Some years ago, I got the devastating news that my Godmother in Africa had died. How could this be?!. I had just left her seven months ago in Africa where I had spent a month with her on her compound. The worst thing was I had not spoken to her for all those times as I was upset with her for things that I cannot/refuse to discuss here, as a matter of fact, maybe one day I will get the courage to write about what she did to me. Her son, Jide, called me about 9am American time, and 2pm for them in Nigeria, on a Sunday morning when he greeted me with the news ‘my mom is dead’. I could not believe it, flabbergasted I stuttered ‘What?’ He put his sister Bimbo on the phone. Bimbo was so shocked, she couldn’t speak. This is Africa so they buried her the same day, possibly she came from a Muslim family, because the muslims bury their dead on the same day that they die. She had died 2am between Saturday and Sunday morning and so they buried her at the entrance of her Osun shrine on Sunday evening. I felt like hell. I called him back an hour later asking him again ‘are you sure this is not a joke’ he calmly answered ‘It is not a joke, my mom is dead’. The next day I called her friend, an Igbo woman by the name of Chioma. Chioma confirmed it, even though I still believed they were lying. I could not percieve it, it was a lie, although I had seen her death six weeks prior to the news, read my post, My Traditional God Mother, look it up in the archives. This was a woman who had just had a baby, she was almost fifty years old, but Osun gives babies to whom ever she pleases, and she was an Osun woman. I had just been with her all over Lagos, all over Badagry, Victoria island, Ogun state, we had even gone to Ibadan, Osogobo; we danced on the compound to the drums praising Obatala and Osun, Kori and Other Orishas. She cooked for me everyday Igbo soup, Egosi soup, she made moin moin, a delicious bean cake and we had fun. We took pictures, went all over the place; how could she be dead?. We walked in the market and even though I am younger than her, she walked faster with more vigor than I, not that I cannot but she was alive and filled with a lot of life when I had seen her last. My God!, While I lamented in my mind about her untimely demise, I knew that God knew best; but I still doubted and even though I am not a superstitious person, (She was a traditionalist, God how come?), I knew that something was wrong and so I spoke to Chioma, the Igbo woman who was her friend. She told me that upon dying my Godmother told her that it was 2 members of her family that did witchcraft on her and was killing her. I was shocked because the people Chioma pointed out to me were on the compound with us everyday!. My godmother gave them money, gave them food and attended to them. As a matter of fact it was three of them who she accused, the third being her husband who she accused also. O Ma Se O!!, (what a pity). I asked Jide the son if it was wicthcraft and he was adamant that it was not, he said it wouldn’t take her. But he had to deny it to me, Africans do not reveal their business, that easily, no matter who you are. And I was like family!.
It is not uncommon for your family members to do evil against you. As a matter of fact, Yoruba says when there is problems the first person you should look into as the trouble maker is the family member. Oh yes, there are bad ancestors; good one and bad ones. Often times when children are molested it is the family member who has done it. The enemy is the closest one beside you because he comes as a friend. If I know you are my enemy you will not sit beside me but if I know you as a friend you can sleep on my bed, cook for me even stay in my house. This is where you lay, as a snake waiting to chop my head, or to devastate me. I’ve seen it happen time and time and time again. It was the mythical Cane who killed the mythical Able. It was Joseph’s brothers who sold him into slavery. Casey Anthony was just acquitted for killing her child, which the whole nation believes that she did. For whatever reason, since the beginning of time, family members, blood relations have fought against each other and lot of them using witchcraft to achieve what they want. The Menendez brothers were convicted of killing their mother and father and recently in the news a 17 year old boy has been accused of killing his parents and having a party while the dead bodies lay in the house. My own family has done me many wrongs and even my own mother separated me and my sisters from each other because she did not want us to have a close relationship, all this stemed from an older sister filling my mothers head with lies about me, because of jealously, that bitch!., she knew my mother cared little for me and she palyed on it.
