So, why did she kill her mother?

The picture spread rapidly across the internet. The crazed look of a girl who’s lost it. Adebukola Adebusayo’s eyes were glazed over and haunting. She looked otherworldly: like killing her mother had suddenly given her peace.

“I am not the suspect; I am the murderer,” the 26-year-old Accountancy ‘graduate’ (some doubt that she finished) from the Oklahoma State University said at the Aguda Police Station.

According to her, things got to a head on August 19 when memories of being raped by her uncle mixed with news that her mother was sexually abusing their 11-year-old house help tipped her over the edge. “She also confessed to have killed my younger sister, Bunmi,” she said.

Some say Bunmi died from sickle cell complications, but Buki was convinced otherwise. “I confronted my mother: ‘Mom, are you a witch?’ My mother confessed she was one. Then we started to wrestle, but I was quick enough to reach for the sledge hammer. I hit her on the forehead and she slumped.” There should ordinarily be sympathy for the Chief Superintendent of Police who died at the hands of her own daughter, but that is where the story gets complicated.

“She was a very wicked woman,” one of her tenants, said, begging anonymity. “She treated tenants like they were in an army barrack. Anything she considered misconduct would land you in jail. Even just saying hello to a neighbour.”

Mrs. Williams, a member of the Idiagbon Money Laundering Panel, is as famous for being incorruptible as she is for cruelty. Part of her legend was a penchant for locking people up at Panti (State Criminal Investigations Department) and forgetting them there.

A former acquaintance who fell out with her corroborates this. “She has always been a woman who likes trouble – and it’s in their family. That family is truly messed up. ‘Doyin had her first child, Lola, for first husband Dr. Williams, who owns the famous Unity Hospital in Abeokuta. But she couldn’t be controlled, so she left him and went on to be with the commissioner of police in Akwa Ibom with whom she had Bunmi and Buki. They didn’t know their father. It’s been a bad foundation from the outset.”

Buki attended The Bells High School, where she had anger and authority issues and – according to a shop owner on the street – got expelled in her last year for smoking marijuana. Then she left for America at the age of 15, where she was said to be full of life and friendly – even joining the choir at her Chicago church.

Things got worse in America where she began to dabble in cocaine. According to her police statement, five years after relocation, she had two children – Remilekun and Tolani - for Mark Smith, a Red Indian she met at a local pub. During her time there she got into a fight with a neighbour, and killed her with a knife. She pleaded self defence and was deported in 2006. The Chicago Child Services gave the children up for adoption.

“When she returned, Buki minded her business,” one neighbour reports.

“However, she and her mother fought all the time - especially over money. They would threaten to kill each other, but no one ever thought it would get this bad.”

On Buki’s accusations, the neighbours are sharply divided. One, a single lady, said: “As we all know that Buki was doing drugs so you can’t really believe anything she says.” But another has no doubt Mrs. Williams was capable of all evil. “She was on drugs and she introduced her daughter to drugs,” he said.

At the Aguda Police Station, Samuel (the IPO), was visibly fed up with the case. “That story is very messy,” he said. “I don’t even want to go into it.” It was the same at Panti, where they only revealed that the case is in court and Buki is at the Kirikiri Prisons.

But, according to one of the neighbours, Buki promised to return on October 9 to kill the former naval officer uncle who raped her. Interestingly, on the day in question, the uncle left the house and, as at press time, no one knows where he is.

However, we spoke with the man, who now suffers from a partial stroke, some days before the date and he denied even the faintest relationship with Buki. “I only came to stay this year because of my illness,” he said in a frail voice.

“I have no relationship with Bunmi – we were not close. I was always off shore as a naval officer and so I hardly knew her.”

As with almost everything in this stranger-than-fiction story, it is difficult to separate what is true from what is not. But one truth stands obvious – and tragic… no one seems to care what happens to the troubled 26-year-old who killed her mother and does not regret it. Buki is on her own.