“As we are gathered here to celebrate the life of Victor Owusu-Bempong, we write this tribute to honour his memory as our father. A man whose journey through life was as complex as it was transformative…”

The day of Mr. Owusu-Bempong’s funeral had finally arrived. As Becky stood beside her older brother, with Arabella and Owusua on his other side, she observed the mourners before them.

The chapel was silent except for the occasional rustling of clothes or a faint cough, and the atmosphere was expectedly thick with grief and reflection. Rows of solemn faces, some teary, some stoic, turned to them, waiting to hear what they had to say to the man lying lifeless in the coffin in front of the altar.

“… this thing called life is a journey, and journeys, as we know, are rarely smooth. Like all of us, he stumbled. Like all of us, he faced his own struggles and flaws…”

The children had agreed that their tribute would neither outline his preposterous activities and paint him black, nor lie and claim he was a wonderful father. They had decided to focus mainly on his final moments with them, as those moments were worth speaking about. At least, that would bring some honour to his memory. A large number of people present knew of his foolish choices, but not many knew how he had seen the light before dying. It was best they got to know this through the ones most affected.

“In his final hours, we had the privilege of being with him. It was a time of reflection, a time of truth, and a time of grace. As he lay there, frail but determined, he shared with us the deepest desires of his heart. He spoke of his love for us, his children, and how he longed for the chance to mend what had been broken.

“We will never forget the look in his eyes. There was pain, yes, but there was also hope. Hope that, in those final moments, he could show us who he truly was beyond his mistakes. He asked for our forgiveness, not just with his words, but with his whole being. And we, standing by his bedside, gave it freely, not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. Necessary for him and for us.”

Becky nodded gravely. No lies there.

“In that moment, our father taught me something profound in those moments: that it is never too late to seek redemption. That even at the edge of life, there is room for grace and for love. We may not fully understand the path he walked, and we don’t need to agree with it, but we honor his willingness to make peace before the end.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the congregation, and Becky caught sight of an elder nodding solemnly in the corner of the church.

Amankwaah glanced down at the folded paper in his hand, then back at the congregation. “As we bid him farewell today, let us remember Victor Owusu-Bempong not only for his faults but for his humanity. For the love he carried in his heart, even when it was buried deep. For the lessons he taught us about forgiveness and the enduring power of family. Rest well, Papa. You are finally at peace. And in our hearts, so are we.”

***

The muted hum of conversation filled the air as mourners moved about the reception area later on in the afternoon. After joining her siblings to see off their father at his final resting place, Becky quickly returned to the funeral grounds to help attend to the mourners present, even though Nana Asor, Delasi and Olivia were already helping out.

It was not an easy task. Every table had something that needed attending to, and she found herself occupied for at least fifteen minutes.

She finally found a moment to herself near one of the ice coolers. As she crouched to retrieve a cold bottle of water, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Becky?”

She turned swiftly, her heart skipping a beat as she saw who it was.

Standing a few steps away was Rakim, dressed in a crisp black kaftan. His presence was magnetic, his smile warm despite the solemnity of the moment.

“Wow, Rakim,” she said softly, a flicker of surprise and something else, something warmer, crossing her face. “You, you came.”

“Of course,” he replied, stepping closer. “I couldn’t not be here. I had to pay my respects.” His voice was low and sincere. “And, you know… to be here for you.”

Becky felt a lump rise in her throat but swallowed it down. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

Rakim nodded, his gaze steady. “Your tribute to your father was… incredibly moving. Authentic. It takes strength to speak like that, especially in a moment like this.”

“Well, uh, it was Amankwaah who spoke,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He found the right words for all of us.”

“Still, it came from the heart. That much was clear. You honoured him in a way that touched everyone here. Including me.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of the reception seeming to fade into the background. Rakim’s expression softened as he leaned slightly closer and held her hand. “Becky… it’s not easy to lose someone this dear, but I hope you’re finding comfort in the support around you. And in knowing that it is well.”

Becky felt a rush of adrenalin rush through her veins as he cradled her hand in his. She smiled faintly, the corners of her lips barely lifting. “Thank you, Rakim. That means a lot, truly. And yes, of course, my people are helping me out.”

He hesitated, as if there was more he wanted to say, but then glanced at his watch. “Ummm… I should get going. I can see you’re busy and I… I didn’t want to intrude too long.”

“Oh, you’re not intruding at all,” she replied quickly, then caught herself. “But I understand. Thank you for coming.”

“Sure thing. I’ll call you later, alright?” he assured.

She nodded, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll be waiting.”

Rakim gave her a small smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd. She watched his retreating figure, her eyes tracing his deliberate stride while he made his way through the sea of guests and sympathizers.

She could still feel that rush of excitement flowing through her body when she heard another voice.

“Mm-mm-mm! Now who was that?” Olivia’s voice rang as she appeared beside Becky, a mischievous glint in her piercing eyes. “Handsome, well-dressed, and that voice? Lord have mercy! That is some fine caramel chocolate right there.”

Becky shook her head, stifling a laugh at that description. “Fine caramel chocolate paaa? Ei, Olivia!” she snickered. “Well, anyways, his name is Rakim. He’s Clarence’s boss. And uh… we’ve, um, been talking a bit lately.”

