How Money Ruined My Family

I read the sister guide often with the Mrs. At first she had to force me to read some dilemmas but I caved in with The Sisterverse.  Big well done to you girls. I thought this would be a good opportunity to give a male perspective on certain issue within the community. I hope you consider this story of mine it took a lot for me to write it. There were past wounds brought up but Alhamdulillah I’m in a better place.

This is my story of how money ruined my family.

As the oldest in my family, I was the second dad in the house and my parents especially my hooyo relied on me. It wasn’t small things like helping out picking up the kids, a lot more labour was involved. I had to get a job at 16 and immediately half of my paycheck was given to the family. But this was calm, part of being the oldest meant that logically I became a giver. In retrospect I realise this is probably where it began. I didn’t necessarily stand up for myself in those regards. I gave everything I could whenever I could give it.

I liked this part because it made me feel like I was the provider and that I helped my family. Even as a young boy I took pride in doing that and it made me more responsible as a man. In some households not many Somali brothers are taught how to be responsible and the labour is often passed onto their sisters to do what they should be doing. This wasn’t the case for me at all. I made sure I excelled in my studies so I could get a better job inshallah to do this for my family.

I went on to University, and my mum already knew what SFE was. She encouraged me to take the maximum loans. It was her sister, aunt Khadra [this is a fake name] that pressured her to ask me. She has a lot of daughters and they all went to university so she was well aware of SFE payments. Of course I was calm with this. But afterwards this kept happening and it started to feel like things were just being taken from my pockets and that I didn’t have much say where it went. My course was very prestigious and there was a reason why the loan was so big. My schedule was jam packed with lectures and there was no way of even considering to get a job. If I wanted to excel my degree had to be my primary focus. So in that regards the loan would have been very helpful. With this I had to buy everything. Course books were expensive, I needed a new laptop and several other things. But my mum said she desperately needed my sfe that term because a family member abroad was very sick. I gave it straight away without thinking, anything my hooyo needed I will give her, even if it’s my last.

So I continued working throughout the weekends to pay off what I needed. I won’t lie it was difficult. I was broke as a joke. I met my wife around this time and I couldn’t even afford to take her on a date but the January installments were coming. Right before then my aunt Khadra called me asking if she could borrow some money for her young children’s tuition. Her husband died along time ago May Allah widen his grave. So she was raising the younger ones herself and most of the older girls were either moved out or got married. She said if her husband was here she wouldn’t struggle so much and to me this justified giving her half of my payments. I feel bad for people a lot that stops me from having boundaries but it was money at the end of the day and I knew I was getting it back. This pattern of giving my sfe loans away continued throughout my whole studies up until I graduated, even my uncle got money from me. No one gave it back and I didn’t see a penny of it.

I landed an incredible graduate job and I was starting on a 50k salary. I wanted to keep that to myself but hooyo was eager to know what I was earning. When I told her she was very happy and proud of me. She started talking about stuff to spend my money on like ayuto and how I should save money the usual stuff your hooyo would say haha. Quickly though she let me know I would have to pay towards the rent but I was fine with that I was already doing that before but on a minor scale.

I wanted to keep my earnings private but by the end of my first week at my new job, my whole family from back home knew. They kept asking me for stuff and random numbers kept calling me. This is where it gets very depressing because looking back my generosity was taken as a weakness. They created stories, people being sick, family members needing money, being homeless. All tricks to continue me giving money to them.

Not once did I get to enjoy the fruits of my labour, every month I was paying someone else’ bills. Money became the bane of my life and there was no excitement of getting that end of month pay check because I knew by the second day it would be gone out of my account. The only thing I could look forward to was my wife and around this time we wanted to get married. To this day I cherish her. She helped to distract me from the depressing thoughts that were persistent. I had never been suicidal before this point but I was slowly getting there. I thought as soon as we were to get married that my family would have some shame and stop asking me for money. But when I suggested marriage, they were all opposed to it. They said your family needs you, who is this girl? All things to stop me from marrying her. The next day aunt Khadra came to the house with a rumour that my mrs was a gold digger and that she tried to get married to someone else before. I confronted her about it and she said it wasn’t true and I believed her.  But it didn’t make sense to me that my aunt would lie so I did have doubts. I didn’t end up marrying her that time but we continued to date.

The money grabbing tactics continued and it made me severely depressed. I was paying for my aunt Khadra to go back and forth to visit sick family because my mum was unable to. Every day I was spending. My colleagues who had started with me all had enough to put down deposits for homes and I had debts. All I could think about was what I had to pay and it messed with me. My mental health was suffering to the point I had to step away from work. I didn’t care about not getting another next paycheck I just needed the rat race to stop.

