How A 24-Year-Old Nurse Fulfilled A 85-Year-Old Billionaire’s Last Wish Before His Death

The Nurse and the Secret: Fulfilling a Billionaire’s Last Wish

In the bustling city of Abuja lived Stella Jadil, a young nurse at Supreme Life Hospital, a towering white building where the nation’s elite sought care. Stella was quiet, diligent, and, to some, boring. But she was driven by a core belief, instilled by her late mother: “If you care for others with clean hands and a clean heart, God will reward you.” Stella treated every patient, from the president’s cousin to the cleaner’s wife, with the same gentle respect.

One evening, as a furious rainstorm lashed the city, the emergency bell rang. A major case was rushed into the ICU: Chief Al-Haji Iddris Beare, the oil tycoon, a man whose vast wealth was overshadowed only by his family’s public feuds. Doctors worked fast, but the consensus was clear: the 85-year-old billionaire might not survive the night.

By 2:00 a.m., when the hall fell silent, only Stella remained awake, sitting quietly beside the edge of his bed. She gently cleaned the blood near his nose and watched his vitals. Matron Ago, surprised to find her still there, commented, “You don’t even flinch around people like him.”

“I just see a sick man,” Stella replied quietly.

As the clock ticked past 6:00 a.m., the man’s fingers twitched. His eyes opened slowly, fixing their gaze on Stella. After she gave him water, he whispered, “Don’t let them near me.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Anyone. Them. My people, staff, family. I don’t trust them.” He looked away, then back. “You’re the only one who sat with me. I want you to stay.”

Stella, touched by his vulnerability, agreed. From that moment, she became his sole confidante. When his estranged family—three sons, including the sharp-faced Malik, and a daughter-in-law—arrived, Alhaji Iddris refused to open his door. “If it’s not nurse Stella,” his weak voice was heard saying, “I don’t want to see anybody.”

The Confession

Over the next few days, Stella cared for him, listening to his broken whispers. He didn’t speak of business; he asked about her life. Stella told him she became a nurse because her mother died during childbirth—a death she promised to prevent for others.

“You’re not like them,” he said. “The others who smile but hide knives behind their backs.”

On the seventh day, he looked at her with tired eyes and asked, “Stella, do you believe in second chances?”

“Yes, I do,” she answered.

“Then I need yours.”

The next time his son, Malik, attempted to barge in with a lawyer, demanding to see his father, Alhaji Iddris was resolute. “I said I don’t want to see anyone.” When Malik snapped at Stella to leave, the old man raised his hand. “If she leaves, you leave too.”

Malik stormed out, muttering, “He’s dying and he’s giving his heart to a nurse.”

Alone, Alhaji Iddris confessed his lifelong regret. “I did things I’m not proud of. I let her go. I chose money. I chose power. And now I’m dying with all of it, but without her.”

“Who is she?” Stella asked.

“Mariam. The only woman I ever loved. I left her because my family said she wasn’t good enough, because I was weak.” He revealed a stunning secret: “She was carrying my child when I left. A daughter.”

He had tried to find them over the years, sending “cold men with money in their hands,” but Mariam had successfully hidden.

The Mission

“I need you to go there,” he instructed, his voice cracking. “I have a bag under this bed.”

Stella pulled out a small black leather bag. Inside was an envelope containing property documents, a silver key, and an old photograph of a young woman with a baby.

“That’s her,” he said. “That’s Mariam. That key is to the house in Cuda Village where she stayed. I need you to go there. Find her, or find my daughter. I don’t want to die without trying.”

Stella protested. “But sir, I’m a nurse. Why not send a lawyer?”….

Episode 2

Stella stood frozen beside his bed, the black leather bag clutched tightly in her trembling hands.

The weight of Alhaji Iddris’s secret pressed heavily on her heart. She wasn’t just holding an old man’s belongings—she was holding the key to a past buried beneath wealth, betrayal, and lost love. “Please, Stella,” he said weakly, his voice fading like a candle flame. “Promise me you’ll find them.” Stella swallowed hard, her eyes glistening. “I promise, sir.” He nodded slowly, closing his eyes in relief. “Then I can rest knowing someone pure will see this through.” That night, Stella couldn’t sleep.

