“With all due respect, Ma, you are no longer welcome here. You come into the home of your late brother, harass his wife and children, and make endless complaints about what we are not doing.
‘Oh, his grave is bushy!’
‘Oh, you don’t post your late father on social media!’
‘Oh, you don’t call your late husband’s people!’
‘Why weren’t you present at Big Daddy’s son’s wedding ceremony?’
Ma, it is always one complaint or the other. You speak ill of us at family meetings, and one way or another, we always hear of your poor representation of us. I may be the youngest son of this house, but today, I prohibit you from frequenting our doorstep. I forbid you from stepping into this house again. Drop the act. Drop the pretence.”
Kingsley stepped up to his paternal aunt, right in front of his mother, his three siblings, and his maternal uncle.
The air was thick and heavy with tension. Kingsley panted—his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers clenched into trembling fists at his sides, teeth gnashing. Even the hum of the air conditioner died suddenly, as though it, too, could not withstand the heat radiating in the room.
“Hee-hee-hee!” his paternal aunt chuckled wryly. Mocking laughter rolled from her lips as she clapped her hands in exaggerated amusement.
“My eyes have seen my ears!” she exclaimed, staggering backward and clutching the doorpost as though struck. One hand remained on the frame while the other grabbed her buttock dramatically.
“My nose has smelt my anus!”
She lurched forward and pointed at Kingsley fiercely. “You! You little boy! Ta-ta! I sucked phlegm from your nostrils. I put you to sleep right here!” She slapped her chest. “I changed your diapers—you peed on me, not once, not twice, not thrice! You vomited on me, yet I nursed you for your father when your mother went MIA!”
She shook her head, tapping her feet angrily.
The room fell silent.
“Answer me!” she screamed. “When your mother ran off with her lover and abandoned you and your siblings with your father, who played the role of your mother? Who paid your school fees when your father went bankrupt? Who cooked for you for five good years?!”
She pointed at herself, her eyes burning with fury. “Me! Meee! The same me you now warn. Are you unfortunate?”
“Maa… there was no such time my mother—” Kingsley began.
“Shut up!” she snapped. “Don’t you dare speak while I am talking. Are you mannerless? Were you not trained?”
“Ma, your statements are not correct.”
“Not another word, young man! I will not tolerate your disrespect. I am correcting you in love. Apologize to me now!”
Kingsley’s mother stared at the floor, lips trembling, head bowed. She said nothing. Neither did anyone else.
Kingsley inhaled deeply.
“You never commend us; you only condemn us. You always choose to see the wrongs. When have you ever applauded us for doing right? You don’t care about us. You never wanted my parents together, and you have always antagonized my mother. Blinded by your disdain for her, you terrorize her children too.
I will not be silenced. I may not be a legal practitioner, but I am informed, and I know my rights. I am a citizen of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Sections 36 to 39 of Chapter IV of the Constitution guarantee my right to freedom of speech, fair hearing, and freedom from discrimination. I will not allow anyone—regardless of religion, tradition, ethnicity, or age—to dehumanize me.
You will not tell me to shut up after publicly defaming my mother without proof. According to Section 373 of the Criminal Code of Nigeria, defamation attracts up to two years’ imprisonment. Any act injurious to another’s reputation attracts a one-year sentence.
I will not allow anyone to trample on my rights. I will speak. I will be heard. I will not be intimidated by age or status.
And if I am termed rude for standing against malicious gossip, so be it. I will stand—vocally or legally. If you persist in these acts, I will involve my lawyer.
Section 37 of the Constitution guarantees citizens’ privacy—including their homes and properties. This house stands on a titled deed registered solely in the names of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Okudili. Trespassing is the unlawful entry onto another’s property. Ma, your presence here is against our wishes. You may leave.”
Silence fell so heavy an ant could have been heard crawling. Triumph lingered in the air, painting a quiet smile on Kingsley’s mother’s face.
Aunt Pat snapped her fingers. “We shall see.”
She spun on her heel, her gown trailing behind like a bridal train of arrogance, defeat clinging to it as she stormed out.
All his siblings stared at Kingsley in awe.
“Whew! That was tough,” the eldest said, patting his shoulder.
“You better go and pray,” the second muttered. “When an old woman snaps her fingers and says ‘we shall see,’ she’s probably booking a flight to the nearest coven.”
“She can hug a transformer for all I care,” Kingsley replied. “No weapon fashioned against me shall prosper.”
The third-born turned to their mother. “Mummy, why are you not saying anything?”
THREE DAYS LATER
They were summoned to Big Daddy’s house. Relatives had already taken sides—with Aunty Pat.
“Your late husband’s sister complained that your son disrespected her and chased her out of her brother’s house, and you encouraged him. Is this true?” Big Daddy asked Kingsley’s mother.
Shock rippled through the room.
“Firstly, Daddy, thank you,” she said softly, kneeling. He waved her up. “You are the only one who cared enough to hear both sides. May God grant you long life and deeper wisdom.”
“Amen,” everyone chorused.
“Instead of asking, others sent me messages accusing me of raising children without character—even questioning their paternity.”
Gasps filled the room.
“Do you have proof?” Big Daddy asked.
She produced her phone, showing messages and missed calls.
“We’ll return to that,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”
She recounted Pat’s years of manipulation and humiliation.
“When it’s just us, she pretends to care. In public, she belittles me. She provokes me for reactions, then twists my words. That day, she came unannounced and accused us of stealing my late husband’s property. My son finally snapped. When you push a cat to the wall, it will turn.”
Big Daddy turned to Kingsley. “Speak.”
Kingsley stepped forward, squeezing his mother’s hand.
“Aunty Pat constantly witch-hunts us. She disrespects my mother and my late father by extension. She accused my mother falsely and told me to shut up.”
Big Daddy sighed. “In Africa, respect for elders is paramount. You were wrong to talk back—but your mother was also wrong to suffer in silence. Always report with evidence. Silence is golden.”
Then he added, “But we know Pat. She is manipulative. I will convene a family meeting and restrict all forms of bullying.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” everyone said.
ORATOR:
There'd always be rusty relationships in families. It doesn't necessarily resolve to conflict, but it surely causes disunity. For example, there's no ready made conflict between Aunty Pat and Kingsley's mother; but there has always been friction. She dislikes her!
The Genesis of such things are: pride, envy, bitterness, hatred, spite. Misunderstanding, gossip, misinformation and misrepresentation, poor communication, and distance.
It's good to promote peace with all men, but wisdom is profitable to direct. The wisest thing to do is to avoid such people. You dine with them using a very long spoon. No information about you should get to them. You deal with them wisely, and you report them to a higher authority with evidence if you can. Avoid confrontation, because they'd happily tarnish your image.
Moral
Families don’t always break through conflict—sometimes it’s slow corrosion: envy, pride, gossip, and spite. Wisdom is not to fight fire with fire but to guard your peace, deal with difficult relatives from a distance, and report, not confront.
Never take one person’s story as gospel. Always hear both sides. That is how justice, and family unity survives.
Don't start seeing people in a bad sense because "someone said." What if it's a false statement? You've just been manipulated.
A Family can be Big, can be One (united), and can be Happy.
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