Chapter Nine: First Social Waves
It was Monday morning, and the school corridors were buzzing. Adora walked down the hall with her backpack slung low, hoodie pulled up, her eyes sharp. Heads turned, whispers followed, and students exchanged glances.
Bold, brave, and unapologetically Adora. She reminded herself, letting the mantra steady her nerves.
Her desk mate, Mei, caught up with her. "Adora, everyone is talking about you. Some students… they seem curious, maybe even a little skeptical."
Adora grinned. "Na so we dey do am for Naija. Let dem talk small. I no dey mind."
As they reached their classroom, a group of students blocked their way. The tallest one stepped forward, smirking.
"So… you're the Nigerian girl?" she said. "People say you think you're… special."
Adora raised an eyebrow. "Abi? If na so dem talk, e mean say dem never see correct thing before. No wahala, I go show dem small style."
A few students snickered. Mei whispered nervously, "Are you going to… say something?"
Adora just smirked and walked past them with confidence, muttering softly: "Make dem sabi who Adora be."
Later that day, in the cafeteria, Adora noticed something curious. The students were lining up for lunch, very orderly. She dropped her tray slightly and said with a grin, "Back home for Nigeria, we go just grab food, nobody dey wait like this o." Some nearby students giggled. One boy whispered, "She's… funny."
During study period, Adora wandered to the library with Mei. She pulled out a few books, including one about traditional festivals around the world. Flipping through the pages, she smiled. "I fit show dem small Naija culture later. Make dem sabi say Naija no dey carry last."
By the end of the day, Adora had already made an impression: