“Sir… six months ago we changed to a cheaper fuel supplier.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“You’re telling me we destroyed our own engines to save money on fuel?”
No one answered.
Richard began to laugh—a harsh, disbelieving laugh.
“Three billion naira,” he said. “Three billion. And a homeless woman solved it in five minutes.”
He immediately called the injector manufacturer.
“I need five hundred new injectors. I don’t care what it costs. I need them now.”
Then he called the fuel supplier and fired them on the spot.
Then he hired the best fuel company in the country and ordered daily purity tests.
Finally, he turned to Grace.
“You’re hired.”
She stared at him.
“Sir, I don’t have certificates.”
“I don’t care about certificates,” Richard said. “Certificates didn’t save my planes. You did. You have real knowledge. Real instinct. That matters more than paper.”
Tears filled Grace’s eyes.
“I don’t even have clean clothes,” she whispered. “I don’t have anywhere to live.”
Richard called his secretary.
“Take Grace to the best clothing store in Abuja. Buy her twenty professional outfits. Book her into a good hotel for a month. Arrange a full medical check-up. Use the company card.”
Grace began to cry.
Two hours earlier she had been hungry under a bridge.
Now she had work, safety, and a future.
Five days later, the miracle came.
All damaged injectors had been replaced. The planes were running on clean, tested fuel.
Richard personally stood on the runway to watch the first test flight.
The engine started smoothly.