Chapter Thirty-Nine

The next day, Dera woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. She put on her backpack and walked out of her bedroom, heading towards the bicycle that now awaited her outside.

It had been almost a week since she last rode her bicycle, and as she mounted it, Dera felt a surge of exhilaration, as if she were soaring in a private jet. The combination of wearing her new uniform and being able to ride her bicycle, which she had almost sold, filled her with joy. Previously, the principal had forbidden her from visiting the library or borrowing books, but now she could freely indulge in her love for reading. She also relished the opportunity to proudly park her bicycle at the school's bicycle rack, a privilege that had been denied to her before. Even the punishment of gardening alone in the school garden had been lifted, though she genuinely enjoyed tending to the plants. The weight of her debts lifted, leaving behind an airy feeling of freedom that brought a sweet smile to Dera's face.

As Dera approached the massive gates of Peach Secondary School, she noticed the curious gazes of her fellow students. They watched her with keen interest, clearly taken aback by her transformed appearance.

'Good morning!' Dera greeted them excitedly, waving with enthusiasm.

'Good morning,' a boy responded, his face filled with astonishment. 'What a surprise! I had no idea you would look so smart today.'

'I heard you sold your bicycle,' another student chimed in.

Dera smiled warmly at them, sensing their curiosity. 'Change is inevitable,' she replied, her gratitude for Goodwall shining through her words. 'And I owe it all to Goodwall.'

Parking her bicycle proudly at the school's rack, Dera swiftly changed into her farm outfit and made her way to the garden. Her first task was potting some cuttings, which she tackled with enthusiasm. The rain started to fall, but Dera remained undeterred, determined to finish her planting before anything else. She continued working, her hands in the soil, even as the raindrops lightly splattered around her.

Suddenly, the rain stopped, and Dera looked up at the clearing sky, a sweet smile gracing her lips. With renewed energy, she resumed her gardening, tending to the flowers and bringing life to the school garden.

As she worked, Dera's thoughts drifted to the challenges she had overcome and the support she had received from Goodwall. She felt immense gratitude for the newfound opportunities and the debt-free existence she now enjoyed. With each flower she planted, she embraced the future with hope and determination, knowing that her journey was just beginning.

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her concentration, causing her to look up from her work. A female student hurried down to the garden, reciting a poem as she made her way towards Dera.

'Oh, Dera, Jennifer's mum is here to see you!' the student exclaimed breathlessly, even before reaching Dera. 'Mrs. Nnaji told her it wasn't necessary to see you, but she insisted on meeting you before leaving.'

In the past, Dera might have straightened her dress and hurried to greet her. However, she no longer needed to plead for help, thanks to Goodwall. She felt grateful for finding the support she needed, allowing her to clear her debts without resorting to begging.

'Just let her know there's no need to see me,' Dera replied calmly.

'All right, I'll inform her,' the girl said, turning to leave. She paused abruptly when she spotted Sharon approaching the garden. 'She's already here.'

As Dera glanced back, her gaze fell upon Sharon, who was exuding elegance in a captivating white and blue polka dot dress, accentuated by chic pumps, a sophisticated white high-end bag, and adorned with pearl drop earrings and a delicate pearl choker necklace. It was evident that Sharon had invested a considerable amount of money in her ensemble, a choice she had every right to make with her own finances. However, what remained unacceptable was the act of belittling Dera for her financial circumstances, mocking her for being less privileged.

With no reason to engage in conversation, Dera obstinately continued potting her cuttings, not even bothering to acknowledge Sharon's presence. She wished she weren't dressed in oversized farm clothes but instead wearing her new school uniform. Her new uniform would have given her more confidence.

'Hello, Dera,' Sharon greeted as she walked closer. 'I came here to assist you with your fees, but it seems you've already taken care of it. How did you manage this magic?'

'It appears that you weren't genuinely interested in paying my fees; you just wanted to uncover the source of my payment. No one ever cares about the origins of my poverty, so I'd prefer if you didn't concern yourself with the source of my wealth either. Besides, I'm quite busy at the moment. You succeeded in entering, but as you leave, watch your step to avoid stepping in poop. You might not appreciate the odour if you end up smelling like it,' Dera retorted.

Sharon wrinkled her nose at the compost's stench and remarked, 'You don't seem eager to see me.'

'Madam Sharon, I'm just a student and have no connection to the chairman of Peach Secondary School, so you're welcome to visit,' Dera shrugged, filling another flowerpot with soil. 'In any case, I'd still like to thank you for suggesting that I work elsewhere.'

'Well, I'm here to apologise for that... I admit I didn't actually want to help you with your fees, but I truly am sorry,' Sharon admitted.

'What are you apologising for?' Dera glanced at her surroundings. 'You don't have to apologise, ma'am. In fact, I'm the one who's grateful. If you had helped me, I might not have discovered my newfound passion.'

'Your newfound passion?' Sharon scoffed mockingly. 'You should have pursued a marriage instead of trading your body for money.'

'It appears you've overstayed your welcome. Please leave, so I can proceed with my planting,' Dera responded, her voice strained as she wrestled to maintain control over the anger brewing within her. Deep down, she recognised that succumbing to this anger would only result in uttering words she might later regret. 'I have my perfume with me,' she said, pulling out the bottle from her pocket and gracefully opening it. 'It's a constant companion,' she added, a serene smile gracing her lips, as if finding solace in the comforting fragrance.

Sharon wrinkled her nose in disdain. 'I wouldn't waste my time smelling that. It's probably just another one of your cheap tricks.'

Dera remained unfazed by Sharon's comment and replied calmly, 'It's not about the price, ma'am. It's about finding joy in the simple things. The scent of roses can transport us to beautiful memories and bring a sense of peace. I thought you might appreciate a moment of serenity in your busy life.'

