BETWEEN HAWKS AND VULTURES

 I grew up to know this wealthy elderly woman as my mother. Her peers called her Mama Alade, Alade is my name, while younger ones especially her  siblings called her “Sisi mi”which could mean my sister. She was the eldest in the family. She trained most of her junior ones. She also extended her generosity to members of the extended family.

Sisi mi was a prominent food seller in town. Customers from high and lower cadre of the society patronized her. This was at the time the seat of power was in Lagos, therefore ministers used to send their staff to buy food from our canteen. Commissioners and top civil servants always came from Alausa.

She showered me with love and did not allow me to lack anything. I went to the best schools in town. I was in the boarding house throughout my secondary school days. When it was time for me to go to the university, she made sure I attended one of the best.

The worst happened when I went for one year mandatory National Youth Service corps programme. I received this message that I should come home immediately. It took me two days before I could arrive.

Immediately the taxi dropped me in front of our house, I knew something tragic had happened. The usual bubbling and hustling that characterized our house were lacking. On entering the family sitting room, I saw the eldest male child of the family addressing some members.

When he saw me, he pointed at me and said – “Hen! hen! Here he comes, welcome Alade, how was your journey? I am sorry to inform you that “Sisi mi” is dead! She died three days ago and she had been buried. You can have your seat.”

He continued speaking; I was lost in thought, thinking about the loss, when I heard my name again.

“Alade! Are you listening to me? I was saying Sisi mi is not your mother. Your real mother was one of her workers. The young woman joined Sisi mi carrying a child. That baby was you. She died after working for her for about four years. We could not trace her relations. That is how Sisi mi whom we all knew was childless took over your responsibilities.”

“In short, you are not her biological son, therefore by inference; you don’t have any inheritance in this family. You should be eternally grateful for the training she had given you.”

He looked around and raised his voice for confirmation. “Have I spoken for all the members of this noble family?” 

They all chorused in unison: “Yes, Olori Ebi, you have spoken well!” I took a cursory look at all of them. These were people I knew throughout my life as my kit and kin. Alhaja’s wealth has beclouded them. They all looked like hawks and vultures hovering over a carcass.

I could not control my emotion again. I burst into weeping. None of them consoled me. They were whispering. I plucked up courage and stood up, opened the door and stormed out of the room. I sighted the boy who carried my bag, collected it and walked out of the compound, I felt lonely.

On the second thought, I dismissed all ill-feelings I had towards them. The head of the family was saying the truth, though he said it with a taint of greed. Sisi mi had trained me to the level where I should be able to take proper care of myself without reliance on any inheritance.

I boarded the next vehicle to my base. My next move was to trace my root. Unfortunately, I could not acheive this.

The crux of the story was that one of the grand children had used the large house as collateral for a loan in the bank. When he could not pay, the bank decided to sell the house. Somebody came to inform me because I was one of the military brasses in town. I decided to buy the house. I demolished it and constructed a shopping complex there. I named it Sisi mi – Mama Alade Shopping Complex.

If you shop in Lagos, probably you have bought things from my shopping complex!