage and speaking in tones she couldn't understand, but she didn't feel small. She walked with the confidence of someone who knew who she was and what she was capable of.
Her school driver—a tall, neatly dressed man with polite manners—greeted her and guided her to the car. As the cityscape passed by, Adora pressed her face to the window. Neon lights reflected on the glass, and the streets were alive with scooters, bicycles, and people darting between shops. Every building seemed taller than the tallest ones in Abuja, and the smell of street food—strange, aromatic, and tantalizing—wafted through the air.
When they arrived at the boarding school, Adora's eyes widened. The compound was pristine, immaculate gardens lined the walkways, and the buildings gleamed under the afternoon sun. Students in crisp uniforms passed by, moving in synchronized steps, their faces calm and disciplined.
Her assigned room was small but tidy, with a bed, desk, and closet neatly arranged. She dropped her backpack onto the bed and inspected her surroundings. Pulling off her hoodie, she let herself stretch and breathe. For a moment, the homesickness crept in, but she shook it off.
She unpacked her clothes carefully, stacking hoodies and sneakers on one side, books and personal items on the other. Her boxing glove rested atop her pile—a reminder that even here, she was still Adora.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glanced at the city skyline outside the window. Bold, brave, and unapologetically Adora.
That mantra had carried her from the streets of Abuja to this new life, and it would guide her through whatever came next. She didn't yet know the rules, the friends, or the challenges awaiting her—but she did know one thing: she would face it all head-on, Nigerian pride blazing, ready to carve her place in this unfamiliar world.