The conference hall at Accra TechLink buzzed with hopefuls. Entrepreneurs, coders, and dreamers lined up for Ghana's newest startup initiative — The Phoenix Program. Sponsored anonymously, the competition promised seed funding, mentorship, and international exposure.
Elena stood in the corner of the hall, nerves crackling in her chest. Her startup — MindMesh, an AI-powered learning assistant for rural schools — had made the shortlist. She adjusted her tablet bag, rehearsing her pitch in her head.
"First prize is $50,000," Nana Afua whispered beside her, eyes scanning the room like a hawk. "You win this, girl, you're leaving trotro life behind."
"I just need the chance," Elena muttered. "One chance to build something real."
Then the event coordinator stepped onto the small stage, holding a clipboard.
"Shortlisted teams will now be paired for prototype development and testing. You'll each be assigned a co-founder or strategist to strengthen your pitch over the next two weeks."
Elena tensed. A partner? She worked alone for a reason. She didn't trust easily.
The coordinator called out names. One by one, people stepped forward, pairing up. Then—
"Elena Nyarko… and… Kwame Mensah."
A man in a black shirt stepped out from the crowd.
Her breath caught.
It was him. The guy from the café.
Only… he wasn't wearing his shades now.
His eyes — piercing, grey-brown, and unreadable — locked onto hers.
"Kwame Mensah?" she asked, skeptical.
He offered a hand, lips twitching. "We meet again."
"You're a strategist?"
"Among other things."
Before she could press him, the coordinator added, "Your team will present last. You'll have two weeks to merge your concepts into one pitch. Best prototype wins the grand prize."
Xavier — or "Kwame" — leaned in. "Looks like I'm your investor again."