Amina woke up the next morning feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. Her mind kept circling back to the confrontation with Mrs. Bello and the emotions she had worked so hard to hide. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, inhaling deeply, then pushed herself out of bed. Today wasn't going to wait for her feelings to settle — and neither would life.
The compound was quiet when she stepped outside. The morning air was cool, carrying that faint smell of dust that always followed the first early harmattan breeze. It reminded her of home, of simpler mornings when all she had to worry about was finishing chores before her mother returned from the market. But she wasn't that girl anymore. Every step she took now was on a path she chose — even if it sometimes felt like walking blindfolded.
When she boarded the bus to the internship office, she found a seat by the window and pulled out her notebook. She had begun using it to write down everything she observed at the program — the tasks, the feedback, even her personal reactions. It helped her see her growth clearly, especially on days when she felt stuck.
Today's page had a single sentence written at the top:
"Do not let fear make your decisions for you."
She wasn't sure when she wrote it, or why, but it felt like the reminder she needed.
By the time she arrived at the office, everyone was already in motion. The interns were gathered in small groups, chatting nervously. Something was happening — something she hadn't been briefed about.
She spotted Farida waving her over.
"Amina, come quickly! They just posted the list."
"What list?" she asked, her pulse speeding up even before she reached the board.
"The list of interns shortlisted for the company project assignments," Farida whispered, biting her lower lip. "Only ten people made it."
The board was crowded, but Amina stepped forward anyway, scanning the names from top to bottom, her stomach tightening.
Her name wasn't there.
She stared again, slower this time, telling herself she must have missed it. But the result didn't change. Her chest dipped with a quiet thud she couldn't hide.
Farida looked at her with concern. "Amina… maybe they made a mistake."
Amina forced a smile. "It's okay. Maybe next time."
But it wasn't okay — and she knew it. She had put in the work, stayed late, asked questions, volunteered, and done everything they said interns should do. Yet the opportunity slipped past her like she didn't exist.
Before she could process her disappointment, the head supervisor, Mr. Adeyemi, stepped into the hallway.
"Everyone, into the conference room. We're starting today's briefing."
Amina swallowed hard and followed the others.
The conference room was cold, the air conditioner humming loudly. Amina sat quietly while the selected interns took seats at the front. She didn't want to be bitter, but her heart stung. She folded her hands on the table, trying to steady her breathing.
Mr. Adeyemi cleared his throat.
"Congratulations to those selected. The project you'll be working on is a real industry case — a logistics and operations assessment for one of our partner companies."
He paused, then turned to the rest of the interns — including Amina.
"For those not selected, this isn't a setback. You will be given alternative assignments that will test your adaptability. Some of you might even be reassigned to fieldwork."
A murmur rippled through the room.
Fieldwork? That wasn't part of the original plan.
Amina sat up straighter.
"Fieldwork teams will be announced by noon," he continued. "And let me make this clear — if you're assigned to fieldwork, you're expected to perform. It's not a punishment. It's a chance to show a different kind of strength."
Amina didn't know whether to feel hopeful or anxious.
When the room emptied, she walked outside to clear her head. She sat on a low cement bench under the shade of a neem tree, staring at the little cracks on the ground.
She wasn't angry at anyone. She was angry at life — at how hard it made things for people like her. At how she always seemed to start a few steps behind and had to work twice as hard to catch up.
She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
"Are you okay?"
She opened her eyes and saw Ibrahim standing there. He had been part of the selected group, and she could see the guilt in his eyes.
"Congratulations," she said, genuinely. "You deserve it."
"I don't feel like I do," he admitted as he sat beside her. "You worked harder than half the people on that list."
She shrugged. "It doesn't work like that. Life sometimes gives the reward to someone else just to see if you'll keep trying."
He smiled faintly. "You always say things that make sense."
Then, after a moment: "If it makes you feel any better… I don't think this is the end for you."
She didn't reply, but his words settled in her heart like a small light.
The afternoon arrived faster than she expected. The interns gathered again in the hallway as the supervisors posted another list — the fieldwork assignment.
Amina pushed her way gently through the crowd, bracing herself.
Her name was number 3.
Assigned Location: Kawu District Development Site
Duration: 3 weeks
Supervisor: Mrs. Bello
Her breath caught in her throat.
Of all people… Mrs. Bello.
For a moment the hallway felt too tight, the voices too loud. Her chest tightened. She wasn't afraid of the work — she was afraid of failing under someone who already doubted her.
But running wasn't an option.
She straightened her shoulders, blinked away the sting in her eyes, and whispered to herself:
"Maybe this is exactly what I need."
Before she could step away, Farida tugged her arm.
"You're going to be with her? Amina… are you sure you can handle that woman for three weeks?"
Amina gave a small smile. "I'll learn something. Even if it's how to survive."
Farida shook her head, clearly worried, but before she could say more, a voice echoed from behind them:
"Amina, report to my office. Now."
She turned slowly.
Mrs. Bello stood there, arms folded, expression unreadable.
And just like that, her three-week challenge had already begun.
She had no idea what awaited her behind that office door.