“Ohhhh, Rakiiiiiiiiiim,” Olivia repeated, dragging out his name with exaggerated drama. “My Lord, handsome men dey this country ampa! I mean, look at him: tall, smooth, bald, looking like he’s dipped in sweet caramel. This man is a spice! And it looks like you’re feeling him.”

Becky felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Liv, stop,” she said, half laughing, half mortified. “You’re making it sound like-”

“Like the truth?” Olivia interjected, folding her arms and giving her a raised eyebrow. “Come on, Becky. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve got that same expression I had when I first started meeting up with Dela, so I know it. You’ve caught feelings, haven’t you?”

Becky bit her lip and looked away. This was not something she wanted to admit. But there was no point in hiding it from Olivia, who clearly seemed to know what the feeling was like. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “I… I guess I do like him. There’s just something about him. He’s kind, thoughtful, and… ugh, I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but it’s there.”

“Of course it is! My dear, it’s written all over your face, in case you don’t know. And the way he was looking at you? Believe me. He’s just as smitten. Just give it some time, wai.”

Becky sighed and nodded as Olivia placed a hand on her shoulder. “You think something could come out of this?”

“Absolutely! And with everything going on, you deserve someone like him,” Olivia insisted, her tone softening. “Someone who sees you, who’s there for you. Trust me. Let things happen. You might be surprised where it leads.”

As Becky nodded, Nana Asor, holding an empty tray, approached them slowly, fanning herself with the tray. “Herh, Awurade! I am tirrreeedddd! I think I’ve served enough plates to feed an entire village. Twice!”

Becky and Olivia laughed. “Ebei, Asor!” Olivia laughed. “I know you’ve been busy, but this one that you’re doing like you’ve run a marathon diɛɛ…”

Nana Asor smirked. “Livi, my sister, you don’t know, you dunno why is goin on…”

The trio laughed at the old reference. Then Olivia commented, “But on a serious note, though, you’ve been amazing, Asor. Like, the way you’ve been running around, making sure everyone is taken care of, it shows just how much of a real friend you are. Honestly, Becky is so blessed to have you as her best friend.”

Those words sparked a warmth in Becky’s heart.

She reached over and took Nana Asor’s hand, her laughter fading into something more tender.

“That couldn’t be truer, Olivia. This girl, we have our ups and downs, but… I could never imagine life without having her as my best friend. In fact, she’s more than a best friend mpo, she’s a sister. Since our childhood, from the days of sitting next to each other, dancing to NSYNC’s ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’, Asor campaigning for me to win Miss Columba back in school… look, we’ve had a beautiful journey together.

“From JSS to GeyHey to Legon and beyond, we’ve had a tight bond. And no matter what, we show up for each other. When Asor was struggling over her feelings for Bruce, I was there for her. When my dad left and I was dealing with all that rage and hurt, she was there for me. When my mother died, she was there for me. Through her personal issues, I’ve been there for her.

“It’s not like our relationship is perfect; we’ve had our fights. We insult each other over the stupidest things, but that’s all fun and games. At the end of the day, in so many ways, Asor has carried me when I felt like I couldn’t take another step. She’s been my strength when mine was gone. And today, just watching her go all out for me and my family… it’s just a reminder of how blessed I am to have her in my life.”

Nana Asor’s eyes shimmered as she blinked back tears, her breath catching as she imbibed this glowing tribute. As Olivia grew teary-eyed as well, Becky squeezed her hand. “I love you, Asor. I don’t say it enough, since I’d rather insult you for being silly, but trust me, I do. I love you so much. With all my heart.”

“Oh, Becky…” Nana Asor whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She sniffed and pulled Becky into a tight embrace. “I love you too, my sister. Always and forever, baby girl.”

“Awww, this is beautiful. So beautiful,” Olivia gasped, a tear running down her cheek as she observed the two loving on each other.

The hug lingered, filled with unspoken gratitude and deep affection. When they finally pulled apart, Nana Asor held on to Becky’s hand. “Trust me, I’ll always be there for you. Always.”

“I know you will,” Becky whispered. And for a moment, they stood there, smiling at each other, reveling in the strength and beauty of their lifelong bond.

Wiping her eyes, a wicked smirk crossed Olivia’s face. “Okay, listen, I’ve done enough crying in the last few weeks, I need some mischief. Asor, what do you think about the guy Becky’s falling in love with?”

The two froze and turned to her. Becky clenched her teeth. “Aaaaagh! I should’ve told you not to tell her! Why did you tell her? Whyyyyyy??”

Nana Asor’s face was now clear, with a smirk on her face. “Asayy, Olivia, is it some handsome light-skinned guy bi?”

“Exaaaactlyyyyy! Some fine caramel chocolate bi like that. Rakim.”

“Ahaaaa, Rakim!” Nana Asor turned to Becky, an evil smile on her face. “So you’ve been calling him for loans, eh?”

Becky buried her face in her palm. “Oh my God…”

“So you’ve been going for loans, eh? Have you been loaning his distin downstairs…”

“Oh my God, Asor!”

“Okay, Asor, I think you’re going a little too far now…”

A beautiful show of sisterly love between Becky and Nana Asor there, that’s for sure. And yep, looks like Becky’s falling for Rakim…