Sharon's expression softened for a brief moment before she regained her composure. 'Well, I have better things to do than indulge in such nonsense. I'm leaving.' She paused and turned back to Dera. 'When I was a young girl, I always dreamt of having a garden filled with beautiful flowers at my home. I would often get distracted by the intriguing shops while wandering around as a child. I even imagined running a lovely flower shop myself. At times, I envisioned living in a glass house with transparent doors, where I could watch flashy cars pass by and wake up to the breathtaking sunrise in a lake house. I used to think that people living in such high-end houses must be extremely wealthy. Of course, people's living arrangements often reflect their social status. Your clothes and shoes were seen as indicators of who you were. It's all right to be poor, but don't let others define you solely by that, Dera. Today, I have everything I ever wished for,' Sharon paused, reflecting on her words.

'Sure, no need for the reminder,' Dera muttered to herself, uninterested in engaging in unnecessary melodrama.

'I only began to like you because my daughter liked you. However, you've shown me that you can rise above your circumstances, and no one should judge you based on your poverty. For the first time, I want to say that I am proud of you. And I sincerely apologise,' Sharon expressed, turning to leave. Suddenly, she turned back as if recalling something. 'Dera, I once told you that you were like a rose, beautiful but lacking depth. You have proven me wrong. In such a short period of time, you have transformed into a single bloom with exceptional qualities, emanating a fragrance that everyone admires. And yes, I also enjoy the scent of petrichor. You smell like that.'

'Well, everyone loves the scent of rain. Embracing the natural aroma of fallen rain is far superior to any perfume, as nothing can surpass the original source, right?' Dera responded.

'You have a very strong and sweet odour that's hard to ignore. If I ever feel the desire to indulge in that scent, I'll be sure to drop by,' she responded, before making her exit.

Dera perceived the sincerity in Sharon's words. 'Today is the first time you've spoken like an adult. Thank you,' Dera murmured to herself, turning back to her planting.

And as the fragrance of the rose-scented perfume lingered in the air, it served as a reminder to Dera that even in the most challenging times, she could find beauty and hope. With a heart full of determination and a spirit that couldn't be easily shaken, Dera looked forward to the future, ready to embrace the opportunities that awaited her.

After a while, Dera closed the cap of her rose-scented perfume, setting it aside. 'Perhaps I should create my own petrichor scent,' Dera murmured playfully to herself, a hint of amusement in her voice. Curiosity piqued, she raised her hand to her nose, inhaling deeply, wondering if she carried a hint of that refreshing earthy fragrance reminiscent of rain-soaked soil.

As she walked back to the classroom after gardening, she couldn't contain her radiant smile. Since Goodwall had granted her a chance, she resolved to share the same opportunity with others. She would spread the good news of Goodwall to everyone.

Goodwall had appeared out of nowhere like a glorious oasis, offering her and her family a chance to escape their dull and barren life, embracing countless days of laughter and happiness. She would forever be grateful to this social media platform.

When Dera reached the classroom door, she saw Jennifer waiting there, eager to hug her. Tears welled up in her eyes upon seeing Jennifer. 'Dera! You've finally stopped the storm! I was so worried! It's amazing to see you looking refreshed and adorable,' Jennifer exclaimed before embracing Dera tightly.

Looking at Jennifer's concerned reaction; Dera felt tears of gratitude filling her own eyes. 'Thank you, Jennifer,' she said sincerely.

Jennifer lifted her head, laughter mingling with tears. Dera joined in the laughter as well.

The girls made their way to their desks and sat down. Dera's seat was in the third row next to the window. The sunlight filtered in, casting a gentle glow on her smiling face, making her look like the female protagonist of a romantic drama series.

Their form teacher, Mrs. Nnaji, entered the classroom five minutes later. The class monitor commanded, 'All rise!'

The students stood up and greeted Mrs. Nnaji, who stood on the podium with a smile. Mrs. Nnaji was genuinely delighted to see Dera's transformed appearance.

'Please be seated, everyone,' Mrs. Nnaji said with a smile. 'I have an assignment for all of you. Your assignment is to deliver an oral presentation at the end of the week about a social media app that has personally benefited you and your family.'

Dera was filled with excitement about this assignment. She hadn't yet informed Mrs. Nnaji about Goodwall. This presentation would give her the opportunity to share the app with her classmates and explain how it had been beneficial to her.

Whispering to Dera, Jennifer asked, 'Which social media app will you write about?'

'Goodwall,' Dera replied.

Jennifer found Dera's response amusing. 'When did your crush become a social media app? Girl, you must really love Goodwall. Is he handsome? Tall?' Jennifer playfully poked Dera's nose, and they both chuckled.

'Stop it. We're in class. And yes, Goodwall is a social media app, the best one I know.'

'Anyway, I like your sense of humour.'

Although Dera was telling the truth, Jennifer didn't believe her. Dera wondered how Jennifer would react during the presentation.

'On the day of the presentation, I'll bring a box of doughnuts for you,' Dera offered kindly.

After Mrs. Nnaji left the classroom, Dera dialled Andrew's number and called him.

'Is everything okay?' Andrew asked with concern in his voice from the other end of the line. He was in his own classroom and lowered his voice to avoid interrupting the ongoing lecture.

'Everything's fine. I just wanted to tell you about my assignment,' Dera replied.

'You sound really excited. Care to share the details?' Andrew enquired.

'Of course,' Dera happily responded, proceeding to explain the assignment to him.

'Since you don't have an internet phone yet, you should go to the internet café and gather more information about Goodwall. Google will be happy to provide you with all the details,' Andrew suggested with a smile.

'Yeah, I'm going to do that,' Dera affirmed, her excitement evident in her voice.