https://pixabay.com/illustrations/quantum-physics-wave-particles-4550602/
Conflict with Uncle Mike
My grandmother gave birth to my father and uncle Mike. Although my father is the firstborn, uncle Mike, who is selfish and domineering, refuses to show him the respect that customs dictate. Despite his impudent manners and lifestyle, my father loved his brother. Uncle Mike was a drunkard, fond of both gin and palm wine. Whenever he mixed the two and drank, his problems multiplied. His next words would be, "Where is that man who calls himself my elder brother and his foolish wife?" Whenever my uncle started misbehaving and trying to pick a fight with my father, our grandmother would start crying and plead with my dad to ignore him. "Udo, your younger brother's actions are not ordinary. Remember, he wasn't always like this. Only God knows what went wrong," my grandmother said. "Mother, this is getting worse every day, and I'm confused," my father replied.
One day, my mother advised my father, "Let's leave the village and move to the city or your father's house. It would be better for us to live in a one-room apartment in the city and have peace than endure the hell Mike is turning this house into." My father responded, "He will change one day," and my mother replied, "My fear is that I don't want to be a widow yet. I need you to help me raise these seven kids." "Daddy, God forbid that. My brother can't kill me, especially not while Mama is alive." My parents' quest for a male child led them to have seven children within 11 years of marriage. I am the first child, and I have six siblings (five sisters and a brother). My brother, the seventh child, is called Iheanacho, and he was loved by everyone. Sometimes, I wished I were Iheanacho because I noticed that he was valued more just because he was a boy. From his birth, naming ceremony, to dedication, the whole family was overwhelmed with joy, including me. When I turned ten, I went to my grandmother and asked, "Why is Iheanacho loved more than the girls?" She replied, "Because he is ours, and your people are for other people." Angry, I ran to my mother and asked her to show me who my real father was. My impatient mother slapped me and said, "I hope your uncle hasn't given you the drink of madness." I became confused and ran to the girls' room. Mary, my immediate younger sister who loved reading, was in our room, reading. As she saw my angry mood, she said to me, "Not again. Why should uncle Mike be treating us this way? That's why I always stay in our room all the time because I'm tired of him chasing us into the room, claiming the compound and house are his." While Mary was talking, we overheard our mother utter, "God, why me and why now?" Then Mary said, "Oh God, what have we done to Uncle Mike?" As she opened the door, behold, our mum was unconscious. Mary rushed to our grandmother's apartment to inform her of our mother's condition, and as she was coming, my other siblings followed suit. Before their arrival, I was shouting, "Mother, please wake up," trying to revive her, but she seemed far away.
When my grandmother saw my mother, she added salt to a bucket of water and poured it on her. Immediately, my mother regained consciousness and whispered, "Where is my husband?" My grandmother replied, "Udo will be back in the evening. Please go to the health center and get yourself checked, as you appear sick." "Okay, Mama," she said. Just as my grandmother was about to leave, my mother's phone rang again. She picked up, and the voice on the other end said, "Madam, are you Udo's wife? You are needed at Martin's hospital now." My grandmother asked, "Is everything alright, my daughter?" My mother replied, "Yes, ma, I'm just feeling dizzy." My grandmother was relieved and said, "Please stop doing hard work. Maybe you are expecting another child. My mother pretended everything was fine because she didn't want to lose mother and son same days. She kept uttering, "Why me? Why now? My fears have taken hold of me." She called her friend, and when she arrived, they left the house. Mary prayed, "God, please protect our mother for us." Then Faith, my younger sister, said, "I don't like this house anymore, and I'm not enjoying this holiday. This house brings trouble. Whenever Aunt Angela visits, I will pack my things and go with her." I told Faith, "This house is okay; it's just Uncle Mike's problem." However, deep inside, I still thought about my grandmother's words, "Iheanacho is ours, but your girls are for other people." I said to myself, "Since Mum couldn't explain, Dad will when he comes back."
We were kept in suspense, and Uncle Mike hadn't been disturbed for two days. I thought he was in trouble, not knowing that Dad had left without saying goodbye. After two hours, our grandmother came to us and asked if Mum was back. Just as she was talking, Uncle Mike stumbled in, drunk and crying. The first thing he said was, "Mama, we are finished. My brother, your son, died in a car accident on his way to work this morning. Where is his foolish wife? I hope she's aware." "Mama" said, "Foolish drunk, get out of sight." We didn't believe him, as we thought it was an alcohol-induced joke of the year.
A few minutes later, my mother returned with her friend. As they walked toward us, my mother seemed lifeless. We ran to her, greeting her, but there was no response. Thirty minutes after their arrival, many people started coming to our house to mourn, as per custom. It dawned on me that my father was truly gone, and we wept. Mary said, "I knew it. This house is full of trouble." Some elders went to comfort my grandmother, but she couldn't be comforted. The whole situation felt like a drama, and five days after my father's death, my grandmother passed away. The worst part was that my dad and grandma were buried on the same day to save costs. Immediately after the burial, we had no choice but to move to my maternal home because we couldn't cope with Uncle Mike's issues. As we were leaving, my mother wept, saying, "Oh, how I wished your dad were alive, and we were leaving together." Then Mary said, "Mum, it's okay. God will not forsake us." When we arrived at our maternal home, we received a warm welcome.
Mary, being intelligent, was awarded a scholarship for her university education. Our mother worked hard to ensure the rest of us had a better life, with the assistance of Aunt Angela.
Time flew by, and Mary and I both graduated from the university simultaneously. Mary graduated with distinction and immediately secured a job at an oil company due to her specialization in petrochemical engineering. Meanwhile, I pursued a degree in Management. Our mother was overjoyed and proud of both of us.
During my third year at the university, I met Pat, the love of my life. Within six months of dating, we became engaged. However, I insisted that we should wait until after graduation to get married. A year later, we arranged a traditional wedding, which had to take place in my father's compound according to custom. Uncle Mike stood in as my father. As we drove to my father's compound, tears streamed down my mother's face as she remembered our father, grandmother, and all the challenges she faced in her husband's house. She murmured, "Life can be so unjust to good people at times."