"Blood is thicker than water." I have heard this many times, and I have come to believe it because there are things I would never accept from other people, but when my siblings do the same thing to me, I tend to overlook it and forgive them.
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Some months ago, Ayodeji came to me with a project he was working on, and he needed some funds. I wasn't a person to fund a project I wasn't sure of, but when he explained further with the words
"Big bro, I promise you, this is a nice project, and I know it will cook well, and when it pays, we will split the profit." He said over the phone with so much excitement in his voice.
I agreed to assist him; this wasn't because of the profit but because he was my blood brother. The project was to last for two months before we saw the profits. I kept tabs on the project after funding it. We had so much time to chat and talk via phone call, but I made sure not to ask anything about the project because I believe he is meant to keep me updated.
Two months passed, and I didn't ask until one day, he called me, and I was like, "Oh, I guess it is time for me to give you information on the development of the project." I picked up the phone as soon as I saw his name displayed on the screen of the phone.
"Hello, little bro, how are you doing? Hope you are fine." I said with a smile on my face because I'm always happy to talk to my siblings.
"Yes, brother. Please, I want to ask for your help. It's nothing big before you say you don't have any help left in you." He said it with a calm voice, and I smiled because he knows his big brother very well.
He continued, "I'm having a test tomorrow morning, and I don't have transport to class. My transport to class and back home will cost me 700 naira..."
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Before he could finish his plea, I cut him short. "Don't worry, I will send you 2000 naira just in case you need money for food. Also, what about the project we are both expecting?.
I threw the question at him so I don't act ignorant of the deal we both had.
"Oh, they have paid, but the money is in a staked account; it will take a month because the unstaking will happen. The payment was $100, and we would split it 50/50." He said, and I didn't argue with him. I bid him goodbye and transferred the money I promised.
A month had passed, but there was no news from him. Two months passed, then I decided to ask him. I picked up my phone and put a call to him.
"Ayo, what's going on with the funds?" It's already two months," I said to him on the phone.
"Brother, please don't be angry. I used the money to get a new phone because my previous phone was giving me lots of issues; that's why I got a new phone."
I paused for a second. The silence must have been loud on his end, because he added quickly, "I didn’t want to tell you at first because I didn’t know how you’d react."
That was when something in me snapped. Not because of the money, trust me, it was never about the money, but because of the way he went about it. I had trusted him. Not just with cash, but with the confidence that he would be honest with me, and he chose to hide the truth until I asked.
“Why didn’t you just tell me before buying the phone?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking, not with anger, but with disappointment.
He stammered, “I didn’t want you to get angry…”
I cut him short.
“Have I ever gotten angry with you over something like this before? That’s a weak excuse, and you know it,” I said, this time not hiding my disappointment. “If you had just said something earlier, I might have even added some extra to help you get a better phone. But no, you decided to play on my intelligence.”
He went quiet. I could tell he wanted to say something, maybe to explain further or apologize. But I was done. For now, at least.
The call ended shortly after, and since that day, he hasn’t called or messaged me.
It hurts me, not because I feel used, but because I feel like I’ve lost a small piece of the bond we used to share. I’ve always believed that honesty should be easier with family. We grew up together, shared food, space, everything. And yet, when it mattered most, he chose silence over sincerity.
Anyway, I await my prodigal brother.
I wait, not because I enjoy the silence, but because I believe in the strength of our blood. Because I know we all make mistakes. I am sure he is doing his best to get the money back before he apologizes. If he does send the money, I will send it back to him because I know it must have been hard for him to get it.
And when that day comes, when he picks up the phone, or sends a message, or shows up at my door, I’ll be there. Not because I wasn’t hurt, but because I’ve healed.
Blood truly is thicker than water. I wouldn't have taken this from someone else, but since he is a piece of me, I would forgive him over and over again.
The End
Thanks for reading; my name is Fashtioluwa.
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