I
got on a plane last week... and I was terrified. The closer I got to the door
of the aircraft, the more I felt a cold draft of fear – acute and intense fear
– go through me. The first thing I did
when I got into the plane was look in the direction of the cockpit – as if for
some sign that I was going to be okay. As I fastened my seatbelt and stowed my
bags away, I wondered “Girl, what was that about? I thought you stopped being
afraid of death 5 years ago?”
The
month of March is a particularly difficult one for me. Every day from the 17th
to the 26th , I find myself
rehashing and re-living the process of my brother’s accident, death and
funeral. The utter and sheer unexpectedness of it all is still very hard to
grasp; and as the years have rolled on, I have taught myself that death would
come, whether I want it to or not. I also know that neither me, nor my
household is immune from the randomness and the scythe of The Grim Reaper.
Who’s
to say you’re not going to get on a plane with a depressed pilot in the
cockpit? How do you know that you’re not going to be standing at Cele bus stop
and you won’t get run down by a drunken tanker driver? What are the odds that
you’ll wake up tomorrow? Before you
mutter ‘It’s not my portion’, you have to remember , ‘ Eyan Le Ku Any F**king
Time’ (ELKAFT) – translated to mean “A
person can die at any frigging time”. ELKAFT is something that we all need to
be aware of, consequently, we need to pay attention to some things like
planning for when you’re no longer around.
As
Nigerians, deeply steeped in eternal faith based optimism, we don’t really put
a lot of stock in having properly documentation in preparation for death. Every time I talk to someone about having a
will, they smile and say “I’m not going anywhere yet. I shall live to declare…”
The lawyer in me keeps wondering what that even means.
Family
law and law of Succession were arguably my favourite courses in Unilag. Between Professor Uzodike, and Mr. Tunde Oni,
I was well inculcated into the advocacy of having a last will and
testament. We had a lot of interesting
cases of family wars started as a result of intestacy. Interestingly, a lot of
notable intestate cases involved lawyers. Like chain-smoking doctors, the world
is full of intestate lawyers
While
having a will doesn’t necessarily make all your problems disappear, it helps a
lot. At least you know there’s a document to be followed in sharing your assets
when you’re gone. With a will, you know
that your children are provided for and your debts are paid off (You don’t want
your creditors cussing you out on the way to heaven, do you?)
So,
I asked my friend, Alfino, when he
thinks the best time to start thinking of a will is, and he responded “When you
get married.” His wife added a modifier
stating, “If you have dependents, then you should start thinking of a will.” We
then went on to talk about some utterly murky situations created by intestacy.
Essentially,
it’s about making provision for those you love and care about. For the sake of
argument, I asked what it should matter how people left behind deal with
themselves. After all, you won’t be there, so why should it matter? We
concluded that the messiness created from improper planning usually does more
harm than good.
We
talked about a wealthy Nigerian family whose dying patriarch called his
children together in one room, declared his assets and told everybody what was
due to them. He asked anybody with any dissatisfaction to speak up or forever
hold their peace. Nobody was going to be allowed to sully his name after his
death. There has been no news of family
squabbles. I like this style.
In
another family, even though the patriarch knew he was dying and he left a will,
a new mysterious will surfaced. Let’s just say lawyers have been cashing out
from that mess.
There’s
something about the idea of free money, and free property that makes people go
crazy. Even the nicest siblings start fighting over bungalow in Maryland, land
in Osapa London, town house in Mayfair. You imagine a family unit is the
closest you’ve ever seen, and then a super valuable piece of real estate comes
into contention and suddenly the claws come out.
Cultural
nuances and dynamics don’t also make planning your estate easier. The question
of what law should govern your succession process comes into play. If you have
a will, and you’re a notable traditionalist – living your life fully according
to the dictates of customs and traditions – it becomes more difficult to apply
the specifics of a will. Disgruntled parties will argue that the will, drafted
under the Act is invalid as you lived as a traditionalist and your estate
should be divided accordingly.
Some
estate battles become so bitter and protracted that one begins to wonder about
whether anything in life itself is worth fighting for. There’s nothing sadder
than having the memory of a loved one becomes coloured by the messiness of money
disputes.
It’s
never too early to start talking to a lawyer or a financial advisor about
planning your estate. And no, having a will isn’t the exclusive right of rich
people. Read up about it, make preparations and plan for your future; because…
well…
ELKAFT!
