WHO KILLED LAILAH ADO?

3: The Will

2017

Fists flew in every direction, fuming, sweaty and raging men flexing their muscles as if their lives depended on it. They were cursing and hurling insults at one another as they fought. The hatred and disdain clearly showing as the swung their fists at each other. Those fake smiles and laughter were all forgotten as they all had one intention in mind, to beat the living daylights out of each other. An outsider would mark them as enemies if shown a clip of this brutal fight, whereas they are blood relatives. They had the same blood flowing through each and every one of them, but that did not matter today because they had blocked their ears from each other's voice, there by obstructing the ability to be heard. They were each trying to get themselves understand each other, but how possible is it to get one angry man understand another angry man.

The women, who are wives, sibling, nieces, and cousins cramped themselves in a corner in the living room to avoid getting hit as they watched their husbands, cousins, in-laws and uncles demand respect from each other in the most disturbing and pathetic way ever. Some had their hands clasped over their mouths, to subdue the sobs that was escaping their mouths.

The oldest man was seated at the very front of the ginormous living room, watching as his kin fought and humiliated themselves just because of someone else's wealth. He watched as they tore on each other's clothes screaming like lunatics. The windows of the living room were wide open, and the fans worked very well yet, the living room remained stuffy. Nothing could beat the smell of sweaty men.

When one of the nephews picked up a wooden stool heading towards his step brother, the oldest man had used his walking stick to smash a glass vase beside him, surprising them. They remained rigid for some seconds before they started unhanding each other. They all withdrew their holds on each other slowly and then they strated assessing the amount of damage they had incurred on themselves. Those whose clothes were torn, started trying to patch it up by gathering the torn part in their hands. Those whose caps had fallen off went ahead to pick their properties from the ground shamefully.

They were suddenly composed, looking for spaces to crouch and sit on, brushing against each other to show dominance and resilience. They scrambled around before settling down. Each, adjusting and straightening their rumpuled clothing. It was not over, it would never be over.

The women, very sure that another wrestling match wasn't about to break out had slowly dispersed from the corner which they were hiding to their various husbands, nephews to show in whose favour they were.

The two children of the deceased had been the only ones who remained seated when the fight broke out because they were the only one truly grieving for the death of their parents. They had watched as their relatives showcased their high amount of indifference they had towards the death of their brother, uncle, cousin.

"For the very first time in my 79 years of living in this world, I am ashamed to be called a Galadima" the oldest man had said loudly much to the discomfort of the fist fighters. "How could you humiliate yourselves like that? How could you disregard the codes and conduct of this family, fighting like goons while the body of the deceased is still warm, in his bedroom, yet to be buried. How can you fight over the wealth of another person? The wealth which absolutely none of you sweated for, the wealth none of you actually worked for. The wealth none of you laboured for. The wealth which has a successor. Are you forgetting he left his two children in your care? Your entitlements can only come when his children receive theirs! You're a disgrace to our sacred family name" He bellowed waving his walking stick around pointing at each and every relative involved in the fight. They all looked down, scared to meet his gaze. They did not quite agree with his statement about their share in wealth but nobody could argue with Alhaji Kaka because for now, he is the head of the family.