Being the last born in the family seems to come with special privileges—at least that’s what it feels like when you're the older sibling. My younger sister, the last born, has mastered the art of dodging chores, and somehow, our mom always takes her side.
This morning, we faced the usual dilemma of deciding what to eat for breakfast. After much back-and-forth, we settled on Pap and Akara. Mom sent both of us to buy it, but when we got to the place where they sell Akara, there was none left. So, we decided to buy only Pap and sugar, planning to ask Mom if there was an alternative to the Akara when we returned.
When we got home, Mom decided that we should cook beans to eat with the Pap instead. I agreed and motioned for my sister to join me on the second trip to buy the beans. Of course, she refused, claiming she was tired. That’s when Mom stepped in, telling me to go buy the beans alone. She also handed me some money to buy rice for lunch and asked me to stop by a relative’s farm to get some scent leaves.
I suggested that since I was already running multiple errands, my sister could at least go fetch the scent leaves. But, as usual, she refused. And, to my dismay, Mom sided with her, saying she was tired and hungry.
"But Mom, I'm also hungry and tired," I protested.
"I know," she replied, "but just go and buy the stuffs."
I was frustrated, to say the least. As I made my way to the market, all I could think about was how unfair it was and how I could get back at my sister for always getting away with things. Various ideas crossed my mind—maybe I should stop talking to her, or not let her watch movies on my phone with me. But then, the perfect plan came to me.
I decided that the best way to get back at her was to buy something she loves with my own money. Since Mom had said we’d have to take our Pap with only sugar because there wasn’t any money for milk, I decided I’d buy milk for myself, just to make my sister jealous.
I was still upset with my sister when I successfully completed all the errands I was sent to do. Though I couldn't find the owner of the scent leaves, I figured we could skip it in the recipe and maybe use pumpkin leaves instead.
When I got home, Mom asked me to start cooking the beans quickly so we could all eat—especially my little sister. In my mind, I was fuming. After running all these errands, I still had to cook, particularly for her! But despite my anger, it's hard to disobey or talk back to my mother, so I got to work and started cooking the beans.
I put the beans on the stove and then went to the living room, where my mom and sister were sitting. I showed them the milk I bought for myself. My sister looked at me and asked, "It’s for me and you, right?"
Ah, I caught her! I thought. When we were being sent on errands, she didn’t say, "It’s for me and you." But now that I’ve bought milk, suddenly it’s for both of us? I wasn’t having it. “It won’t work!” I told her. “I’m not giving you a single drop!”
But then, as expected, Mom stepped in to defend her. “She’s just a little girl. Come on, just give her a little. It’s no big deal.”
“Mommy, no,” I protested. “Don’t even go there! This ‘little girl’ knows exactly what she’s doing, and you keep defending her.”
“She’s a little girl,” Mom insisted. “Don’t be silly.”
Hmm, now I’m being called silly? I thought to myself. Let me just finish cooking this food first, and we’ll see if she even gets a taste of this milk.
As I cooked, my mother’s words echoed in my head: “Don’t be silly!” Wait, was I really being silly? Why was I even so upset? My sister didn’t seem to care at all. But I resolved that no matter what, she wasn’t getting any of that milk. They could call me silly all they wanted—I didn’t care. This girl needed to be taught a lesson.
Soon, I finished cooking the beans and also made the pap. I served myself, my mom, and that tiny little 11-year-old who had caused all this trouble. I didn’t even bother serving her at the dining table; she had to go to the kitchen to get her own portion.
But I wasn’t done. I hadn’t added my milk to the pap in the kitchen—I wanted her to see it. I carried the milk to the dining table, opened the sachet, poured it into a cup, added water to make it liquid, and then, very deliberately, poured some into my pap. My mind didn’t even let me pour it all; in the end, I found myself putting the rest into her cup.
I don’t know why we all end up with a soft spot for her after everything she does. Maybe it’s because, despite her antics, she’s still our little sister. Or maybe it's because I knew deep down that my mom will blame me or call me silly again if I don't give her the milk...
I decided to lighten up and take it easy on my sister. After all, she's good in so many other ways, and we all have our flaws. That's what family is about—constantly forgiving one another. Yes, I was being a bit silly today, but maybe that's just a natural reaction to feeling wronged. In the end, I'm glad I didn't let my anger get the better of me.
