It was 9:15 a.m. when the candidates began arriving for the interview at Silverline Media. Everyone looked tense  suits, files, and fake smiles everywhere.

Among them was Amaka, a young filmmaker with tired eyes and a dream bigger than her handbag. She had worked on several short films in school, mostly behind the camera, but this was her first real chance to join a production company.

When the secretary called her name, she stood, fixed her collar, and walked in.

Inside, three interviewers sat around a glass table. Two men and a woman. One of the men glanced at her CV, then at her.

“You’re applying for the position of camera operator?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Amaka replied confidently.

He chuckled. “You don’t look strong enough to carry those big cameras. Why not try makeup or costume?”

The room went silent. Amaka smiled not out of shyness, but out of disbelief. She took a deep breath and said, “Sir, I may not look strong, but I’ve carried heavier things like the pressure of being told I can’t do something just because I’m a woman.”

Even the female interviewer looked up.

She continued, “What matters isn’t muscle, it’s focus. And I’ve been focused since the day I picked up a camera.”

For a few seconds, no one said a word. Then the woman on the panel smiled. “Please, show us your portfolio.”

Amaka connected her flash drive. The screen lit up with her short film scenes filled with emotion, movement, and life. By the time it ended, the man who had laughed earlier cleared his throat and said, “Welcome to Silverline Media, Miss Amaka.”

Outside, she exhaled deeply, looked at the sky, and whispered, “For every woman they doubt, another one will rise.”