The Price Tag of a Wake-Up Call
Dera Robert wasn’t the type of girl you say “no” to.
How could you? After-all, even her parents never said “no” to her many many many requests. One time, she cleared out an entire boutique with just one swipe of her black card her billionaire father gave her. Another time, she requested a purple Rolls-Royce for her 22nd birthday. Of course, her father delivered.
She was the kind of girl who got the latest iPhone before it even came out in the stores.
That sunny afternoon, she rushed into her favorite shopping mall in Ikeja, Lagos. Her eyes barely scanning the large, busy space as her leg sped towards the only Chanel boutique in the building. She could get there with her eyes closed.
Her perfectly manicured hands with fingers adorned with long, stiletto purple acrylics, reached for the limited-edition Chanel Le Rosé bag, designed by the legendary French designer Eloise Auclair before her retirement. Eloise called it the piece that summarized her life’s work and it was set to be at a jaw-dropping sum of $200,000, it was the one and only of its kind, only one piece had been supplied to the Chanel store in Nigeria as the designer strictly wanted only one piece per country.
Dera had tried every trick up her sleeve to get her hands on it, but was repeatedly told, the designer wants it to go to the most passionate buyer, someone who truly appreciates the story and artistry behind her life’s work. That’s why buyers must come to the store in person if they hope to get it. “May the fastest buyer win” Eloise Auclair had said.
So imagine the horror on Dera’s face when another hand touched it at the same time. She quickly tightened her grip on the door knob of the glass housing the bag, now glowing under the soft light of the display.
“Uhm Excuse me”, she said, eyeing the other woman from head to toe before giving a fake smile, “we both agree my hands touched it first, right?"
“You can’t be so sure now, perhaps…….” the woman began confidently in a calm, authoritative tone, but was cut short by Dera who started stomping her left foot impatiently
“Listen, I don’t care who you think you are. This bag is mine”
One of the store attendants walked into the scene just in time, “Madams, please”, she said, “you don’t have to quarrel. We can check the CCTV to be sure who got their hands on it first”
After watching the CCTV footage more than ten times, Dera finally accepted that the woman reached it first. As she drove back home in her Mercedes-Maybach, she scoffed and hissed turning down the music she had earlier cranked up to the highest volume.
“I even offered her five hundred million Naira when the original worth of that bag is three-hundred. Such an ingrate! So condescending! Did you see the way she looked at me? Who does she think she is? Chai, that would have been money well-spent. Ah. I’m so pissed”
She ranted aloud while steering the wheel with one hand and gesturing furiously with the other.
On getting back to the hostel, Dera burst into her VVIP apartment, a fully furnished three-bedroom flat she shared with her best friends, Ruth and Lade. Although, Dera’s family was the wealthiest, Lade’s parents were politicians while Ruth’s were oil tycoons, both not nearly as rich as Dera’s family.
Although friends since childhood, the group couldn’t be any more dynamic with Dera being Dera the spender, the daddy’s girl, the lover of all things sparkly. And Lade? The booklover and straight A’s student while Ruth remains the quiet one.
Lately, she’d grown even quieter after her family’s finances fell through the last couple months. Dried up oil wells, capsized shipping vessels, their warehouse catching fire, almost as if misfortune became besties with her family. Still, Ruth remained reserved, tidy and never complained
Until that afternoon.
As Dera began ranting about how rudely she was treated at the boutique, how she wasn’t able to get her bag and how she plans to sue the boutique, Ruth suddenly burst into tears.
Dera was taken aback.
“Ruth, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” she asked, worry creasing her forehead, Ruth rarely showed emotion.
“Well, if you’d just shut up for one hour, you’d realize this is what I’ve been trying to talk to you about all week” Lade responded in a shaky voice while holding Ruth
“Ruth has been given a week to pay up her school fees or she’ll be expelled”
“Expelled? For three million Naira? Are you serious?” Dera stood frozen, genuine confusion spreading across her face
“You know the current situation of things with the family Dera” Lade said, clearly irritated but not in despise.
She loves Dera, they all do. Only that she can be… well, completely oblivious to the real struggles of the life outside her parent’s rich, safe bubble.
Dera stood frozen, unsure how to console her friend. It was the first time she’s ever realized what a “small” amount from the money she was about to spend on a single item could change someone’s life.
Later that week, Ruth rushed into the room looking as clean as always, though the stress had visibly aged her.
“Dera, the VC told me you paid my school fees, is that true?” She asked, eyes brimming with tears. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing
Dera felt even more bad for all the time she had not paid enough attention to her friend’s concerns as she nodded, “Yes Ruth. But don’t think it’s free.”, she said with a smirk.
Lade intercepted with curiosity, “What do you mean?” she asked, raising an eyebrow
Dera sat up straight. “Girls, what would’ve happened if all the time we spent on shopping and buying the latest items, we’d spent it on building a brand?"
“Speak for yourself, my friend, nobody shops like you,” Lade teased, and they all burst into laughter.
“But seriously though” Dera continued, catching her breath, “What happened to Ruth was an eye-opener for me. It could be either your family Lade, or mine next. What will happen to us then?”
The room fell quiet.
“Now that we still have the resources, we really should make good use of it.” Dera paused, letting her words sink in. She then handed them each a stapled 10-page document.
“I have a compiled a list of our shared interests and made a chart to see what connects the three of us but I need us to go over it so we can analyze and agree on a niche. Then we can start a brand.”
She continued, voice steady and sincere, “After what happened to Ruth, I did some research and discovered that these things happen to a lot of students. We are in private school and imagine if this could happen to us, what of students in public universities? It’s really sad.”
“I’ve decided to start an NGO that supports students for school fees, feeding and all that. We can also offer scholarships to exceptionally brilliant students and even give job opportunities to those whose skills align with our brand.”
“A brand and an NGO, seems like a lot of seriously planning. But of course, I’m in” Ruth said smiling
“Yes I’m also in for both” Lade added. “But whoa! Who are you and what have you done with our friend? Dera, are you still in there?” She joked squishing Dera’s cheeks and theatrically searching her face for any sign of alien possession
They all burst into laughter as it plays in the back of their minds that the journey ahead, although, bound to be a rollercoaster, is going to be a beautiful and fulfilling one
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STOPThank you very much
This is an interesting piece for the prompt. I enjoyed the read! Although your piece would have secured higher curation if you had proofread and edited more thoroughly. There were unfortunately missing periods at the end of sentences and mixed tenses. Look out for these issues in future submissions.
I will, thank you very much.