I grew up knowing that my paternal grandmother was a wealthy woman who preferred acting poor. She never spent her money on herself when she was alive.
“My children, I don’t have any money,” my paternal grandmother would say when we advise her to use her money to buy something for herself. We knew she hid all her money somewhere, but we didn’t know where exactly it was hidden.
One day, my paternal grandmother became very sick, and we rushed her to the hospital. Sadly, she passed away on the hospital bed shortly after pulling me close to her to whisper in my ear.
I was displeased that I couldn’t hear her last words due to the way she coughed repeatedly while trying to whisper in my ear.
We hired a few men to excavate a pit for her corpse a day before the funeral. And while we were in the sitting room, planning the funeral, the men who were digging the pit in the backyard, screamed in fear and ran inside the sitting room as they pant for breath.
“We just discovered something strange under the ground.” One of the men spoke out. “You all should come and see it immediately!”
We looked at ourselves in awe and stood up from our seats. “What did you guys see?” We asked the men curiously. “Take us there right now!” We demanded.
We all hurried to the backyard to see the strange thing ourselves, and when we reached there, what we saw got us amazed. We saw three large Italian leather golden color bags, each of which was filled up with cash.
We brought out the bags from the pit and counted the money; it was a whopping amount of money that was inside the three bags.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I got to know the huge amount of money my paternal grandmother had buried under the ground. ‘Who gave her such an idea? Why did she bury her money under the ground?’ I wondered.
We didn’t use the money to do anything. We kept it in a safe place till the funeral was concluded.
A family meeting was held after two days of the funeral. The purpose of the meeting was to discuss the mystery money that was discovered under the ground.
My uncle stood up and boldly declared he would take the money all by himself, claiming to be the only son of my grandmother, and the fact that he made the most financial contributions to the funeral.
His statement stunned us all, but neither I nor my aunts got upset or retorted his statement. We all allowed him to carry out his desire. Our utmost joy was how we did a successful burial ceremony.
It was one week already since my uncle took all the money we found under the ground.
I was leafing through a book outside in the evening as I sat on a stool beneath my late grandmother’s mango tree when I heard a man coming toward me and talking loudly to himself like an insane person.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found out that the person was my uncle. He came looking tattered and depressed. The three large Italian leather golden color bags he took the other day were with him; two in his hands and one on his head. He dropped them and sat on the ground. “I want to confess,” he said in a trembling voice.
I immediately closed the book I was holding and ran into the house to invite everybody over to witness the drama that was about to take place. Everybody came out and stood while they folded their arms and paid attention to my uncle.
“I was responsible for your father’s death.” My uncle said, pointing his finger at me. I controlled myself from blowing things out of all proportion, then sat down on the stool, pulled closer to him, and kept my ears open.
He continued,
“I felt envious and poisoned your father because your grandmother preferred your father to me. Your grandmother hid all her money because of me. She knew I would’ve taken all of it for myself if I had seen it.
I didn’t feel like myself the whole time I was with the money, and I was unable to think properly or do anything for myself until your grandmother’s ghost appeared and ordered me to return the money if I wanted to be free.
Please, you all should find a place in your hearts and forgive me. I’ve returned the money, and I don’t want it again.” My uncle pleaded as he wept and knelt on the ground.
After listening to my uncle’s confession, we decided to turn the other cheek. We helped him off the ground, wiped his tears with our hands, and told him everything would be fine. We consoled him.
The following night, my grandmother revealed herself to me in my dream and instructed me on what to do with the money, and I did exactly as she told me.
I donated all of the money to the orphanage home in our village; everyone praised me for my generosity, and things started flourishing for us(myself, my uncle, and my aunts.)
I got admission into a university to study English in a foreign country, my uncle got a job in an oil company, and all my aunts got married and were blessed with beautiful kids.
