OWOLABI

 

It's a Thursday morning and there's what could only be described as a torrent of people in front of the only mansion in the neighbourhood.

Now, the number of people there isn't a surprise here. What is surprising is the variance in the predisposition of the persons. Some were crying, wailing, rolling on the ground, others were looking bemused, confused and lost.

"Kilewi? Taloku? Hahh! Temibami! Owo school omo mi!", screamed one of the women there.

You're probably wondering who these people are, where they are and why that woman was screaming about her child's school fees.

The mansion in question belonged to Chief Owolabi Olabomi alias "OwO, the money bag"(trust me, I agree that the nickname's tacky).

Chief Owolabi was the richest man in the town who was born the son of the richest man of the town who was in turn the son of the richest man of the town. You get the picture. Theirs was the typical generational wealth story. One of their forefathers took a risk or stole money ( which it was, we'll never know) and started the family business which grew larger and spread wider with each generation.

He was a big man who by clinical standards would be termed obese. Like any and every other man, he had his vices. He smoked cigarettes like a chimney, drank alcohol like a bar and ran through women like a sub-standard brothel. In his defence, the women chased after him like gold. He was gold to them. Some people would call him snobbish but such was the fate of the rich and famous.

And like most men, he also had his virtues. He was generous to a fault. He couldn't stand to see people suffering. People would say that nobody who went into his house crying left with tears in their eyes. He owned different foundations and organised different charity projects, any excuse to give out money to the needy. As a result, he was generally loved by most of all and sundry. Would you call that love though?

He was also very kind. You might think that kindness and generosity were two peas in a pod, you'll find though that they're not always synonymous. Chief Owolabi treated his workers like family. He was the most patient with them, even while reprimanding them. He even remembered their birthdays!

On this faithful day, he had been talking with one of his wives ( he had 4) when he suddenly slumped and died. The wife couldn't believe that people died, that people like Owolabi could die. In her disbelief, she'd continued to hit him and shake him. She'd switched it up sometimes and sweet-talked him. She'd kissed him all over his face, anything to make him wake up. "I'll cook your favourite meal today, Olowo Ori mi. That efo riro that you like so much, I promise to cook it for you. Please wake up. Don't leave me here. You can't leave me here." She'd said, crying all the while.

He was gone though. Gone like the wind. Never to be heard again.

The question about the manner of his death then arose after everyone had accepted to some extent that he was indeed dead. He slumped? Nobody died like that. He was as healthy as a horse. Someone must have killed him. Who would though? Owolabi was better alive ( to anybody) than dead.

The family then decided to do an autopsy. The cause of his death must be ascertained, they thought. On the day that they went for the autopsy, about 5 cars had followed the main vehicle that had his body. It was like an entourage for a politician. Except Owolabi had been more than a politician to those who knew him. He'd been a mini-god.

The autopsy room had about 3 other bodies bundled up together in queue for cut up. His uncle had called in a favour and he was put first in line. Nepotism worked, even in death. Owolabi who'd lived in a house that was bigger than any 3 houses around his vicinity was put on a table that was slimy and dirty looking. Owolabi who bathed with water that was specially purified with ingredients from abroad was handled with brownish water. Owolabi who'd dined with princes and presidents. His body that he'd spent a considerable amount of money to groom was cut open and all of his insides extracted. Owolabi was truly naked in and out.

His heart and liver were about 2 times the normal size. That's what the doctors had said. He'd always been the first at most things, he'd won here as well. Guess the beers and cigars finally caught up with him.

Owolabi who was born from wealth, into wealth, lived in wealth and had eventually died in wealth.

Zaynab Arogundade