There was a crisp tinge to the air that summer afternoon.
The Ibadan heat felt like a stranglehold. The only breeze that day was the ceremony.
We had gotten to the priest earlier in the week to make sure things moved quickly and efficiently.
The whole week was a shit show.
Family had flown in from all over the world on a whim. But the events of that day and the following weeks would leave a lasting impression.
Money talks, but greed uses a megaphone.
It had been exactly 72 days since my father passed away in his sleep while vacationing with his friends in Kenya. He was 65 years old and for the last twenty-five or so years, our family had a routine – we travelled the world for two weeks as a family and Daddy went to link up with his boys.
Friends from their high school days at Wesley College, Ibadan, the six of them would manage to do well for themselves in varying fields – from politicians to lawyers, doctors and businessmen.
My father was a medical doctor in England for two decades before moving back to Nigeria; he would then teach at the University of Ife, go into politics and then fully into business, supplying medical equipment to the government.
A great family man but clearly a man not without his flaws and demons, as you will soon find out.
This year, we swapped the order of our vacation because one of our cousins was due to get married three weeks after this vacation to Kenya.
We decided as a family to start our vacation after Daddy got back from his boys’ trip and end it in Venice, where the wedding was going to be held.
At least that was the plan.
I was surprised when I got a call from his lawyer and confidant that he had passed. I was even more surprised at how well my older sister was giving this eulogy.
“…a dad is someone to look up to, someone to follow, someone to admire, someone to be proud of and someone to brag about, someone to hold and someone to cry with, someone to learn from and someone to respect, someone to listen to and someone to talk to, someone to try and impress – sometimes rebel against – and, someone, most of all, with whom to share everything this wonderful life has to offer.
I am so incredibly grateful and happy that I can stand here today and tell you that I have had all this and much, much more with my dad Chief Ayodele. I am blessed to have had Fehintola as my dad.
To say I loved my dad would be an understatement – and to say I’m going to miss him would be an even greater understatement.
My dad was one of a kind to me, my siblings, my mom, extended family, his friends and the entire community.
Thank you for loving us so deeply daddy – we will never forget you.”
She stepped away and came to stand next to me. She flanked me on my left while my twin younger sisters stood to my right.
My brother stood at the end of the line, next to one of the twins.
My sisters and I were close – very close actually – but my brother, well he was an acquired taste.
Smart and super funny, but dealing with demons that dwarfed even that of my dad.
It quickly put members of the family off.
As the casket was lowered, my mom, who had been crying for most of the service, began wailing even more.
“Ah Fehintola, afi gba to se mi pa. Se eleyi to se yi da?
Ah Fehintola, until you ruined me. Is what you have done fair?”
They restrained her as dirt was poured on the coffin and we began heading to the celebration of life.
It was a big party because of how popular my father was but at 65, it just felt like there was more to his life and it got cut short.
We danced in the streets as traditional drummers played our family oriki. We arrived to a packed stadium and the ceremony began. My mother would eventually join us about 30 minutes later, presumably after she got her makeup retouched.
I don’t really remember the celebration if I am being completely honest. It felt like a bunch of formalities and a lot of ass kissing from those my father gave money to and those that hoped my mother would give to them.
Different organizations with the same story of how my father blessed them with his resources and his kindness.
Blah, blah, blah.
When we got to the house later that afternoon, it was more of the same. Governors and dignitaries from Nigerian states, international guests, business partners, and so on.
A lot of hand shaking and more ass kissing. Some only came to make sure their stream of benefits continued, some came to make sure their business deals were intact. Only a handful really came out of care and concern for my family.
Around 8pm, I had shaken enough hands and I was ready to leave.
My mother was staying in the main house and all the kids had our own homes in the estate. These were gifts my father gave each of us upon graduating college.
I would alternate between my house and the family house where my parents stayed depending on the occasion or the number of people in the 9 bedroom house.
Like the Christmas Taiwo was telling my dad that she was dropping out of medical school, I stayed in my own house because I knew it was going to be a madness.
Shoes and insults were thrown that night.
There was a very different type of tension in the air tonight. I said my goodbyes and got in my car.
I FaceTimed my fiancé Ivie on my way home. She couldn’t make it to the funeral because of a missed connection at Heathrow.
In many ways, I was glad that she didn’t come, nobody needed the extra family drama.
Let’s just say getting ready to marry an Edo woman was already proving difficult with the family.
Who knew what type of wailing my mother would have put on if she saw her.
Sunday morning was low-key. We went to church and sat together like they do in my parent’s Anglican Church.
