She walked through the city like a shadow.

Every day, men’s eyes followed her, hungry and uninvited. Offers came from corners, from cars, from smiles that weren’t smiles. They didn’t see a girl trying to survive — only a body they wanted to buy.

But Faith kept moving.

She woke before sunrise, braided her hair tight, and sold cold drinks at the bus park. It wasn’t much, but it was honest. Some days she earned barely enough for food. Some days nothing at all. But every day, she fought.

When the world tried to drag her down, she reminded herself why she was still here — her little sister waiting at home, her mother’s worn face, the future she refused to surrender.

People tried to break her, pull her into dark corners, offer her money for pieces of her dignity. But Faith held her ground. She learned to say no with her chest. She learned to walk fast. She learned to survive.

And every night, when she counted the few notes in her hand, she whispered to herself:

“I won today. And tomorrow, I’ll win again.”

Because Faith wasn’t just surviving.

She was fighting for a life that would one day become hers — not the world’s.