IT'S GOOD TO BE GOOD

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My Husband D!ed Six Years Ago. Every Month, I Paid His Younger Brother’s School Fees… Until I Found Out the Truth

My husband, Kunle, d!ed six years ago on a quiet Sunday evening.

We had just returned from church. He complained of chest pain. Before I could even shout his name properly, he was gone.

Just like that, I became a widow at 31.

At the bur!al, his family cried. I cried more. Because I didn’t just lose a husband  I lost my best friend, my safe place.

Kunle was the first son. Their father had d!ed long ago. Their mother was already weak and sickly. And there was one person Kunle worried about the most his last-born brother, Sola, who was still in secondary school.

Before Kunle d!ed, he held my hand and said, “Please… don’t let Sola drop out of school.”

Those words became my burden.

Every term for six years, I paid Sola’s school fees. Sometimes ₦120,000. Sometimes ₦150,000. Sometimes I borrowed. Sometimes I cried after sending it.

Not because I had plenty. But because love doesn’t d!e when people d!e.

His mother would always call me and say, “God will bless you, my daughter. You didn’t forget us.”

Life wasn’t easy. I didn’t remarry. I sold small provisions. I hustled quietly. I healed slowly.

Then last year, everything changed.

I was at my shop one afternoon when a young man in a neat suit walked in.

“Good afternoon, ma.” “Good afternoon.” “Are you Mrs. Kunle Adeyemi?”

I froze.

“Yes…” “My name is Sola.”

I didn’t recognize him. The small boy I used to send school fees for was standing in front of me  tall, confident, grown.

He knelt down inside my shop.

People were staring.

“Please don’t kneel,” I said, already shaking.

Tears rolled down his face.

“Mummy… I graduated last month. First class. I’m a lawyer now.”

My legs failed me.

Then he brought out a brown envelope.

Inside was an employment letter… a cheque… and a document.

“My brother told me before he d!ed, ‘If anything happens to me, this woman is your mother.’

Everything I’m earning now, she deserves it.”

He had bought a small bungalow. In my name.

I cried like someone that just lost and found something at the same time.

All those nights I cried after sending money… All the sacrifices nobody saw… All the pain I swallowed…

God saw everything.

Today, people ask me, “Why didn’t you forget them and move on?”

I just smile.

Because sometimes, when you water someone else’s future with your tears, God uses it to heal your own life.

If this story touched you, remember: What you do in secret, God rewards openly. And sometimes, the blessing comes from the place you least expect.

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