The rain drummed against her window as she sat on her bed, staring at the photograph of the woman and child.

The woman’s smile was soft, full of life, and the baby—perhaps a year old—had the same piercing eyes as the dying man she’d just left in the ICU. How could such a powerful man lose the people he loved most? she wondered.

At dawn, Stella rose quietly, packing the photograph, key, and envelope into her handbag. She told Matron Ago she needed to take a day’s leave, claiming she had a family emergency. By noon, she was seated in a rickety bus heading toward Cuda Village—a small rural town on the outskirts of Kaduna.

The journey was long and dusty, the road dotted with hawkers and fields stretching endlessly into the horizon. As she neared the village, she replayed the old man’s words in her mind: “Not all treasures are gold. Some are people.”

When she arrived, the bus dropped her at a narrow junction where time seemed to stand still.

The air smelled of earth and palm oil, and the villagers stared curiously at her polished nurse uniform and city shoes. Stella approached an elderly man selling kola nuts under a mango tree. “Please, sir,” she began politely, “I’m looking for a woman named Mariam. She lived here long ago.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he scratched his gray beard. “Mariam…” he repeated slowly. “Ah, you mean the woman who lived in the white bungalow by the stream? It’s been empty for many years.” Her heart skipped. “Is she dead?” she asked nervously. The man sighed. “No one knows. One day she and her daughter left, and no one saw them again. Some say they moved to Lagos. Others say they passed on. Only God knows.”

Stella thanked him and followed the dusty path to the bungalow. The sight that met her sent chills through her. The white paint had peeled off, ivy grew across the walls, and the metal gate creaked as she pushed it open. She reached for the silver key, inserted it into the rusty padlock—it turned perfectly, as if it had been waiting just for her. Inside, the air was heavy and still. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, dust coated everything in sight. Yet, something about the room felt… sacred. On a wooden table lay a faded photograph of a young girl in a school uniform. The same eyes. The same resemblance. Stella’s heart tightened. She stepped closer and saw a small box tucked beneath the table, engraved with the initials “M & I.”

Her hands trembled as she opened it. Inside were a few old letters wrapped in a cloth and a golden bracelet with the name AISHA carved neatly on it. Stella gasped. That was her—Alhaji’s missing daughter. She unfolded one of the letters carefully. The ink was smudged, but the words were clear:
“Iddris, our daughter is growing fast. She has your stubbornness. I don’t need your money; I just wish you’d come see her smile. I named her Aisha. Maybe one day she’ll find you, or maybe she’ll forgive you even if I can’t.”

Tears filled Stella’s eyes. She read another letter dated just a few years ago:

> “Aisha is now a teacher in Lagos. She still asks about you. I told her her father was brave but lost his way. If only I could show her who you were before greed changed you.”

The letters ended there. Stella knew what she had to do. Aisha was alive, and she deserved to know the truth. She packed the bracelet, letters, and photo carefully and left the house. As she boarded the next bus heading back to Abuja, her phone buzzed. It was Matron Ago. “Stella, where are you? The Chief isn’t doing well. The family is here, fighting already.”

Her heart sank. She arrived at the hospital hours later, her clothes dusty and eyes swollen. The lobby was in chaos—lawyers, security men, and angry relatives shouting at one another. She pushed past them into the ICU. Chief Iddris was lying weakly, oxygen mask on his face, his eyes half-open. Stella rushed to his side. “Sir… I found her,” she whispered. “Her name is Aisha. She’s alive. She’s a teacher in Lagos.”

A faint smile crept across his wrinkled face. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, Stella.” His trembling hand found hers and squeezed weakly before falling still. The monitor beeped once, then went silent. The room froze. Malik cursed under his breath, pulling out his phone while the other family members turned away.

But Stella stood there, numb, holding the old man’s hand as a strange peace settled over the room. She wasn’t just his nurse anymore—she was the keeper of his redemption. As she wiped her tears, she felt something deep within her shift. He had died, but his last wish still lived. A promise still needed to be fulfilled.

