Matar Mutum Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

“Wallahi, Allah is my witness, I have no knowledge of how this money went missing. Everyone here has seen the records. Here is the account of everything that came in and went out from all our companies from the beginning of the year until now. If all the accounts brought by our accountants are correct, how can it now be said, after another calculation, that some money is missing? I did not take anything. The only thing we can do is recalculate everything from the very beginning. It is possible that the mistake happened somewhere in the accounts,” Aminu Bechi said in extreme distress.
It had been two weeks since things became chaotic at Bechi Group of Companies. The annual audit period had arrived, and after he finished compiling everything in his position as Account General, the figures were completely different from what had been given to him in writing and from the actual cash available. A shortage of a huge amount of money was discovered — two billion, five hundred million naira, ₦2.5 billion.
After the MD and the Chairman gave him the chance to investigate, today was the day everyone who mattered in the company had gathered to hear exactly how such a terrible thing had happened.
Alhaji Zakariyyah Bechi, who kept turning in his chair with a strange, unreadable smile on his face, looked at him and said,
“Aminu, you yourself said that all the accounts presented to you were correct, and you did not accept or sign them until you had investigated everything and confirmed that it was so. Also, as far as we know, only two of you have access to our central account — you and the Chairman. Anyone who wants to deposit or withdraw money apart from the two of you must get approval from you. So how do you expect us to believe you when money goes missing and you tell us you know nothing about it? Are you saying the Chairman himself took the money, or what exactly do you mean?”
Aminu looked at the Chairman, who had not said anything since they sat down. He had his chin supported with both hands and was watching everyone who spoke. He was an elderly man, at least seventy years old or more. Even though he was seated, one look at him was enough to know that he was a huge, imposing man. The comfort of life had kept him strong even at his age.
Aminu swallowed hard because of the expression he saw on the Chairman’s face. The man was not someone who smiled often, but today’s mood was different from usual. Anyone could see that his anger was very close to the surface. And of course, it was expected. They were talking about money — money he had spent his entire life struggling to make and gather — only for some people to allegedly take from him all at once. Naturally, his mind would be troubled.
Aminu first tried to steady himself before looking at the MD, who was waiting to hear what he had to say.
“I have said all I have to say. I did not take this money, and I do not know who took it. But as I said, every sector should send us their annual records again within a short time. I will go through everything step by step. I will sit with all our bank managers. In shaa Allah, we will discover wherever the money went,” he concluded, his voice trembling, full of pleading and hope that the old man would believe him and give him that chance.
If he lost this matter, he did not know where he would turn. One of two things would surely happen. Although he was the Chairman’s son and was involved in the company’s affairs, they never brought that family relationship into business matters. He knew that either he would be forced to return the full ₦2.5 billion, which he could never gather even if he, his wife, his children, and everything he owned were sold, or if that failed, he would be thrown into prison. Even then, everything he owned would still be sold so the company could reduce its loss.
As for his job, from the very day the money mysteriously disappeared, he had already written and submitted his resignation letter, because even if he did not resign, he knew they would dismiss him.
“There is no issue of giving more time or carrying out another investigation. From the time this happened until now, if there was anything you could have done, you would have done it already. Just admit it, Aminu. You are the one who took this money. Return it, and let the matter end there without dragging it further,” Naziru Bechi said, glaring fiercely at him.
“That is also what I see. And if he remains stubborn, Honourable Chairman, I think we should leave him to the Legal Department to do their work. I know they will know how to force him to bring out the money, or hand him over to the appropriate authorities,” Alhaji Zakariyyah added, worsening the matter.
Aminu’s stomach tightened. He kept shifting his gaze between Alhaji Babangida Bechi and Yakubu Bechi, who was his assistant, the Assistant Account General. Since the argument started, Yakubu behaved as if he was not even in the room. He was busy pressing his phone, with a Bluetooth device hanging from his ear — clear proof that he was not listening to them. Because of that, Aminu fixed his eyes on Alhaji Babangida, silently pleading with him to speak. But all he saw was Babangida lowering his head without saying a word.
The room fell silent again for some time before the Chairman, Alhaji Audu Bechi, began to speak in a voice filled with the authority and pride of a man who had eaten, risen, and stood firmly above others.
“I have heard all your explanations, and I have looked at the documents that were presented to me long ago. Account General, I want you, from now until two o’clock, to submit your resignation letter by yourself. Because if we dismiss you, we will ruin your career, and it may not be easy for you to get another job elsewhere. As for the money, whoever took it has taken it for himself.”
After saying that, he closed his mouth firmly and looked straight at them.