‘I was quite touched,’ she concluded.

‘I hope Daddy didn’t get upset about him coming,’ I said.

‘I don’t think so. At first, I wasn’t sure how your daddy would react to seeing him, but I felt it would be wrong to leave him standing in the reception. He didn’t stay for too long before he left. But while he was there, your daddy didn’t really show any emotions.’

‘On second thoughts,’ I said, ‘maybe it would have been better if he had been upset. That might have been what he needs to finally force him to say something intelligible.’

To my relief, my mother laughed at my morbid joke. These days, her face looked less tired. I had not heard her laugh so heartily in a very long time.

‘The nurses have been treating me differently since Boniface came,’ she continued. ‘He seems to be quite popular here in Aba. They kept telling me that they had no idea he was my brother. Some were asking if he’s my real brother or just a relative. When he was leaving, he even dashed them some dollars for lunch and told them to make sure they took care of his brother-in-law.’ She smiled like a happy child. ‘He wanted to lodge me in his hotel so that I can go there and be spending the night instead of staying here, but I refused.’

I could understand my father’s point of view, but, in truth, I was beginning to appreciate my uncle more and more. He had been so kind, so generous, so helpful. Right now, it did not matter where he got the money from. How would we have made it this far without him?

‘You should have agreed to go to the hotel,’ I said to my mother.

‘No, no, no. I’m fine. I want to be here whenever your daddy needs me.’

If only I had been there when Uncle Boniface made the offer, I would not have minded taking it up for myself. Truth be told, this daily travelling to and from Umuahia was quite debilitating.

‘Anyway,’ my mother continued. ‘He asked me to tell you to come and see him before you go back to Umuahia today.’

‘What does he want to see me about?’

‘He didn’t say. He just said I should tell you to stop at his house before you go.’

‘Maybe he wants to give me some more money.’

‘I thought so too,’ she agreed quickly. ‘He’s really been very kind to us during this difficult period. I only wish his money were not so filthy.’

‘His money might be filthy, but at least it’s being used for a good cause.’

My mother paused and thought.

‘Well, I suppose you’re right,’ she agreed eventually.

‘What about Charity? If I’d known I’d be going to see Uncle Boniface from here, I wouldn’t have come with her today.’

My mother considered.

‘It doesn’t matter. You can take her along. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. After all, we’ll eventually have to tell your daddy where we got most of the money for his treatment from and he would probably want to thank Boniface personally.’

That would be the marvel of all marvels. The word ‘probably’ was the most active part of that sentence.

‘Open my gate now!’ Cash Daddy bellowed.

Charity jolted like a firecracker. By now, I was unperturbed by these outbursts, but as we walked into the mammoth mansion, I worried about my sister’s tender sensibilities. Cash Daddy’s environment was not really the place for a lady.

We sat in the living room, and the well-fed sentry of the other day opened the refrigerator. I declined his offer while Charity threw her mouth open in amazement. Expecting to hear a response from her, the man left the cooling machine open.

‘No, thank you,’ I responded on her behalf. I knew Cash Daddy was likely to offer us food when we went upstairs.

The man had just slammed the refrigerator door shut when Protocol Officer came downstairs.

‘Kingsley, Cash Daddy is ready to see you,’ he said.

I held Charity’s hand and stood.

Upstairs, Cash Daddy was lying spread-eagled on the bed. Two striking ladies with dazzling light skin and ample mammary glands were with him. One was sitting at his feet with her eyes glued to the vast MTV screen, the other was pressing a pimple on his face with her fingers. Thankfully, all three of them were fully clothed. The girls were in short dresses. Their knees and knuckles were black where the bleaching cream had refused to work. Cash Daddy was wearing a white linen suit and a pair of oxblood shoes that looked as if they had been crafted in the Garden of Eden.

Cash Daddy saw Charity and sat up straight. He pushed the pimple-presser away. A smile struggled through the mass of fat on his face and finally shone through.

‘Ah! Is this not Charity?’ He beamed. ‘I didn’t recognise her at first. Look at this little girl of yesterday. You’ve already started growing breasts.’

Charity blushed. He reached out a chunky arm and swept her close to his chest. Suddenly, the smile seeped back into his face.

‘Be careful,’ he said seriously, wagging a chubby finger at her. ‘Be very, very careful. Very soon, all these stupid boys will start chasing you up and down. Make sure you don’t allow them to deceive you. That’s all they know how to do – to deceive small, small girls. Do you hear me?’

She turned her eyes to the floor and nodded coyly. Actually, I had never had cause to worry about my sister going astray. Charity had a good head on her shoulders.

Cash Daddy asked us to sit. He lifted the headset by his bed and shouted for his cook. I asked the man for pounded yam and egusi soup. Charity asked for fried rice and goat meat. The food arrived just as Cash Daddy’s cellular phone rang. He lifted the gadget and shouted into the mouthpiece.

‘Speak to me!’

After several minutes, he concluded his deafening conversation with someone called Long John Dollars. Then he dialled another number. The second phone call, about some money in his Barclays Bank Docklands account, kept him occupied until we finished our meals. Then he leaned over and opened the refrigerator by his bed. He pulled out a packet of McVitie’s milk chocolate biscuits and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s vanilla ice cream. He dumped the items casually on the stool in front of Charity.

‘Stay here and demolish these goodies,’ he commanded her.

My sister’s face lit up. When we were children, my father usually returned from work with these sorts of imported treats. Gradually, they had gone out of reach of the common man. I could not remember the last time I had eaten any McVities biscuits.

‘We’re going upstairs but we’re coming back now,’ Cash Daddy continued.

He headed out of the room.

‘Kingsley, follow me,’ he said without looking back.

I obeyed.

We went on to the fourth floor. He removed a key from his trouser pocket and opened a door. He stood aside to let me pass, then locked it behind us. It was the first time I had seen him open a door – or perform any other minor task, for that matter – without assistance from his numerous attendants. It was a weird sight, like seeing a United States president, say Bill Clinton, leaning over the bathroom sink and washing his socks.

This room was similar to his office. It had a mahogany desk with a budget of papers on top, and a worktop lined with fax machines, computers, and telephones. I spied a Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation letterheaded sheet amongst the pile on the table. There were several other letterheaded sheets that I could not make out.

I sat in front of the desk. Cash Daddy dragged a chair beside mine and sat with his knees massaging my own knees. He looked serious, like a doctor about to inform me that I was in the last stages of colon cancer.

‘I was at the hospital to see your daddy,’ he began. ‘I’m happy that he’s getting better.’

‘Thank you very much, Uncle,’ I replied. ‘We’re really happy, too. And we’re also very grateful for all your financial support. Thank you very much.’