“We are losing fifty million naira every week.”
“If this continues, we could be bankrupt in six months.”
Richard felt trapped.
So he did what rich men do when disaster strikes.
He threw money at it.
First, he brought in engineers from America. They arrived with expensive tools, advanced software, and absolute confidence. He paid them eight hundred million naira.
They worked for two months.
Nothing changed.
When Richard called them into his office and demanded answers, the lead engineer only shook his head.
“We’ve checked the turbines, the compressors, the systems… everything appears normal. We still cannot identify the cause.”
“Then check again!” Richard roared.
They did. Still nothing.
Next came German experts, men who built some of the finest engines in the world. They dismantled engines piece by piece, replaced parts, ran endless tests, and rebuilt everything.
The problem got worse.
One test flight nearly ended in disaster when an engine began smoking midair.
“Mr. Richard,” the German lead engineer admitted, humiliated, “we have never seen anything like this. By every measurement, the engine should be functioning correctly.”
Richard nearly exploded.
Then he called the Japanese.
They were supposed to be the best of the best. They brought special cameras, highly specialized software, and diagnostic systems worth fortunes.
Richard paid them 1.2 billion naira.
They worked day and night for three months.
Still, the planes kept failing.
At last, their chief engineer bowed his head.
“We are sorry. We have used every method available to us. We still cannot find the fault.”
Richard was too exhausted even to shout.
Three billion naira.
No solution.
At night his wife, Victoria, would wake to find him alone in his study, staring at aircraft diagrams and maintenance reports.
“You need to sleep,” she would say softly.
“I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see my company dying.”
“Maybe we should sell it,” she suggested one night. “We still have enough to live well.”
“Never,” Richard snapped. “I built this company from one plane. I gave it twenty years of my life. If I lose this company, I lose everything.”
But inside, he was afraid.
Truly afraid.
On the other side of Abuja, beneath a dirty bridge near the airport, Grace was trying to sleep.
She was twenty-eight, though hardship made her look older. Her clothes were torn. Her hair was rough and unkempt. She had not eaten properly in three days.
Her stomach twisted with hunger.
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