The ‘Will’ of Baba

The sun had just begun to set on the small town of Ibadan, inside the modest home of the Ademola family (not real names), a sense of unease hung in the air. The family of five had gathered in the living room, their faces somber and their eyes red-rimmed from crying.

Baba Ademola, the patriarch of the family, had passed away just a week ago, leaving behind his wife, Mama Ademola, and their four children: Tunde, the eldest, a responsible and level-headed young man; Yinka, the second child, a free-spirited and creative young woman; and the twins, Kehinde and Taiwo, rambunctious and mischievous 10-year-olds.

As the family sat in stunned silence, their lawyer, Mr. Johnson, cleared his throat to begin the reading of Baba Ademola’s will. “To my beloved children,” Mr. Johnson read, “I leave all of my properties, including the house, the land, and the business, to be shared equally among you. I trust that you will take care of your mother and provide for her well-being.”

The room fell silent once more, with the family exchanging shocked glances. Mama Ademola’s eyes widened in disbelief, her face pale with hurt and anger. “But what about me?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What about my well-being?”

Tunde, the eldest child, spoke up, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “Mama, we will take care of you. We promise. Baba trusted us to do the right thing.” Yinka nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with tears. “We’ll make sure you’re okay, Mama. We’ll work together to make sure you’re provided for.”

They all hugged tightly. As she pulled back from the hug, she gazed at her children, her eyes searching for any sign of uncertainty or doubt. The twins, Kehinde and Taiwo, were still nodding in unison, their faces set with determination. Tunde and Yinka were smiling reassuringly, their eyes filled with a deep sense of responsibility.

But Mama Ademola’s mind was already racing ahead, filled with ‘what ifs’ and ‘what if nots’. What if her children forgot about her once they got married and started their own families? What if they didn’t take care of her the way their father had trusted them to? What if they abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself?

She knew it was a common phenomenon in their culture, where the male child was often expected to take care of his wife and children, sometimes at the expense of his own mother. Mama Ademola had seen it happen to many of her friends and acquaintances, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the same fate awaited her.

As she looked at her children, she felt a pang of sadness and fear. She knew that she had to trust them, to believe that they would take care of her the way their father had wanted. But the fear lingered, refusing to be extinguished.

Tunde, sensing his mother’s unease, reached out and took her hand. “Mama, don’t worry,” he said, his voice filled with reassurance. “We’ll take care of you, just like Baba wanted. We promise.”

Mama Ademola smiled weakly, trying to push aside her doubts and fears. She knew that she had to trust her children, to believe that they would do the right thing. And as she looked at them, she felt a sense of hope and determination. She would hold them to their promise, and she would make sure that they kept their word.

As they walked out of the living room, arm in arm, they knew that they would always be there for each other, no matter what challenges lay ahead….

To be continued.

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