I rested my head on my mom's shoulder. Her shoulder was wet with my tears. Decked in a black gown and a scarf on her head, my mom was becoming too weak to cry. If tears were on definite volume in the body, she would have shed more than 90% of it.
Just seven days after the burial of my dad, the extended family head, Uncle Ayo called for a meeting to discuss my father's properties as the culture and tradition demanded.
"Is this not too early?" I had queried Uncle Ayo, who came to inform my mom and me of the meeting two days earlier.
"You don't dictate to us how to handle the death of our lovely brother. The culture demands that we discuss how to allocate his properties seven days after burial. If I were to go with what our suspicion was, this meeting would have been called earlier than now so that you can tell us what you knew about the death," he responded to me in the presence of my mom.
My mom didn't utter a word. She was haplessly sitting like a dog in the den of hyenas. I wanted to respond to him, but he didn't wait for it. He left immediately and banged the door loudly.
"Does this mean we are being accused of knowing something about Daddy's death?" I looked into my mom's eyes and asked.
"Your father died at the wrong time. Since his last breath, I knew that we wouldn't be safe in the hands of his family," she wailed, tapping her lap with her palm.
Now, in front of Uncle Ayo and other relatives of my father, we are waiting for the worst verdict regarding my father's properties. The living room was in a tense situation. Everyone looked at us in disdain.
The last person to join us in the room was my father's younger sister—the youngest among the panel of traditional judges that assembled. Her entrance heralded the beginning of the meeting. Uncle Ayo, my father's older brother, stood to make his remarks.
"Unfortunately, we are gathered here today to talk about the way forward for the family after the untimely demise of my lovely brother. It is not strange to our culture, nor is it strange to my forefathers for a man to marry more than one wife. It got to the case of my brother; his wife made it taboo to allow her husband to welcome another wife. She has decided to do her worst."
My mom had her head bowed while the rain of accusations was falling on her.
"Raise your head, madam; I am addressing you directly at this stage," he shouted at my mom.
Other people nodded in agreement with him. My mom raised her head to listen to the remaining statements.
"Since you have done your worst by choosing to lose your husband instead of welcoming home his second wife, we, his entire family, have ceased to recognize you as his wife henceforth. We have met as a family and reached the following conclusions, which I am about to relate to you.
"You and your daughter are not entitled to any of his properties. Out of our magnanimity, we have decided to give you a bedroom flat in his estate in Jabi. We are doing this for the sake of your daughter. May I inform you that you have no right to control other buildings in that estate or any of our brother's properties elsewhere? You have a three-day ultimatum to pack your belongings and relocate to the new flat allocated to you.
"My people, have I spoken well?" He asked other panel members in the sitting.
"You have spoken well. You can't kill our son and have control over his properties after his demise," my dad's sister responded.
I couldn't believe what I just heard. My crying ceased for a few minutes. I looked at my father's portraits standing at a side of the room and shook my head in disbelief.
I raised my hand to comment, but my mom held my hand back.
"Do you have anything to say? My mom was asked by my Uncle Ayo.
"What does a wicked wife have to say other than perhaps declaring at a party that she has accomplished her mission of killing her husband to prevent him from marrying another wife?" My father's cousin, who hadn't uttered a word since the start of the meeting, queried.
"Thank you very much. I have something to say," my mom responded. "I have heard all that you said. I wish to reject the offer of accommodation in the Jabi estate. My daughter and I will pack out of this house before the expiration of the ultimatum that you gave us. That's all that I have to say."
"Don't forget that you bought none of the cars with your money. They are all owned by our late brother. Keep off them," my uncle stated as they walked out of the room.
I am the only child of my parents. For the past 20 years, all the efforts of my parents to have another child proved abortive.
Three years ago, my paternal family succeeded in convincing my dad to marry another wife so that he could have a male child, which has the right to inheritance according to the culture and tradition. My mom vehemently opposed it.
"As a Christian home, let's trust in God. He can choose to bless us with a male child at his appointed time," my mom had advised my dad to keep his faith in God instead of marrying another wife. "What if you marry another wife and he gives birth to only female children? Are you going to marry another one?" She queried.
My dad insisted on marrying another wife. It was at the peak of the issue that he had a cardiac arrest and was rushed to the hospital. He was pronounced dead a few hours later. The reason for the accusations wasn't farfetched. My mom was accused of killing him instead of allowing him to marry another wife.
Shortly after my father's family left the house, my mom called me to the room, and the arrangement of our belongings began.
"I have called my brother, Mark and informed him. He has agreed to house us for a few days before we get a rented apartment," she told me.
We spent the whole night arranging our loads. The following morning, we left for my maternal uncle's house.
We barely arrived when Mark asked about the details of our experience. We took our time to explain everything to him.
"You are going through all these humiliations, and you kept them away from your family. Why?"
"I wanted to handle my domestic problems without bothering you with them," my mom responded.
"This is beyond your domestic problems. Do you know what it means to be accused of killing your husband? If you allow this status quo to remain, you will live the rest of your life with the stigma. Your husband's family has done their worst. We, as your family, will respond to them legally. If no one is ready to join me, I am equal to the task. We are going to court for this case," he concluded.
"Mark, let me mourn my husband quietly. Whatever properties they took away from us aren't as valuable as the life of my husband that I lost. Let's just ignore them and their troubles," my mom pleaded.
"This is not about the properties but about the tag of a killer being placed on you. We are going to remove that tag," he insisted.
My mom reluctantly allowed him to have his way on the issue.
The case was taken to court a few days later.
While the case was in court, I walked past my father's house, the one we were evicted from, and saw that the house was up for sale. As if it were a coincidence, before I could narrate what I saw for my mom, she told me that a friend called her that my father's fuel station and estate were up for sale.
My father's family had shared all the properties, and some of them were selling theirs.
Uncle Mark informed our lawyer immediately, and the judge handling the case was informed formally. He ruled that the status quo be maintained regarding the properties.
The case dragged on for months before the judgment was given.
"The culture that discriminates based on gender is a barbaric one, and it has no place in our society. You humiliated this woman with her daughter from her husband's property. You accused her of being behind the death of her husband without evidence. You thereafter constituted yourself as a league of scoundrels that were only interested in selling off his properties just a few months after his death. This is condemnable," the judge lampooned my father's family.
"This court hereby gave an order for all the properties of the late Mr. John to be returned to his wife and daughter. Whatever has been sold is retrieved back and handed to the rightful owners. You are also directed that a family meeting be called where an unreserved apology be tendered to Mrs. John and her daughter. The gathering should include but not be limited to the people in the meeting in which they were asked to leave Mr. John's property. Everyone in that first meeting will tender the apology individually," the judge ruled.
My mom and I did not just get justice and freedom; the judgment redefined the right of female children to their father's properties. It was a far-reaching judgment.