The Hustle HQ

Part 3: Pitches and Glitches The crew stood frozen in front of the investors, staring at the projector that proudly displayed Crypto-Jollof Fashion App for Forex Tailors. Zainab turned slowly toward Chuka.“Explain… before I commit murder.” Chuka raised both hands in surrender. “Relax! I just left the old file in the folder. The new one is there—check slide two.” Teni quickly clicked, and thankfully, the “Feast Fast” food app presentation appeared. The investors chuckled, clearly entertained. “Carry on,” Mr. Bello said, smirking from the side. Teni took the lead, striking a pose like she was on a runway.“Good afternoon, respected investors. Imagine an app that delivers food faster than you can say hunger—Feast Fast. Convenient, stylish, and built for the hustle of city life.” She beamed and handed off to Zainab. Zainab stepped up, chewing gum between sentences.“Basically, people are hungry, people are lazy, we feed them, we get paid. No stress. No wahala. Just vibes.” The investors laughed, but they were intrigued. Then it was Femi’s turn. He rushed forward with graphs and spreadsheets.“With just ₦1 million, we can achieve 200% growth in—” “Cut the forex grammar!” Amaka hissed behind him. Femi ignored her and kept rattling off numbers until one of the investors stopped him:“Young man, what exactly is the business model? Deliver food or gamble on currencies?” Femi’s face went red. Amaka jumped in to save the day. She rolled out sketches of branded uniforms and packaging.“We’re not just selling food—we’re selling culture, identity, pride in African flavours. Our delivery riders will be walking billboards.” It was going surprisingly well… until Chuka grabbed the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, one final touch—we integrate HustleCoin, our own cryptocurrency, so customers can pay with blockchain technology. Decentralised, secure, revolutionary!” Groans echoed around the room. Zainab smacked her forehead. “Not this coin again,” she muttered. Just as Teni tried to wrap things up, the projector flickered, froze, and suddenly displayed Chuka’s secret “HustleCoin Whitepaper”—complete with promises of “Guaranteed 300% returns in 3 days.” The investors gasped. One whispered, “Ponzi alert.” Panic spread. Femi tried unplugging the laptop, Amaka threw a scarf over the projector, Teni kept talking loudly as if nothing was wrong, and Zainab muttered curses at Chuka under her breath. When the chaos settled, Mr. Bello stood, arms folded.“Well… that was the most entertaining pitch I’ve seen this week. But investors don’t give money for comedy. You have one last chance tomorrow—come back with something serious.” The crew slumped in defeat. They had 24 hours to fix everything. Chuka, still clutching his laptop, whispered, “At least they didn’t say no.” Zainab glared at him. “Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

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