Getting It Off My Chest

Bro no. 3 called Abah when we were travelling the weekend before to inform that bro no. 1 was not doing well recently (I have four elder brothers, well, half-brothers actually. One passed away last year). Eldest bro i.e. bro no. 1 apparently has some form of cancer and last week, he was down with fever for four days. Abah then suggested visiting him and my bro-in-law offered to drive us last weekend. Akak and I looked at each other and made a face.

Bro no. 1 didn’t grow up with us; his grandparents deemed Mummy unsuitable to raising their grandchildren and wanted to look after bro no. 1 themselves. As a result, I am not and never am on good terms with bro no. 1. I barely speak to him when/if he comes to visit. For his part, he’s never treated me like a kid sister ever anyway so before you pass judgement on me, consider that fact (nor has he treated Abah like a father). In all my life, I’ve never received a single sen from him on any of his odd, rare visits to Abah, never mind if it was during Eid or otherwise. Not a single bloody sen. I suppose I am unworthy of being treated like a sister and I have long since accepted the fact but I cannot accept it if he ignores Abah. And before you ask, no, he’s never given Abah any money or brought anything over from Johore for Abah either – and we all know that Johore is well-known for its food and food products (banana chips, tapioca chips and other tea-time snacks). In other words, he is a miserable miser who never cared for Abah to even bring the old man anything whenever he comes over. The thing is, he’s good at requesting others to do something but not himself. A good example is when he asked Akak to buy a hand phone for Abah. Why not just buy it yourself, you miserable old git?

So as you can guess, neither Akak and I were at all thrilled with the idea of visiting him.

And yet we found ourselves in a car travelling down all the way to JB. I can think of a million other things I could do on a Saturday but that. He looked alright to me, he certainly didn’t look like he was suffering from cancer. I didn’t know really listen hard to what it was that afflicted him, nor do I care to find out. If you think that’s sad for two people who are related, well, you’re right. It is sad that we’re related because for all that we are to each other, we’re practically strangers. He could have been matured and wise and chose to treat me like a kid sister like his other siblings have done but he didn’t and any attempt would be simply too late now. He could have treated Mummy better but he didn’t. Heck, he still has the chance to treat Abah better but he doesn’t. And don’t give me that crap about him not feeling affection for Abah because he didn’t grow up in our household – it wasn’t Abah’s fault, nor Mummy’s or his. It was circumstances. And besides, my paternal granddad didn’t look after Abah either and yet Abah could save and scrimp and yet feed our extended family (what with my aunt and my cousin also living with us then) and at the same time, send my paternal granddad for Hajj. So, please, spare me that bullshit.

He’s also one the main reasons why I was contemplating drawing up a will earlier. Why should he be entitled to inherit anything, should I die an early death, because I’m single (yes, because I’m single, my male relatives will stand to inherit first over my sister)?

Because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything for treating Abah the way he has all these years.

Now, you may think I’m exposing all the skeletons in my cupboard and washing my dirty linen in public and you’re probably right. But I don’t feel any compulsion to protect what he’s done (or rather what he’s not done). I’m sorry to say that I dislike him but he’s not endearing himself to me at all. And I’d rather tell that truth than pretend that things are all fine and dandy.