Williams hesitated. His eyes dropped to the expensive carpet on the floor. For a long time, a heavy silence stretched between the two men, broken only by the quiet hum of the office air conditioning. Then, with a shaky breath, he reached into his brown bag. From it, he pulled out the old, dog-eared book on aeronautical engineering. Its cover was faded, and its pages were worn thin at the edges.
“This,” he said softly, placing it gently on the desk. “This is what reminds me of who I used to be.”
Johnson sat down in the chair across from him, leaning in, his attention absolute. “Tell me.”
And so, Williams told him.
“I am Williams Andrew,” he began, his voice heavy with the past. “Once, I was a top aeronautical engineer. I worked with major companies in the United States for over ten years. I designed systems, I solved complex problems… I lived in the sky. I had a family: my wife, Balaji Paska, and two wonderful boys, David and Jeremy. For a while, I truly thought I was blessed.”
His eyes seemed to cloud over, and his voice cracked just slightly. “But then… doubt entered my home. I began to suspect my wife. Against my better judgment, I ran a DNA test on my children.” He paused. “The results… they said the boys were not mine.”
Johnson stiffened in his chair, listening intently, saying nothing.
“I don’t know how she found out about the test,” Williams continued, his voice hollow. “But the very next morning, as I was leaving for work, the police stopped me. They searched my briefcase and… they found illegal substances planted inside.”
“I was arrested, charged, and jailed. I served two years. By the time I came out, I had lost everything. My career, my reputation, my family… My wife had destroyed me. After I was deported, I returned here to Nigeria. With absolutely nothing.”
He paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I’ve been living under the bridge ever since. Broken. Forgotten by everyone.” He patted the brown bag sitting next to him. “But this bag… with my book and my certificates… it has been my only reminder of who I once was.”
Johnson’s throat tightened. He could barely find the words. “My God,” he whispered. “You? You went from designing aircraft to sleeping under bridges?”
Williams just nodded, his expression silent.
For a long moment, both men sat in the stillness, their lives worlds apart, yet suddenly bound by one powerful truth: Genius can be buried, but it never truly dies.
Finally, Johnson stood up, his decision instant and unshakable. “We are not leaving you like this,” he said firmly. He picked up his phone and called his personal driver. “Take him to the best barbershop in town. Get him cleaned up. Then, take him to the finest boutique and get him everything he needs. Everything.”
He looked back at Williams. “He doesn’t step foot in this office again looking like he’s been forgotten by the world.” Williams started to protest, to say it was too much, but Johnson silenced him with a single look. “No. You’ve given me back my company. Now, I’m going to give you back your life.”
That night, when Williams looked at his reflection in the mirror of the barbershop, he barely recognized the man staring back at him. His beard was perfectly trimmed, his hair neat and styled. At the boutique, he slipped into a crisp, new suit. For the first time in years, he felt like himself again.
By morning, he walked back into Aerospace headquarters. He was not the ragged beggar from under the bridge. He was Lead Engineer Williams Andrew.
Johnson introduced him to the team, his voice booming with pride. “This man saved us all. He is now your leader. You will learn from him.”…