The Vicar prayed for our family towards the end of the service. More condolences, hugs, and handshakes.
Some of our family members went back to Lagos and other places.
I spent most of the day at the family house, cleaning out my father’s room and organizing his study.
My father and I shared a love for shoes. We would travel to cities and have them custom made or hit the shops to pick out pairs we wanted to use to tension people back in Nigeria.
I remember truly realizing that he was gone as I turned off his TV screen that broadcasted the global stock markets.
He watched them every morning after family prayers and as he took his tea.
The man was gone.
I cried as I drove home that evening.
If I felt like my father was gone, nothing prepared me for what Monday would bring.
When we arrived for the reading of the will, I expected it to be a formality.
Over the years, my father made it clear that things were aligned and clearly shared. The only things we were not clear on were cash and splits.
Stocks in his companies and his portfolios had been given to us and we had account managers handling those for us. Each person had their house and undeveloped land in Ibadan, Lagos and along the Lagos – Ibadan Expressway.
The properties in New York and Los Angeles were to stay with my mom.
I was already running my father’s business with my brother as co-executives. My older sister lived in San Diego and was a software engineer and had her own family.
Taiwo worked in media for a top soccer team in England and Kehinde was a practicing lawyer in Washington DC.
Basically, we were good.
We grew up rich and comfortable thanks to our parents so we did not expect any issues with sharing things
The will reading had the following parties:
My siblings and I
Two representatives for the company’s board of directors
And my older sister’s husband
The lead lawyer opened a sealed envelope and began reading the will.
Money was split, the home went to my mom along with most of the physical properties around the world.
Nobody really cared for the things like the cars and his boat in Lagos.
I got a 40% stake in the company while my brother got 15%; all my sisters got 5% each, bringing the total family ownership to 70%. My sisters also got a higher split on the cash in hand which ran deep into the millions of dollars.
I actually appreciated his rationale around this company ownership. I had worked for him since I was in college and my brother joined the company about 6 years later. So at his time of death, I had invested 10 years of my life into the company.
The bombshell was not even that all of what was split would not go into effect or get to us for 6 months.
As the lawyer wrapped up, he picked up his suitcase and pulled out another sealed envelope.
The moment he pulled it out,
my mother became very uneasy.
He held it in his hands while he said
“Chief Ayodele wanted this to be read after all the assets have been distributed.”
I sat up straight and anticipated the news. He pulled out a paper and began reading,
“I, Fehintola Ayodele, swear that this document is being drafted while I am able bodied and of sound mind. No part of this document is drafted under duress.
Over my life, I have had the privilege of doing some amazing things and building greatness. Without a shadow of doubt, my greatest achievement in my life is being your father.
If this is being read to you then it means that life got to me before I got the chance to tell you this by myself.
It has eaten at me for years and while I know you may be disappointed, I hope that you eventually understand that I did it for your own good.
So here it goes, I am not your biological father. None of you are biologically mine.
A few months after your mother and I got married, I had a terrible accident that completely ruptured my testicles. After many rounds of corrective surgery, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. It ballooned fast and may have been what took me away from you.
Your mother and I had an agreement, we chose someone to reproduce with and I would take full ownership as your father.
I have loved you all as my own and I truly hope that it came out in every interaction we had. You bear my name, you are filled with my love and you are the best gift that God ever gave to me.
I know you will have questions, I expect tons of them especially from those last two. Your mom is the strongest and most loving woman I know. Please give her time and she will answer all your questions as we discussed.
I love you all always.
This family has made my life worth living”
The whole room was stunned to silence.
My mother was sobbing but ever so quietly.
There weren’t many other reactions beyond shock. Disbelief maybe, but mostly shock.
“What The Heck Man” was all I could think of.
Are you enjoying this series so far? You pictured the funeral, imagined the home? If you are liking what you are reading, welcome to the WhatTheHeckMan family.
In case you missed my most recent series “Scar Tissue”, please read them at the links below.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
Don’t forget to leave me a comment at the end and answer the poll + please re-share this to your social media platforms. Let’s continue growing the family! Thank you!
I was sitting in my car in the driveway.
My legs had no power to walk. I am not even sure how I drove home with tears in my eyes.
Everything in my life felt rocked. Everything felt like a lie.
My head was resting on the steering wheel when I heard a knock on the window.
I turned to my left and it was my childhood friend Adesuwa.
She was the daughter of one of my father’s closest friends and former business partner.
I wound down the window and said,
“Suwa, what are you doing here?”
She smiled and replied,
“I came to check on you. I just heard what happened. Was on my way back to Lagos and I had to stop by and check on you. Are you okay?”
