What I felt then and what I feel now are like two worlds at opposite ends of the galaxy. My brother, though not the only family I had, meant the world to me. He was everything a little brother wanted in a big brother. We did everything together, from stealing chicken out of the pot while mom wasn’t completely done with the cooking, to going to the arcades together and wasting all our money and looking at each other with baffled faces. One of my best memories with him is mentioned in one of my journal entries. A clear Saturday afternoon it was-funny how I remember the exact day, OH MY GOD! Is what I remember running out to from getting a glass of water to drink. My brother, being how we were, tried doing something that I did, except I did it successfully, and he wasn’t as fortunate. He had dismounted the gate wrongly, took a wrong flip, and landed on his jaw, breaking it and chipping a tooth. I was never as scared in my young life. The sight of his blood on the floor stuck fear into my heart and I thought then, that my brother best friend was going to be taken from me forever. The worst three days of my life followed- I didn’t have bro with me-he was bandaged all over his head in the hospital from what I was told. I never knew such grief existed. Getting him back was the best thing that happened to me in my short life for I did not know loosing someone, even for a short period of time had such grief attached to it. I got my brother back and the world continued its routine spinning in circles again. Everything got better as time went on until boarding school decided to steal my beloved brother from me. His initial departure was the killer. I really believe I then, went into a young phase of depression for I didn’t know how to continue life without my brother there with me. I almost have tears running down my cheeks now thinking of what it felt like to say bye to him when he was dropped off at school. If I remember precisely, that would be the official beginning of the end of such a great relationship.
The next time I would see my brother would be during Christmas break. Upon seeing him, a bizarre vibe was felt. He wasn’t as friendly, and he definitely didn’t seem as happy to see me while I on the other hand was ecstatic and full of joy. He didn’t want to hang out with me, but instead chose to go out with other people, whom then to me, were assholes for making my brother ditch me. Little did I know, he chose to hang out with his friends than his favorite brother. This was the beginning point of developing this “thing” which till this day I still cant name, or get over. He began hurting me in a way that Tylenol, aspirin, or the best medication in the world couldn’t heal- emotionally. Being that we’re only a year and a few months apart, my time had come to go join him in boarding school. I went in with high hopes that we would continue where we left off at home in Victoria Island by the gate and the swings. Boy o’ boy was I wrong. A nasty rude awakening waited upon me. The first time I remember feeling such hurt from my brother was in the midst of his new founded friends. Ill acknowledge that I wasn’t looking my finest, I actually remember looking horrible but I was feeling emotionally neglected, and I needed my brother to condone me. In the midst of all his friends and a couple surrounding bystanders, he told me “leave me alone, go find your own friends, I don’t have time for you.” I couldn’t figure out if he embarrassed me the way he did on purpose to show his friends who I hated at that moment that he was cool, if he was truly ashamed of me, or if he sincerely wanted me to find my own friends. Being who I was, I took the worst of all three and felt he was ashamed to call me his brother. This was the pattern for my three years at school. Another occasion that ate at me was on visiting day, which is when parents and other relatives are allowed to come see their children, or nieces and nephews. Mommy brought cooked food, and oh man, was I happy to have some home cooking. She specified that it be shared evenly between the both of us, but that’s exactly what was not done. When we returned to the hostel, what seemed to me like a bunch of hungry vultures surrounded him. I had hoped he would give me my share and did what he pleased with his, instead he ate some of it and told me the rest of the food was “massacred”, a term that was used to describe people violently grabbing at your food. I went hungry and cried myself to sleep that night. Don’t get me wrong, he tried to apologize, but I would hear nothing of it for hunger, loneliness, and hurt beat me down like I stole something. As time went on my love and care for my brother passed away like human beings do. I wouldn’t say that I began to hate him- more so began to be uncaring towards him. I eventually found myself at school, made my own friends, and slowly but surely distanced myself from him. That was the end of our relationship.
After three years in boarding school, my piece of shit father asked us to come over to the United States, that we would love it here. Being respectively 12 and 13years of age, what could we really say but go along with his wish. After arriving here in the states, the pattern continued, I did not care to do anything with my brother. From parties to just plain movies, I wanted nothing to do with him, but please keep in mind, I did not, and do not despise or hate him, I just have/had an uncaring attitude towards him. As time progressed, he noticed that he liked to rap, and decided to see how far he can take Nigerian rap, while I on the other hand noticed that I like to draw. The group he became a part of-D.N.B, persistently asked me to draw them a logo, or something of that nature, but the animosity that he had forced upon me all the years was starting to play its role. I neglected drawing the logo for them, but it was an unconscious act, for I wanted to, but I didn’t have the will to. His friends, with time began asking me, “deej, why don’t you support your brother?”, or “how come I never see you at his performances?” etc. We had drifted so far apart that even as far as his shows, I didn’t catch wind of directly from him, but from third parties such as mutual friends, and I could have gotten the information if I really wanted to, but something just wasn’t there anymore for him. This was the story from the age of 13 till now. In all of this, I never knew I would feel guilty for the way I treated him for he was the reason I became this cold
About a year ago, our house got broken into, and we evidently decided to be extra cautious as far as leaving the spare key uncaringly in the front porch. Well, it happened to be my luck that on the day that I left the house last, I left the front door open. My brother called me, in response to my sister calling him to find out if he had left the house last. I don’t recall ever being so talked down at, or disrespected so much by one person in a matter of ten minutes or so. He insulted and cursed me out- “how can you be so f**kin foolish to leave the door open, what the f**k where you thinking,” and so on and so forth. In between these insults, I might add that I was getting hung up on, which pushed me over the edge. I lost it. When he arrived home from work, I was ready to behead him with my bare hands, but in all this rage, I didn’t have the heart to throw the first punch due to my upbringing. “whoa bro, what’s wrong with you, why are you so mad?” Im sick and f**king tired of your bullshit, I hate you, I have no type of respect for you- was my response to him. At that particular moment, I saw fear in my brothers eyes like no other. That’s when it finally dawned upon him. “bro, why are you so angry?, it cant be because of how I spoke to you, especially over just the door being left open, you know that’s how I talk when im frustrated so why are you so angry with me?” this is when tears began to fall from his eyes as he cried while he spoke; “I knew there was something wrong all these years, just the way you treat me, and how you talk to me, I knew I felt some type of hate vibe from you, and I just want to say that whatever I did, im sorry bro, please don’t be mad at me, I love you so much bro, but I knew there was a cold shoulder from you, please tell me what I did, and what I can do to correct it.” I responded in tears to from seeing my brother sincerely genuine with his words by saying “all those years that you neglected me bro, left me to rot in school with no older brother to look out for me as I planned to have done. You abandoned me bro. I had to reconstruct my life as if I never had you, and it wasn’t because I wanted to do that, but because you made me.” Keep in mind, as were both talking, were crying hysterically as pent up emotions of ten years just spilt all over the floor. He asked, “bro what can I do to change, or so that you can forgive me”, “nothing “ I responded for there was really nothing he could have done.
Grapes, once turned into raisins never turn back to grapes again. It’s irreversible process. Im not saying that me and my brother will never be close again, but I can honestly say that its virtually impossible for me to love and care for him like I once did, and it pains me to speak that way of my brother but what is done, is done. As he walked into my room to use my hairbrush or something while I wrote this, I could not let him see this for I felt it would hurt him and possibly reopen an unhealed wound. My brother, my best friend- I thought not even being on separate planets could separate us but I was wrong. Some things can never be undone, while some things can. They say where there is a will, there is a way- I still till this day haven’t seen a raisin turned back into a grape. I hope me and my brother share a different fate.
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