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My Brother Used Me For Family Sacrifice / Chapter 2: No More Chains
My Brother Used Me For Family Sacrifice

My Brother Used Me For Family Sacrifice

Author: Sara Reeves


Chapter 2: No More Chains

1

"Oga, abeg take this one—na your own luck."

My brother voice low like person dey thief mango for neighbour farm. E dey look left and right, worry full him face. E dey act like e wan help me, but I know say another plan dey inside.

My brother lower him voice, dey look suspicious, eye dey dance, finger dey shake, small sweat for forehead. Na so my mind just rise, Naija pikin sabi this kind format.

I hiss, pull my hand away, dodge his small trick.

The hiss loud, sharp. My brother try laugh cover up, but I waka comot my hand, give am that 'I see you finish' look. Make e know say street pass street.

With my parents dey watch, I open my slip and give dem.

Everybody for parlour just hold breath. I open my slip slow, hand steady. I hand am over like say na exam script.

"Mummy, Daddy, I pick dropout lot. Since na so e be, I accept am."

As I talk am, my voice strong. For once, I stand my ground, make everybody hear.

My parents collect the slip, frown immediately.

Disappointment just land for their face. E be like person wey swallow bitter kola. Dem look each other, know say their plan don scatter.

I narrow my eyes, dey study their face.

I dey search their eyes for truth. For Naija house, e no easy to challenge elder, but this one, I no fit ignore. Their face tight, like say dem lose bet.

Why, when their beloved last born win the chance to go school, dem still dey look unhappy?

I dey reason deep. Abi dem no want am? Or dem just dey act?

"Your grades no good like your brother own. You sure say you no wan give am this chance?" my mum suddenly ask, her voice dey pretend care but her eyes dey panic.

She talk am with fake concern, but the panic for her face clear pass morning sun. She dey try package am, but e no work.

I look my mum in disbelief, my chest just cold.

My chest chill. So all these years, na so e be?

For my last life, my brother force the swap on me. My parents see am, but just keep quiet.

Their silence loud, like generator noise for midnight. Dem see, dem hear, but dem pretend say nothing dey happen.

After that, the whole family use moral blackmail squeeze me dry, act like say na only right.

I remember all the years dem use 'sacrifice' hold me ransom. No be today.

Now that I willingly pick dropout, dem dey try talk my brother out of am.

The shock dey my face. She dey try twist story as usual. Typical.

So from the beginning, na to send me to school just so dem fit chop my effort later?

The realization knock me like slap. All na long con.

I nearly laugh.

If no be the pain wey dey my chest, I for laugh scatter. Their sense pass anaconda.

Laugh at myself—how I no see this thing all along?

The thing pain me pass as my eye open late. How I dull reach this level?

Since I small, I know say I different from my brother.

Me and my brother, na two different world. From day one, dem show am love like first fruit for farm, but me? Na struggle.

Every Christmas, my brother go collect Christmas money and new clothes, I go just dey look am dey happy.

E go dey bounce up and down with new kaftan, toy for hand. I go dey look, dey manage my old cloth, dey smile as if e no pain me.

I beg my parents, just want one small toy car wey I don dey eye since.

That small yellow toy car—I beg tire. Sometimes I go kneel, beg with all my heart.

But their answer always be, "You don grow, you need to get sense."

Dem go talk am like say sense na by age. 'You be elder brother. No dey ask for toy.'

But that time, I still be pikin, so next year I still ask for that toy car.

Hope dey my heart, say maybe this year, dem go change. But na story again.

I even point my brother, ask why e dey get every year and me, I never get.

One day, I vex, I point my brother. 'Why Chuka get, I no get?' Na slap land me.

At the end, my papa just glare, slap me, shout say I dey selfish and no sabi save for family.

The slap heavy, like say my papa dey train for boxing. 'You too selfish! You no sabi manage. Na so you wan finish family?' Na so shout fill house.

My mama fold her arms, say, 'You no know say you be elder brother?'

Her voice cold, arms like iron. 'Elder brother no dey beg. You suppose dey give, no dey take.'

After that, I no try ask again. I no dare fight my brother for anything.

Na from that day, I swallow my voice. If wahala show, I go just waka commot or quiet.

That slap make my face swell, my classmates for school laugh at me for long.

Dem dey call me 'big head' for class. Even my own seatmate join mock me. I no fit tell anybody truth.

For my house, to beg na waste—insult just dey wait. So I begin hide my pain, bury my own dreams for corner.

...

"My brother grades better, I ready give am the chance," my brother say, face dey form serious. The acting fake ehn, I just dey vex inside.

He dey form big brother, voice dey tremble. The lie clear like bottled water. If na Nollywood, he go win best actor.

Since we small reach now, today na the only time he no struggle with me for anything, the first time e act like e dey do me big favour.

Na today be the only day e agree make I win something. All other days, na competition. So this sudden 'kindness' just make me dey suspect.

But behind that so-called kindness, na just to push me enter wahala.

For my mind, I dey laugh. Na set-up be this.

He sabi say for exam hall, na fail sure pass. Instead, he wan use family influence dump the load for my head.

And my lovely parents? Dem dey reason the same way.

Their face no even change—dem dey plan together. E be like say dem get telepathy.

If you always favour one pikin, why you go change?

If dog dey chop bone, he no go suddenly dey eat grass.

The spoiled one go remain spoiled.

Once pikin sabi say anything e do, dem go cover am, e go just continue. Na so dem dey breed wahala for house.

How I take dull like this for my last life?

My mind dey ask, 'Olamide, you try at all for last time?' Sometimes, na when you see second chance, your eye clear.

So this time, I just pat my brother’s shoulder, acting like I dey pity am but really dey mock.

My hand tap him shoulder soft, but my face dey show fake pity. Inside me, I dey laugh. 'Oga, your plan spoil.'

"No need. Fate na fate. I accept am—try your best."

I drop am loud, no shaking. If na Yoruba film, dem go clap.

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