Uncle Bayo

The Reading of the Will took place on Monday morning, in the front room of the Adeleke house, with a lawyer, a pot of tea, and Uncle Bayo.

Bayo Adeleke was her father's younger brother. A plump, prosperous, genial man of sixty-two, with a gold watch, a rich laugh and a way of patting you on the shoulder that made you feel you were being appraised for sale. He had made his fortune in property. He wore a cream agbada and sat on the best sofa with his legs crossed.

"My dear niece," he said. "I am so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"He was a good man. A saint. But a poor businessman." His smile did not waver. "Between us, he left things in a bit of a state."