The sun pushed through Ada’s old curtains. She was lying down on her soft bed looking at her rough ceiling.
That day makes it six months she graduated from school. Six months since she left school with a certificate in her hand and big dreams in her heart. She thought a good job would come quickly. But nothing came.
She was still jobless.
Ada picked up her phone and checked her email. No new messages. No interview invites. Just silence.
Her mother’s voice called from outside.
“Ada, come and help me with the firewood.”
Ada went out. Her mother was trying to light up their old stove. Ada bent down to help.
“You look worried, Mama,” Ada said.
Her mother shook her head. “It’s you I worry for, my child. You studied so hard, yet no job. But God will make a way.”
Ada gave a small smile, but her chest felt heavy.
It was later in the day when Ada decided to put on her only beautiful dress and go to town. She made her way into the cybercafé. The place was alive with the clicking of keyboards and murmured conversations. A lot of the youth were present, all engaged in similar activities, that is to say, job hunting.
Ada borrowed a computer and began to submit application letters. Without stopping from one to another. Continuously she would complete forms, email her CV, and hope for an answer. Each 'no' she got was more painful than the previous ones.
By evening, her eyes ached. She quietly picked up her things and went out. Posters covered the walls: Recruitment Today! She knew they were fake. Scams.
Her feet dragged as she made her way home.
The next morning was similar. She went through the motions; praying, cleaning and opening her laptop. However, when she was in the kitchen, the sack of flour caught her eye and she recalled her grandma's tales - how she baked bread during difficult times to stay alive. bAda stopped. What if I experimented?
She first put flour in a bowl, then water and yeast. Her movements were awkward but she didn't stop. Not long after, the aroma of new bread was spread all over the house. Her little brother, Chike, rushed to her.
“Sis, did you buy this?”
Ada laughed. “No. I made it.”
Choke took a piece and eat, immediately his face changed. “This is good! You should sell it.”
The words stuck in her mind. Maybe she could.
The next day, Ada baked three loaves. She wrapped them neatly and went to the roadside. Strangers passed without looking at what Ada kept on the roadside.
Finally, a woman stopped. She picked up a loaf, smelled it, and smiled.
“How much?” she asked.
“Five hundred naira,” Ada said softly.
The woman paid and walked away. Within an hour, all the loaves were gone. Even though the money is not enough but it could do a little thing for her.
Days turned into weeks. Ada baked every morning. Her bread got better. The neighborhood kids started calling her “the bread girl.” Some people came to her door to pick some breads before sunrise.
But not everyone approved. One evening, Ada overheard neighbors whispering.
“Imagine, a graduate selling bread,” one said with a laugh. “What a waste.”
The words cut deep. Ada watched her ceiling while lying down on her bed.
“Is this really my life? Did I go to school for this?” she thought.
It is certain that her mother was very empathetic. She entered the room, took her seat next to her, and put her hand on her shoulder.
“My daughter,” she said softly, “it is not a disgrace to work with honor. If one door gets closed, God will open another.”
Tears flowed down Ada's cheeks. She got encouraged from her mother's talk.
Her business grew. She bought better ingredients. She tried new recipes. She saved money. Soon, people came from other parts of town just to buy her bread.
One afternoon, a man in a neat suit walked into their compound.
“You’re Ada?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, brushing flour from her hands.
“I own a supermarket in town,” he said. “I’ve heard about your bread. Would you supply us?”
Her heart skipped. “Supply? Every week?”
“Yes. People love it. We’d like to sell it.”
She barely breathe, but she thanks God for everything.
The pace of life escalated. As her routine, she prepared a bakery that served her customers for the whole day, then she delivered the products to the supermarket. She also paid for the services of two girls with her. For the first time after she had left college, she felt the thrill of life.
She, however, encountered some problems in her business. On a particular day, a few moments before she was supposed to embark on a huge order, her baking oven stopped working. Fear had her full control. She found herself on the floor in a defeated attitude.
Then Chike walked in. “Sis, you always tell me not to give up. Let’s find another way.”
Together, they borrowed a neighbor’s oven. They worked all night and finished the order. Ada was tired, but she learned something important—strength isn’t about never failing. It’s about rising again each time you fall.
Several months later Ada's bakery was doing very well. She used vibrant colors to paint the store façade and named it Hope Loaves. Customers were coming every morning, so she was able to employ more workers, and thus she was able to provide jobs to other young people who were unemployed like her.
After church one Sunday, the pastor called her on stage to share her story. She faced the congregation, her voice firm.
"I felt like my life was finished when I couldn't get a job," she recalled. "I sobbed. I came close to quitting. But God made it clear to me that sometimes the solution is already within our reach."
“Today, I don’t only bake bread. I feed families and give jobs to others. If you feel hopeless, please don’t give up. Your chance may be closer than you think.”
The church was silent. Some wiped tears from their eyes. Her mother sat in the front row, smiling proudly.
That night, Ada sat outside under the stars. The bakery was closed. The street was quiet. She whispered, “Jobless but not hopeless.”
She remembered the girl who once stared at the ceiling, drowning in worry. That girl was gone.
In her place was a woman who had found a new path. Not by waiting for someone to hire her. But by daring to try.
The stars above twinkled. Inside her heart, hope burned bright.
