The compound was unusually quiet that night.
Even the crickets seemed to sing more softly, as though they respected the deep thoughts that filled the old man's mind.
Dadman sat alone on the veranda.
The wooden chair creaked gently each time he shifted his weight.
In his hands rested a small worn notebook — a relic from many years ago.
Its pages were yellowed with age.
Some of the ink had faded.
But the memories inside it remained clear.
He opened the first page slowly.
Numbers.
Business notes.
Investment plans.
Records of transactions that once represented the prosperity of his family.
There had been a time when these pages meant everything.
A time when the name of his family carried influence across the city.
Back then, people greeted him with admiration.
Doors opened easily.
Opportunities appeared without struggle.
But fortune had a strange way of changing direction.
Some losses had come from betrayal.
Some from poor decisions.
Some simply from the unpredictable storms of life.
And slowly, one by one, the numbers in that notebook had turned meaningless.
Dadman sighed quietly. He closed the notebook and leaned back in the chair.
From where he sat he could see the neem tree standing proudly in the center of the compound.
That tree had been planted when Precious was only five years old.
He remembered the day clearly.
She had insisted on helping dig the hole with a tiny plastic shovel.
Kenty, much younger then, had spent most of the time throwing soil everywhere and laughing.
Those memories warmed his heart.
Despite all the financial losses his family had endured…
Those moments had always remained priceless.
Inside the house he heard the faint sound of Kenty laughing again.
That girl had always carried the energy of a storm.
Unpredictable.
Restless.
But beneath that wild spirit lived a good heart.
He worried about her sometimes.
Especially after the situation with Sonko.
The young man had the kind of ambition that could easily become dangerous.
Still, Dadman believed something important about life.
Even mistakes could become teachers.
He lifted his eyes toward the stars.
The sky stretched endlessly above the compound.
For a moment he imagined the future.
Precious in a wedding dress.
David standing proudly beside her.
The courtyard filled with relatives, music, and celebration.
A family beginning a new chapter.
His heart felt both proud and heavy at the same time.
Letting a daughter go was never easy.
But it was part of life's design.
Just then the gate creaked softly.
Dadman turned his head.
David stepped into the compound quietly.
The young man looked surprised to see him still awake.
"Good evening, sir," David said respectfully.
Dadman nodded.
"You're late tonight." "I was finishing some work."
David approached slowly.
There was something thoughtful about his expression.
"May I sit?" he asked.
Dadman gestured to the chair beside him.
For a moment they both watched the silent courtyard.
Then David spoke.
"Sir… can I ask you something?"
Dadman raised an eyebrow.
"Go ahead."
"How did you stay strong when your family lost everything?"
The question lingered in the air.
Dadman smiled faintly.
"Who told you I stayed strong?"
David looked surprised.
Dadman chuckled softly.
"My son… there were many nights when I felt like I had failed completely."
He tapped the old notebook resting on his lap.
"I believed my value as a man depended on numbers written in books like this."
David listened carefully.
"But time taught me something," Dadman continued.
"What?"
"That wealth is temporary."
"But character is permanent."
He looked directly at David.
"You want to build a future with my daughter."
"Yes, sir."
"Then remember this lesson."
David nodded.
"No matter how successful you become… never forget the people who walk beside you during the difficult years."
The wind rustled gently through the neem tree.
A calm peace settled over the compound.
David stood up slowly.
"Thank you, sir."
Dadman nodded again.
As the young man walked toward the house, Dadman whispered something quietly to the night sky.
A prayer.
Not for money.
Not for success.
But for something far more valuable.
He prayed that the next generation would build something stronger than fortune.
Something that could never be stolen by time or circumstance.
A legacy of love.
A legacy of family.
A legacy worthy of the dream that had begun under that very neem tree.
The dream of a Fortune Dreamer.