This chapter contains suspense, psychological tension, coercion, and the depiction of human trafficking. Reader discretion is advised.
The Journey Begins
The sun had barely risen when the girls gathered outside the dormitory, excitement buzzing like electricity. Today, they were leaving for their first big trip—Cameroon. For most of them, the thought of travel made their hearts race with joy.
Adesuwa watched the line of girls, their faces alight with laughter, whispers, and selfies. She wanted to join them, to smile and feel normal, but a tight coil of unease twisted in her stomach.
The bus waited—a large white Moluwell, polished and gleaming. Rugged guards with heavy frames flanked it, faces impassive behind dark shades. Their presence was intimidating, but no one seemed to notice… yet.
"Phones and bags!" one guard barked. "All bags on the ground. Step back!"
The girls hesitated, exchanging puzzled glances.
"What? But—" Tonia began.
"No buts," the guard snapped. "Rules!"
Adesuwa's chest tightened. Her eyes met Chioma's. Chioma's hand squeezed hers briefly, her eyes wide. Efe's warning echoed in Adesuwa's mind: If anything feels wrong… run.
The girls obeyed. Phones, purses, and small bags were collected in a basin, just as Efe had predicted. The laughter and chatter died slowly, replaced by an eerie quiet.
A second guard approached. "Everyone who's selected, step forward. Quickly."
The girls lined up. The excitement of travel was still there, but something darker threaded through it. The order, the rules, the way the guards moved—they didn't feel like a normal trip.
The bus doors opened, revealing the interior. Cool air blew out. Seats lined the sides. For a moment, some girls hesitated, glancing back at the dormitory. Home. Safety. Normal life. Gone.
Adesuwa slid onto a window seat, clutching her notebook under her arm. Chioma sat beside her, fidgeting with her hair. The bus groaned as it started to move.
The streets blurred past. Laughter had mostly disappeared. The guards stood at intervals inside the bus, watching. Eyes followed every movement.
"They're… watching everything," Adesuwa whispered to Chioma.
Chioma nodded, silent. Her usual bubbly self was gone, replaced by a tight-lipped tension.
---
Hours passed. The bus rumbled along roads that twisted into unfamiliar territory. Trees thickened, buildings thinned. Soon, the scenery became strange—hills, empty fields, patches of unkempt land.
The girls' chatter dwindled. Something was off. The roads seemed endless, the bus taking turns that led them deeper into the unknown.
Finally, the bus slowed to a halt in front of a half-finished building in the middle of nowhere. Rusted metal beams jutted from cracked walls. Broken windows stared like empty eyes.
"Out!" one guard barked.
The girls scrambled down. Bags were tossed onto the dusty ground. A stench of damp concrete and decay filled the air.
"This… isn't Cameroon," muttered Benita, looking around.
"Quiet!" another guard snapped, lifting a heavy baton.
Adesuwa's heart thumped painfully. The reality that Efe had hinted at began to settle in. This isn't a trip. This isn't an internship.
The girls were guided—or shoved—into the building. Inside, the air was thick, heavy with heat and the metallic smell of old machinery. Men with hardened expressions and tattoos lingered in shadows. The girls shivered.
"This… this is your new home," one of the men said flatly. "Obey the rules. Respect the chain. You belong to the program now."
Adesuwa's stomach turned. She swallowed hard. Her dreams of learning, traveling, and growing were evaporating, replaced by a stark, horrifying reality.
The girls were briefed. Rules. Restrictions. Movement. Contacts. Nothing personal. Nothing free. Phones and personal effects were confiscated.
"They said this is temporary," Tonia whispered to Chioma. "Just for training, right?"
Adesuwa shook her head. She had seen this before, felt it in the pit of her stomach. No. This is a trap.
From that day, the girls were moved systematically—first to a safe house in an unknown town, then to Cameroon, and finally, some even to Europe. The training continued, but it was no longer about sewing or lace. It was about control. Seduction. Obedience. Survival.
Adesuwa took every lesson as a test of her will. Every command, every humiliating task, was a trial. But through it all, she never forgot Efe's words: Fear might keep you alive… if anything feels wrong, run.
She began to write in her notebook in secret. Every detail, every observation, every cruel tactic the trainers and men used. It became her map. Her memory. Her resistance.
Days blurred into weeks. Friends disappeared, sent to destinations whispered about in the darkest corners. Some returned, broken. Some never returned.
Through careful observation and patience, Adesuwa began forming a plan. A way to escape, a way to survive.
---
One night, when the guards' patrols shifted and the building lay silent, she whispered to Chioma:
"We have to leave. Tonight."
Chioma's eyes were wide, but she nodded. "But… how? They watch everything."
Adesuwa held up her notebook. "We don't need a way out yet. We need a witness. I will survive. I will escape. And I will tell the world our story."
A distant train whistle echoed through the empty streets outside. Somewhere beyond the walls, freedom waited. Somewhere.
And somewhere, Efe was watching.
> I will survive. I will come back alive. I will tell the world.
What will happen to them next