I wasn’t even sure if I was okay.
“Are you sure?”
“I mean, I guess. I just have so many questions and I am not even sure where to begin getting answers or if I really want those answers.”
She nodded and said,
“I can only imagine”
She then said,
“Come inside, let me make you something to eat and we can talk and take your mind off this.”
We headed inside and I was sitting on the couch while she was in the kitchen.
I actually dozed off while she was in the kitchen.
There wasn’t much talking that actually happened.
When she came out, she had made some rice and stew with plantains. We sat and ate together.
As we ate and watched TV, she went to the wine cabinet and picked out a Red that we opened.
About 35 minutes after we were done eating, I opened another bottle.
Adesuwa and I were always close.
We actually lost our virginity to each other way back in SS2, way before our parents knew anything of us.
Then we dated briefly when I first returned to Nigerian from getting my Masters in Chicago.
We stopped being as close when I started dating Ivie.
Just to avoid drama and issues.
But that night, something in me wanted to be reckless. It wasn’t the alcohol, that’s cowardly.
It was me.
As we started talking, I said to her,
She smiled sheepishly and said,
I tapped my lap and motioned to her.
She came over, placed her glass on the coffee table and turned to me with a smile on her face.
I immediately kissed her.
Kissing my way down her body, I laid her on the couch as I slid up her dress.
Finding my way to her pink, her wet immediately covered my lips.
She let out a gasp of relief.
It was like our lips were meeting for the first time.
They tasted like a homemade white chocolate candy. Super sweet.
I delved deeper.
My tongue parted ways as I searched her inner walls.
As she dripped down my lips and on to my beard, my tongue flipped into overdrive as I tried to get it all.
Nothing was to be wasted.
As I slurped and my tongue went from left to right at uncontrollable speed, she clutched the pillows.
She placed her legs on my shoulders and gripped them around my neck, it only sent me further into pleasure.
I dug deeper.
Licking faster; nibbling on her clit.
Then she went silent as I vibrated on her clit; I knew what was coming.
So, faster my tongue went.
And then faster, covering every inch of her pulsing pink.
I was working like I was auditioning for a position.
I missed her. I missed sex. It was completely non existent in my relationship.
She squeezed her legs tighter around my neck and let out her squeal!
Her sharp moan kissed my ears like a nip on your bottom lip.
I rose to take off my pants and released my throbbing member.
As we walked into the room, she asked me to lay down.
Flat on my back I lay, as she climbed on top of me.
The heat and warmth was insane. Her wet dripped down my throbbing shaft.
She placed both hands on my nipples and stroked them as she rolled her hips on me.
No words, just eye contact.
She was driving me insane. I closed my eyes and I knew.
I quickly turned her over.
Her face went straight into the bed and her ass perfectly served up to me.
I slid in behind her and thrust in slowly.
Quickly, the pace picked up. Her cheeks bounced as I slid in and out of her.
I could feel the base of my balls slamming into her wet clit and splattering all over me.
She reached under and tickled my balls as I thrust into her.
I grabbed a handful of her braids as I exploded and pumped her full.
We slumped next to each other stark naked with most of her clothes downstairs and mine too.
After a few minutes, she got up and went to get her clothes. As she walked out of the room, she said,
“Can I get a shirt to sleep in please?”
I ruffled through the closet and found one.
Tossing it on the bed, I headed into the bathroom to wash up.
About 5 minutes later, I returned while she was putting on the shirt and tucking her things into the corner of the room.
As she hopped into the bed with me, she said,
“So Plan B tomorrow?”
I smiled and said,
“You know the drill.”
“Jk, I’m on birth control”
I laughed and replied,
I think we chatted for a few more minutes but I remember the very last thing was that she leaned over and kissed me on my forehead.
It must have been 4am in the morning when I heard my name out of my sleep.
“Tomiwa, wake the fuck up.”
As I opened my eyes, I noticed Adesuwa was pointing a gun at me.
Not sure what was going on, I put my hands up and asked,
“Adesuwa, what is going on?”
“Please don’t talk. Just don’t say anything.”
Still confused and half naked, I asked again,
“Suwa, did I do something? IS this a joke?
What is going on?”
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
I chimed back.
“Close your eyes.”
I was taking too long. So she yelled again,
“Close your eyes Tomiwa!”
I closed my eyes and that was when it happened.
I heard the shots.
End of Part 1. Please like this story, leave a comment below, and share social media!
~Release part 2 early? 20 comments and we have a deal~ Share with your friends and family to get us to 20!
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
© 2020 #WhatTheHeckMan