Of Functions, Farewells, and Firsts

"Of Functions, Farewells, and Firsts"

This is it—the final chapter of our internship journey. The last week. A week packed with polishing code, wrapping up modules, emotional goodbyes, and the quiet, proud satisfaction of seeing our work come together.

My focus this week remained on the User Management Module, a crucial part of the system. It wasn’t just about adding users—it was about managing the very core of access and control. We implemented features that allowed the system to handle different types of accounts, from regular users to employees, assigning them with specific roles and permissions to limit or allow access to certain functionalities. Whether it's giving someone admin powers or restricting access to inventory, every line of code had to ensure security, clarity, and efficiency.

There were still bugs to squash, of course—errors that popped out like last-minute gatecrashers to a party. But by this point, debugging felt like second nature. We added final functionalities: editing user info, disabling accounts, resetting passwords, and other key features needed to make the module fully operational. It was the kind of detailed work that tested our patience, but also showcased how much we had learned since week one.

Then came the presentation. Together with Joseph, we showed our progress to Ma’am Ynah, our project lead. It wasn’t a grand pitch or anything flashy—just us, our system, and a walkthrough of what we’d built. And then came the endorsement. Ma’am Ynah will take the reins from here, continuing the development and integration of our work. There was a strange silence after the presentation—one filled with pride, relief, and the quiet realization that this part of our journey was truly coming to a close.

And it hit us: this was more than just a project. More than just a requirement.

This internship became a glimpse into the real world. A world where you clock in, troubleshoot, laugh with colleagues, sip coffee while scanning error logs, and get tasks that don’t come with manuals. A world where you figure things out as you go—and realize you’re capable of more than you thought.

Saying goodbye was bittersweet. We had gotten used to the environment, to the inside jokes, the daily greetings, the quiet chaos of the helpdesk, and the calm guidance of our seniors. It wasn’t just work—it was a small family, one that taught us more than any classroom could.

So here we are—at the end, but also at a beginning.

We came in as interns. We’re leaving as people who understand what it means to be part of something bigger than ourselves.
To build something with our minds, our mistakes, our perseverance—and leave it behind for someone else to carry forward.

And that, I’d say, is a great way to end.