She has brushed that side of her hair for the fifth time yet her curls stubbornly

retained their
spring. She held them in place with her hand, now light caramel in color and smells of freesia, and the
curls seemed to heed her. A minute later they sprung back. “Of course!” she silently muttered to herself
as she saw the polished and made-up woman in the mirror staring back at her.
“Olivetta!” She recognized the shrill tone of her mother amidst the hubbub in that hot, late
afternoon. She quickly gathered her books and slipped them inside a tattered purple bag. This school
year, her mother ran short and was unable to buy her a new bag, promising a new one the following
school year. Same as last year’s promise. Olivetta, the second of four Leoncio siblings, knew it only
took one call before her mother lost her patience and let out a loose cannon of stern warnings and
admonitions. With quickened steps, she zigzagged her way through the mass of students gathered in the
school grounds onto the gate where her mother awaited. Without further words, the daughter and mother
turned left and started striding. It will be another taxing half an hour walk home, just like the day before.
Same as last year.
Olivetta, brought up in an unadventurous village in Sao Paulo, perpetually defied expectations.
At twelve, she strongly insisted on continuing school despite the urgings of elders to instead learn
needlework and cooking. Thankfully, her mother saw the value of her arguments espousing formal
schooling, but only after days of painstakingly peeling the layers of the parents’ disagreement. The only
condition was to pass every subject - one subject failed and school is out. This condition she took to
heart. Olivetta excelled in school. She could have topped her class if not for the missed essay on a
required school play she could not afford. She strived harder after that, burrowing through borrowed
books every night. That event also pushed her to squeeze tightly every Brazilian real.
Four years later, tragedy struck the Leoncio family. An old-time family friend convinced the
Leoncio head to deliver a parcel for a commission. Grabbing the opportunity to earn extra, Olivetta’s
father acceded and brought the parcel to a house in Favela do Moinho. As was later related to the
Leoncios, the parcel turned out to be illegal drugs and the house under surveillance by the Policia Civil.
Shots were fired. When the commotion settled, Olivetta and her siblings lost their beloved father.
With only her mother’s income from the cafeteria covering the family’s expenses, Olivetta’s
school expenses took center attention. With savings depleted, she could no longer augment her daily
expenses. It became rather depressing that her grandmother intensely persuaded her to just marry a rich
man to save them all from their woes. But Olivetta knew that was never the solution. So she searched
Sao Paulo city for a shop or an innkeeper who could take her as a helper. A French baker and his wife
took her in, but not only after Olivetta’s persuasive narration of the family’s predicament. In the months
to come, she would labor in the patisserie every night after her classes. Breads would be put aside to let
the kneading table accommodate her books at night. The days, then months, then years, silently passed
by as Olivetta immersed herself in studies until she eventually obtained her journalism degree.
As she stares back at the woman in the mirror, she smiles to herself knowing she has come a long
way. Her stubbornness led her to this moment. Refusing to be beaten down.
“Olivetta, in five!” She recognized that firm voice. Yes, live shows bow to time. Olivetta,
quickly removed the hair pins letting her stubborn curls loose. Following the floor director, she glides to
the newsroom. Inhaling every drop of air around her, Olivetta’s smile signals she is now ready for her
first anchor of the evening news.