Sometimes they will try to use and abuse you and if they feel that you will not subject yourself to their dominance this is where they attack, because they can, especially if you are in a position where you need them. My own son, has disrespected me, for his girlfriend, I have nothing to hide, Obara Meji is an Open book!, and because they are the closest ones to you, it hurts like hell. My disgusting nephews, born into my own hands, has called me a bitch, and their mother laughed when she heard. Read my post, SCHADENFREUDE!!.
When my mother migrated to America along with us the children, I was very young. We came to live with our aunt who did the filing for us to come to America. Before we left Jamaica we had a good life. My mother had a good job and she was very progressive; we never suffered or lacked for anything. We had a wonderful roof over our heads, food in abundance, clothes; so much so that we gave away a lot when it was time for us to leave. A month after we came, my Aunt told all of us to get out. If it wasn’t for our neighbor 2 doors away, who she had cautioned us not to speak to because they were too black and ugly, we would have been homeless. Thank God we did not listen to her. Thank God we did not have her prejudices against our own. I could go on and on about the wickedness in families and the devastation that this has caused.
One of my clients told me of the molestation by her grandfather, this old gnarly, peice of crap,screwing a six year old, this happens so often. Another one told me also of the molestation by her step grandfather and when she made up her mind to tell her female cousin, the cousin took her to the bathroom and did lesbian tribing with her, the cousin was in her twenties, she was eight!, this was Jamaica, a female cousin! And when she finally got the courage to tell her, Aunt, her Grandmother, whose husband it was that was screwing the child every night because the family had migrated to America and had left the children in his care, cussed her telling her ‘because of you I had to divorce my husband. I hate you’.
Recently I had a woman who came to me for divination and she told me that growing up she was the one that her mother hated because of her skin color being very dark. This is common in Jamaica (when Jamaican people goh fi goh prejudice, dem prejudice more dan white people). She told me that she came to Kingston to seek her way, at the age of 16, due to ill treatment at the hands of the mother and became a maid. The married man for whom she became a maid to his family, (his wife and children), also turned her into his lover, she felt she had no choice, it was a case of survival. This was from the time of 16 years old, and because she had no other alternative she had to contend with her situation until she was 25. The day came when her mother got so sick she was dying but it was the daughter who she hated that paid all the medical bills, and then some, bought all the medication and paid for the surgeries. The woman told me that the day before her mother died when she went to the hospital to pick her up,the University of the West Indies, and on her way home with the mother, she said the mother went down in the middle of the street on her knees, she begged her mother to get up but she said she had to do this!. The mother held on to her, the daughter’s hands and prayed for her calling out to God to forgive her the mother, for the way she had treated her child. The woman told me that her mother said these words ‘God, this is the stone that the builder refused; it now has become the head corner stone. I despised my own child because of her complexion, because she looks like her father, I ignored her and put her in the street before time and now that I am old, gray and sickly, all who are light-skinned have turned their backs on me. God please bless her’. The woman cried when she told me that her mother had blessed her one day before she left the earth; and that blessing has remained with her to this day. All that the mother did to her while she was growing up, she has forgiven and forgotten. I too have forgiven my mother, regardless of not loving me she taught me valuable lessons that I have taught my own children…Read Egbe White.
For me to continue this post about wicked family members would take forever. I know there are those of you reading this blog who have also suffered at the hands of family members who have used, betrayed, molested and hurt you in ways that you cannot begin to understand. Read the post from the archives–Family Disconnection– Let us have an interesting discussion. I have told you all on countless occasions my own story, please share yours with me; and for those who are reading, please do not be shy or afraid to tell your stories. Come mek wi reason!
Ọ̀nì ní ojú máa ńti òun láti gé nǹkan jẹ, tóun bá sì ti gée jẹ, ojú máa ńti òun láti fi sílẹ̀.Ọ̀nì ní ojú máa ńti òun láti gé nǹkan jẹ, tóun bá sì ti gée jẹ, ojú máa ńti òun láti fi sílẹ̀. /
The crocodile says it is always shy to bite, but once it has bitten, it is always shy as well, to let go….Yoruba Proverb![Greed entraps; some things are better left untried]