She looked down at the envelope again. Inside, beneath the property papers, was one more sealed note addressed in shaky handwriting:

“To my daughter, Aisha. If this reaches you, know that I never stopped loving you. Forgive me. — Your father.”

Stella’s eyes widened. It wasn’t over. She had to find Aisha, deliver this note, and tell her the truth. The truth that money had hidden for decades, but love had kept alive.

Episode 3

The morning sun pierced through the half-open blinds of Supreme Life Hospital, casting golden rays across the old man’s frail face. Stella had just returned from Cuda Village, her heart heavier than ever. She’d found Mariam’s grave — untouched, simple, and surrounded by wildflowers.

But beneath the old tree beside it, she found something that changed everything: a small sealed box with a letter addressed in the shaky handwriting of the same man lying before her now — Chief Al-Haji Iddris Beare.

The moment Stella entered his room, his tired eyes lit up weakly. “You found her?” he asked, almost breathless. Stella swallowed hard, fighting back tears.

“Sir… she’s gone.” His lips trembled.

For a moment, his hand shook as he tried to lift it. She gently held it. “But I found something,” Stella said softly, taking out the envelope. “Your letter.” He froze. “You… you found the letter I buried?” She nodded. “I didn’t know it would reach her…

wanted to say I was sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “Did she… leave anything behind?” “Yes,” Stella said. “A daughter. She’s alive. She’s—” Stella hesitated. “She’s a nurse, sir. Just like me.” The old man’s eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping his lips. “A nurse?” Stella nodded. “Her name was… Stella Mariam.”

He looked confused, his eyes darting from her face to the photograph in his trembling hands.

Slowly, realization dawned. “Your… full name?” he whispered. “Stella Jadil Mariam,” she replied softly.

The old man’s heart monitor beeped rapidly. “You… you’re her child?” She nodded, tears streaming uncontrollably now. “Mother told me my father was a great man who made a terrible mistake.” Chief Iddris broke into sobs — deep, painful, regretful sobs.

“Oh God,” he whispered. “All these years… all the money, all the power… and the only thing I truly wanted was my daughter.

My Stella.” Stella collapsed to her knees beside his bed, holding his cold hand as he wept. “Why didn’t you come sooner?” he cried weakly. “I didn’t know you were looking for me,” she sobbed. “But I was meant to find you this way.

Maybe God planned it.” The old man smiled faintly, his tears glistening. “Maybe… He did.” He pulled her hand closer to his chest. “Promise me something, Stella. Don’t hate me.

Let me leave this world with your forgiveness.” Stella nodded through her tears. “I forgive you, Baba.” That word — Baba — broke him completely. He smiled with trembling lips, whispering, “Thank you… my daughter.” The heart monitor slowed, the beeps becoming faint until silence filled the room.

Stella cried softly, her forehead resting against his chest. A few minutes later, Matron Ago entered and froze at the sight.

The billionaire — the man everyone feared and respected — had finally found peace, holding the hand of the only person who ever truly cared for him. Days later, Stella was called to the lawyer’s office.

A new will had been signed the night before he passed. Everything — his mansion, his companies, his accounts — was left to “Stella Mariam Jadil Beare, the daughter who cared for me when the world turned its back.” The media went wild.

His sons raged and accused her of manipulation, but DNA tests confirmed the truth. Stella was indeed the lost daughter of the late billionaire.

Yet she didn’t stay in the city or chase fame. Instead, she returned to Cuda Village, rebuilt her mother’s old home, and turned it into a small free clinic called Mariam’s Hands of Mercy.

On the wall above her desk hung two framed photographs: one of her mother smiling with baby Stella in her arms, and the other of her father on his hospital bed, smiling faintly before he took his last breath. Whenever villagers asked why she refused to move into the mansion left for her, Stella would simply smile and say, “I already got what I needed — my father’s forgiveness.” And somewhere beyond this world, an old man finally rested in peace, having fulfilled his last wish through the daughter he never stopped loving.