Does that title sound weird?
A bit of background...
Besides myself, I have two younger brothers and a younger sister. Our upbringing was interesting but, at this point, not interesting enough to talk about yet. Everything changed when my brother was taken, by my parents, to Nigeria. (My younger self would have said, 'he was shipped'.) It had changed again when my brother came back to the UK. We went from just a 'normal' family to 'that family'.
Long story short, my brother began to engage in activities which, three years later, lead him to prison. Before he went in, he didn't live with us. He couldn't. The way many African households are set up, "there can't be two masters under one roof". Our inability to accept what he was doing created a rift in our relationship with him. His loyalty to whoever and whatever he was doing outside of our home, would not allow him to: come home at a reasonable time, attend family gatherings or even do house chores. He missed Christmas'. His loyalty to the streets meant we had to get use to hearing he had been stabbed, arrested or wanted by the police. For my mum, jail provided her with a peace of mind. For her, it was better than her burying her son.
For me, it was anxiety either way!
When I was in sixth form, I studied Sociology. The crime and deviance module explained how poverty fosters crime and, that the two are often not mutually exclusive. Although I had learned this before my brother went to jail, merely knowing this gave me anxiety because: a) I knew this applied to my family's situation. Although we are comfortable we are not rich. B) we, as a family now, fit into 'a box' that the white man created. So I had an underlying hatred for my brother and my family.
Although I questioned why my brother would put our family in this social bracket, Sociology allowed me to humanise his behaviour, through the idea of marginalisation. Coming from Nigeria to London, at a time where everyone school child has formed their friendship group, he would have found it hard to fit in or feel as though he belonged. He found that sense of belonging in the wrong crowd, unfortunately.
So, the confessional part of this title relates to the fact that no one knew. Well, my nuclear family, my boyfriend and 2/3 friends knew before this post. And from the 41 views I got from the last post (YAY), whoever is reading this now knows.
Whilst my brother was away, I learned that I was/am a selfish person. He was the one in jail, without the ability to do whatever he wanted to do yet, I felt like a victim. I just felt like a victim of the system and, was upset about how it could affect my career prospects. I was afraid of how my family - how I would be perceived. I was anxious about my friends avoiding certain topics because of me.
This is the African in me. My mum would always tell us not to speak to outsiders about our family issues so, that mentality has been engraved into my thinking.
To change, or at least to inspire a change in myself, I thought I'd confess. Be transparent about things. I am not better than anyone but, I am better than to present myself as though I am.
Sidetone... my brother is out. He's good. He has plans to walk a straighter, more transparent road. Our relationship with him is good. We're learning to love on him.
This post inspired by a woman I met on a national express coach. As quiet as i can be around people i do not know, she drew me into conversation. She mainly spoke about her life and her children. I just remembered how getting things off your chest, and being transparent with your experiences can help your mental state.
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