I met my friend yesterday. I was happy to see her but left disappointed.
Sarah and I had planned to meet over the weekend but decided to meet yesterday instead since we were both free.
We talked about many things until she opened up about what was bothering her.
“I told you about my cousin, the one my mother took through university. Do you remember her?” she asked.
“Yes. The one you refer to as your last born. I remember her well. You’ve posted her severally.”
She paused for a few seconds.
“Mmh. You won’t even guess what she did. That lady had the nerve to invite everyone to her graduation party except us,” she said sadly.
I was perplexed.
“What! Why?” I asked, still puzzled.
“Mmh. She gave very many silly excuses. The most outrageous one was claiming that she knew we all low-key disliked her.”
I was confused. I knew Sarah loved her cousin.
“How? Why would you dislike her?”
She went quiet, sipped her tea, and continued.
“Her mother and my mum were not the best of friends. When her mum passed away during her first year, my mum put the grudge aside and stepped in. They were just two daughters, so it was the right thing to do. Now she’s done with college and wants to continue carrying her mother’s grudge. Her mum wasn’t liked by many because she was mouthy and proud. She also had a high sense of entitlement, and when she passed, people said her daughter would take after her. They were right.”
She handed me her phone and told me to read the chats. I hadn’t been that shocked in a long time. The messages were heartbreaking.
Cousin told Sarah that it was her graduation party, and she alone would decide who to invite. She clearly stated that her mother’s enemies were her enemies. When asked why she didn’t reject the financial help from her mother’s so-called enemies, she replied that she never asked anyone to educate her and would refund every coin. She even made petty comparisons to prove that Sarah’s family disliked her just as they had disliked her mum.
When I finished reading, I handed back the phone. I was beyond shocked.
“Irene, my mother sacrificed a lot for this girl. She has been living in a bedsitter costing 8K, paid for by my mum for three years. She had everything to make her comfortable — including a TV — all from my mum. My mother has fed her and given her pocket money every month for three years. By enough, I mean 15–20K depending on her pockets, and that’s excluding rent.”
“Waah. I don’t know what to say. This lady is so ungrateful. Her mum’s copy.”
“Her mother always claimed my mum is a witch who steals people’s luck. She claimed my mother stole her luck too. She told one of our cousins that’s the main reason she couldn’t invite us. After all my mum did! She says she doesn’t want to close her doors of luck by celebrating in the presence of witches. I don’t even know what to say.” She said this while fighting tears.
I couldn’t utter a word. This was too heavy.
“The laptop she’s using was from my elder brother. How can someone gift you a laptop if they dislike you? How can my mother dislike her when she educated and provided everything for her? I don’t mind her not inviting me, but why invite people who never spent a dime on her and leave out my mother and brother and then call us witches?” Her voice was now breaking with pain.
I was stunned. I had nothing to say.
“My uncle warned my mother. He said my cousin has her mother’s habits. We didn’t think it would show this soon. Why? How can she say such cruel things about my mum? How many relatives pay rent and furnish a house for a student?” A tear rolled down her left cheek. “My mother steals luck…”
We sat in silence for several minutes. I paid the bill and stared at her, too shocked to speak.
“I don’t want to cry in public. I know my mum is not a witch, and God knows we all love her. May He be the judge…”
We left heartbroken. I could only offer a silent prayer for her mother that she heals from words so cruel and undeserved.