We are all born the same but through what we experience we gain different experiences that lead us to function in different ways and that make our judgmental society.
I grew up in an underprivileged township in south west of Gauteng where I attended multiracial school. I had cousins who lived in rural areas and that made them see me as very privileged. I understood the difference in classes of society at a young age. My mother was a hardworking woman in a firm and she struggled to keep my older brother and I fed.
My older brother would be spoon-fed everything and I on the other hand had to work hard to get what my brother had. He eventually dropped out of school and later found a job. He started abusing alcohol and that caused constant arguments in our house. A few months later he quit his job and stopped drinking. He started a car wash that my mother had funded.
I was still in school. My mother always said I should work hard to get the latest gadget or clothing so I can look cool at school. I usually felt like I was oppressed by my own mother and brother since we grew up without a father.
My brother started doing drugs. I busted him and told my mother but she didn’t believe me at first. When she finally was sure that he was doing drugs, she ended up in hospital. She came back and things started going missing in the house. That’s how we lost our mother. I was later sent to live with my aunt but my brother stayed behind to take care of our mother’s house.
I later finished my studies then went to a college to do an IT course without any word from my brother. I heard through the grapevine that he sold all the furniture and the family agreed to send my mother’s cousin to live at her house. My brother and uncle didn’t agree to live together and so my brother became an outcast that lived on the streets.
I finished schooling and went to my mother’s place and found that my uncle’s wife was a witch-doctor which gave me fear to confront them that they can move out now since I am now able to take care of my mother’s house. During that time I found a job and bought a house on the east side of Gauteng and was living and I tried conversing with my family members to help me get my mother’s house back but they weren’t willing to help.
I ended up finding closure and dealt with my problems. My brother went to rehab and became clean. He fought for the house and eventually we won. I now live in my house and my older brother now owns a car wash still and lives at our mother’s house.
The moral of the story is that whatever I experienced as a child made me a better person. I wouldn’t understand what my mother did for me enabled me to grow to be the man I am and I am enjoying the fruits of my labour.
Tell us: What did you learn from this story?