Some whispered.
Some smirked.
And a few—those he knew too well—predicted he wouldn’t last six months.
“He’s too young for that role.”
“He only got it because the previous manager left suddenly.”
“He won’t survive the pressure.”
Farid heard it all. Not because they said it to his face, but because refinery walls had a way of carrying sound further than you think.
He didn’t fight back with words.
He fought back with action.
Every morning, before the boilers roared to life, Farid was already on site—helmet strapped, safety glasses in place, and a worn leather notebook in his hand. He knew the plant inside out: the hum of the centrifuges, the hiss of live steam, the precise rhythm of loading tankers at the dispatch bay.
When a sudden breakdown hit the deodoriser unit, the doubters watched for panic.
Instead, they saw Farid roll up his sleeves, crawl into the maintenance pit, and coordinate repairs with the precision of a conductor leading an orchestra. Within 18 hours, the unit was back online—well ahead of schedule.
When market demand spiked and the refining team groaned under pressure, Farid didn’t hide in his office. He stayed with the night shift, checking product quality in the lab, adjusting parameters, making sure every drum that left bore the refinery’s standard of excellence.
Month by month, the numbers told a story no rumour could erase:
Downtime reduced by 40%
Throughput increased by 15%
Zero major safety incidents
The same voices that once whispered now fell silent.
And the silence was the sweetest applause.
Farid didn’t do it for them. He did it for the pride of building something undeniable. For proving to himself that he could lead a team, protect his plant, and turn pressure into performance.
Now, whenever he walked past the control room, he caught the same doubters watching—only this time, they weren’t waiting for him to fail. They were taking notes.
The best revenge wasn’t anger.
It was achievement.
And Farid had given them a front-row seat to the show they would never forget.
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