AMINA

Chapter Six:

It began like any other week.
Classes, hunger, noise, and Lagos heat.

But that Monday morning, Aisha didn’t wake up early like she used to.
Her phone kept ringing, and when Amina finally picked it up, she saw strange messages flashing on the screen.
Within hours, whispers filled the hostel.
Aisha’s name was everywhere — pictures, gossip, shame.

By evening, Amina found her sitting in the dark, makeup smudged, eyes swollen.

> “Aisha…” she said softly.

But Aisha didn’t look up.

> “Don’t say anything. Just don’t.”

Amina wanted to comfort her, but words failed. She only stood there, remembering all the nights Aisha had laughed and said, “You have to be smart in Lagos.”

Now that “smartness” had broken her.

---

Days passed. Aisha stopped going to class.
People mocked her quietly. Some pitied her.
But to Amina, it felt like she was watching a mirror of what could have been her own life — if she had chosen differently.

Then came the announcement:

> “The Faculty of Social Sciences invites students to a campus program on The Girl Child and Her Future.”

At first, Amina didn’t want to go. But something inside her said, “Go and listen.”

---

The hall was full.
Students talked, laughed, scrolled on their phones.
When the moderator called for a few people to share their thoughts, the room went quiet for a moment — then someone said, “That girl that lives with Aisha, let her talk. She’s quiet, but she knows things.”

Amina’s heart raced. Her palms sweated.
She wanted to say no, but somehow, her legs moved on their own.

She stood in front of the microphone.
For a moment, she couldn’t speak. The lights were bright, the hall too silent.
Then she took a deep breath.

> “My name is Amina. I grew up in a place where girls are told that their dreams don’t matter. Where we’re taught that our voices should be small, and our worth comes from serving others. But I met someone who showed me another kind of pain — a girl who wanted freedom but lost herself chasing it…”

Her voice broke, but she continued.

> “She’s my friend, Aisha. She’s strong, but she fell. And I realized something — not every girl who makes a mistake is lost. Some are just tired of fighting alone.”

The hall went completely still.
Some girls lowered their heads; others wiped their eyes.

Amina spoke for almost ten minutes — about poverty, silence, and the battles young girls face when no one believes in them.
When she finished, the hall rose to clap.
But she wasn’t looking for applause.
She only smiled faintly and whispered, “This time, I didn’t stay silent.”

---

The next week, her story spread around campus.
Students started calling her “the girl who spoke truth.”
A lecturer invited her to a radio interview.
Then an NGO reached out, asking her to speak at a youth program about The Power of the Girl Child.

That was the beginning.
From that single moment, Amina’s life began to shift — not because she was rich, but because she found something more valuable: her voice.

To be continued.......

WRITTEN BY 
UMORU DANIELA JOHN