When I told my parents, my mum changed her demeanor towards me. She called me incompetent, that I was a big man with no job and how could I lose my job? When I told her about my mental health and how much I deteriorated throughout the year I thought she would have sabr for me. In these exact words this is what she said to me

“How can you be sick in your head? You should be embarrassed to even say that”

My home life became so hostile. My mum stopped bringing me food or washing my clothes. Every time she saw me she would sigh or mutter something under her breath. It was very clear she didn’t want me there. I questioned so much how she could change and it didn’t make sense to me. My abo felt bad I could tell but he didn’t stand up for me either it was just the ‘isaga daa’ but that’s it.

I asked my mum for money a few times and each time she rejected me and told me to go back to work. Each time felt a stab to the chest because my whole life I spent giving my mum every last penny. I got desperate and asked my aunt Khadra for a loan and she said she was broke and it should be her asking me for money. It was the same with my uncle who continually used to ask me for money too. In my time of need I had nothing and no one to support me. But I had patience

I decided to use the last of my credit card to visit family back home and spend a few months getting my mental health back in order. I thought the sun would do me good. To this day I’m beyond words of how my family did me on this trip

When I got there I stayed with my ayeeyo and some of my cousins. All of them had the latest iPhones and a PS4, a stark contrast to what my family had told me. I asked them who got them this and to my shock, they said it was Khadra and that she was their favourite aunty but theres more.

Aunt Khadra has a business here and it was a big store of her selling goods she bought from the UK and business was booming. She even had land and built a home. I kept asking myself how she had money because to me she was penniless and destitute. That day wallahi I felt anger like never before. All the lies all the deceit used to trick me into giving her money the position she put me in. It didn’t occur to me that my mum was in on this too until my cousin said to me “why are you not staying in your mother’s house that she has?”

A house? Not once did my mum ever mention a house to me. When I asked him to show me this house, when we got there I saw there were people living in there and that’s when I found out she was renting it out. That’s when I started asking more questions, which family member was sick, who was struggling. All the things my family were telling me when they were sucking me dry. All my cousins laughed at me like I was crazy. They had no clue who I was talking about

That’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I kept thinking about everything I lost being charitable to my family. I have never been hurt so much before but this was on another level. My own hooyo betraying me. My kindness used against me and in my time of need those people were no where to be seen.

A few nights after I booked my flight back and I was on violence.

That day I landed I sat everyone down and told them everything I knew. I called them thieves, I called them selfish and I called them liars. This was the first time I had ever raised my voice to my family but it was happening. At first they tried to deny it but I showed pictures of the houses, the shops, voicenotes of my cousins saying aunt Khadra got them the phones all coming out of their mouth. Irrefutable evidence of them cheating me out of money. That’s when the couldn’t deny it but instead they went on to say that it was none of my business what they decided to do with the money, whatever I gave was charity. The last thing I said to them was so why didn’t you help me? They had nothing to say.

That day I moved out of the house. I took all my things with me and was never going back. There was something you said Lula that resonates with me. You have two choices to make and its either to go forward or go backwards. I learned this the hard way because especially for us brothers, there is no one to pick you up after you’ve fallen. I remembered everything that was done to me and it gave me the fire in my stomach that I needed to make me go forward. I didn’t know where I was going but I was going somewhere God willing

Alhamdulillah I was able to crash with some of my boys and one of them hooked me up with an interviewed. I smashed it. It was like I didn’t even skip a beat. I was steadfast in getting myself right again.

Half a year of working I was able to save up to rent my own pad. That first feeling of having my own place was some of my best moments as a man. I felt vindicated I was finally seeing all the fruits of my labour. I knew being on my own was what I was supposed to do. I was able to continue saving, and with that I was finally able to get married Alhamdulillah. I don’t care If I sound gay haha but my Wife is my everything. She held me down through bleak times and for that I’ll always cherish her until the last of my days. I thank Allah everyday for her.

Thanking Allah for His Many Blessings is prob my lesson here. I’m thankful for everything, for existing, for being given the tools to repair my health and to start again. You said something a long the lines of sometimes Allah tests you with family and I believe this.

 فَإِنَّ مَعَ الْعُسْرِ يُسْرًا

Verily with every hardship, there is ease.

Till this day my relationship with my mum still needs repairing, I have sabr things will work out. I ask you and the community here to make sincere dua for me. I forgive my mum and without her I wouldn’t be here. I know I will never have bakarah in my life as long as we are not on good terms. I don’t speak to my aunt or my uncle.

Thank you