Whatever the case - Our parent do not deserve to suffer in their old age

If I was grateful for anything, it was for the kind of family I had. Not perfect, yes, but each of us held a piece that could complete the other's heart. And we did it all the time.

Source
I watched as Baba Pami, the old man who supplied palm wine to a local joint in my estate, struggled to get atop his rickety bicycle. Since I couldn't carry him, I just watched pitifully as he struggled but eventually helped himself on and began riding slowly away. I wondered where his children were, surely he had one or two children or grandchildren who could assist him or pay someone to assist him in supplying his palm wine every morning. Especially since he did his rounds really early.

It was why I loved my family. My mom wasn't even half as old yet we made sure my younger brother lived with her even when he preferred to live with my older brother. We were even planning to get her a help when he finally got admission into the higher institution.

It was what we felt was good for her since her legs were becoming feeble and her eyes dim.

“I can still do things myself so if he doesn't want to stay with me, let him go,” my mom said in one of our online meetings.

“Flourish, why don't you want to live with mummy?” My older sister asked him.

“I want to be able to leave the house when I have something important to do without mummy saddling me with chores and giving me curfews” he grumbled. We knew our mother so we knew he wasn't just trying to escape.

My mother could manufacture chores from nowhere and was always going to give a curfew time whenever you told her you had to be somewhere.

“So if mummy stops giving you curfews and allows you to stay locked up in your room because we know that's what you want,” my older brother and I chuckled, “would you stay with her?”

“I can manage” We all burst into laughter. He was looking for freedom, we all knew that, but he wasn't getting it until his admission into the university.

“Okay mummy,” my sister continued, “please Flourish is a growing boy, he needs some space. Flourish is not like your first son who can sit in the house doing all your chores without complaining, this one is a different child, with a different attitude…..”

“You people want to teach me how to train my child now?” My mother cut my sister short. I was restraining myself from bursting into hysteric laughter and I knew my siblings were doing the same.

“No mummy,” my older brother cut in, “we just want Flourish to stay with you and assist you since you've been complaining of waist and back pains. Besides, you shouldn't do certain chores like washing clothes or fetching water anymore. Even going to the market”

We all fell silent, waiting for my mom and younger brother to object again but neither of them did.

I felt that was how it was supposed to be. I wasn't comfortable each time I saw old men and women struggling in the market on their own, going to farms, or even carrying water on their heads or pushing trucks. It just didn't sit well with me.

At the same time, as I took the first bend out of my street and saw Baba Pami still cycling away in the distance, I thought about the possibility of him having struggling children. It was possible that all his children were away because they were hustling to cater to their needs and possibly some of his.

I sighed wearily. It wasn't an easy judgment to make but if his children were away hustling, then they needed to raise the resources to hire someone to assist their father, the man was already too old to continue jumping his bicycle. Yet I knew it wasn't easy. They were probably still too young to be saddled with such responsibility and maybe didn't earn enough to assist him.

Which was why I was very particular about long-term investments and having children on time. If there was anything I didn't like, it was struggling to raise children in middle or old age. Just like my older sister, I wanted to have all my children before 27 and raise them so that by the time I am 50, they would already be big enough to start finding their feet.

I also wanted to make investments that could pay me in the long run so that I didn't have to depend on my children to send me money for survival. If at all they wanted to send, it would be a gesture of honor and not a giving out of compulsion.

When I looked back at Baba Pami, he was completely gone from sight but I pitied him, whatever the case, he didn't deserve to suffer like that in his old age.