Before I start this post, I want to say this. Whenever I write about family, I would always say something like "this is my last time talking on this subject". My intention is always genuine, but I usually end up writing another family post a couple months later. This is because I really have no one to vent to when it comes to family issues. A long time ago, I made the decision not to talk about family problems with any outsiders, including my best and only friend Brooklyn Mike. I noticed how complaining about family to non-family members always ended up making me look bad. Saying that my mom or dad is an idiot (for example) simply says to someone that I not only come from idiots, but that I have no respect for family privacy which would make me look even worse. On this blog, I can anonymously rant about family issues without embarrassing anyone in real life. So when I write a post about family, it usually means that I can't hold it in anymore and need to let it out. With that said, let's begin.
I've been dealing with my father Alan's finances after he was scammed by Morona, a pastor from his church who took advantage of his stroke and blindness to rob him of all his money. And when I say all his money, I literally mean everything. Six figure bank accounts cleaned out. Once I found out about it, I kicked her out and have been trying to get his finances back on track. This includes tracking down credit cards that Morona opened up as "power of attorney", explaining to debt collectors that the debts were fraudulent, and going on payment plans with utility companies to get him back on track. I even took my savings ($19,000) that I was to use for paying off my debts to pay off his house before it went into foreclosure. One would think that it would be enough and he would be grateful. Well he's not.
Alan continues to call and bother me about bullshit, thinking he can order me around like I'm his fucking employee. He just doesn't seem to care. Example? Okay.
One day I went over to his place, where he and his friend proceed to lecture me about taking care of him. When his friend left, Alan asked me if I understood what he said. I told him that I understood, but he can't ask me for more money because I have no money. All my money went to paying off his house (true). I even had to refinance one of my two properties and take a second job just to help pay off my new debts (LIE). I basically lied to him to see if an extreme situation would help him understand just how much I have to deal with. The very next day, we talked about his finances and this dude asked if I can give him $100 a month. The very next fucking day. And it all goes back to how my parents are...
When I was a kid, both my mom and dad had this weird thing where they would treat their friends better than their kids. It was almost as if they raised their kids just to fit into some kind of club with their buddies. The only times I remember my dad being nice to me was when he had his friends over. And I still remember my mom punishing me, and then inviting neighbors over to watch for some sick reason. I mean, I would be holding a chair over my head while kneeling on a pile of rocks, and Anita would bring over my next door neighbor just to show him for some reason. Like, "Hey, see what my son did?! Look at how I punish him. I'm a good mother, right?!" Why on Earth would any normal human being get pleasure embarrassing their children in front of their friends? Is it some Old World Nigerian bullshit?
When I paid off his house and rescued him from foreclosure, I did it because I thought he had changed. I figured that being robbed of his sight, robbed of his money, and two strokes had humbled him and he was a changed man. But he's the exact same guy from years ago. The guy that would beat my ass for stuttering during prayer. The same guy who showed me his bank account before I left to Smalltown, telling me to stay close to him... as if his son could be bought. For decades he took such pride in his conclave of friends, exalting them every chance he got. When my mom Anita divorced him, this was the same guy who tried starting a new family and constantly brought up how the daughter's boyfriend cared about him more than I did. Now that he's blind, barely mobile, and broke, where are his friends now? This is a real question, not boasting. Where are they? And even though his friends don't help him, he still manages to find ways to pride them over me. Whenever his church friends complain about me or my sister in front of him, he agrees instead of defending his own kids. I'm telling you, it must be a Nigerian thing.
I feel better now. I've been waiting to write this for months, and I know I left a lot of stuff out. Reading it back, this post even looks a bit like rambling. But the main points are:
1) Both my mom and dad value the opinions of friends over family.
2) My dad could care less if I go broke, as long as I do what he wants.
3) The very first paragraph of this post proves that their legacy will die with them. I choose to respect family and refuse to look good at the expense of my family.
P.S.: The funniest part of this is that, when I kicked Morona out and took over, he assumed that it would bring us closer together. Instead, I have the same intense disdain for him that I had when I was a kid and would silently pray for God to kill him during family prayers. We're farther apart than ever. What a shame.
I've been dealing with my father Alan's finances after he was scammed by Morona, a pastor from his church who took advantage of his stroke and blindness to rob him of all his money. And when I say all his money, I literally mean everything. Six figure bank accounts cleaned out. Once I found out about it, I kicked her out and have been trying to get his finances back on track. This includes tracking down credit cards that Morona opened up as "power of attorney", explaining to debt collectors that the debts were fraudulent, and going on payment plans with utility companies to get him back on track. I even took my savings ($19,000) that I was to use for paying off my debts to pay off his house before it went into foreclosure. One would think that it would be enough and he would be grateful. Well he's not.
Alan continues to call and bother me about bullshit, thinking he can order me around like I'm his fucking employee. He just doesn't seem to care. Example? Okay.
One day I went over to his place, where he and his friend proceed to lecture me about taking care of him. When his friend left, Alan asked me if I understood what he said. I told him that I understood, but he can't ask me for more money because I have no money. All my money went to paying off his house (true). I even had to refinance one of my two properties and take a second job just to help pay off my new debts (LIE). I basically lied to him to see if an extreme situation would help him understand just how much I have to deal with. The very next day, we talked about his finances and this dude asked if I can give him $100 a month. The very next fucking day. And it all goes back to how my parents are...
When I was a kid, both my mom and dad had this weird thing where they would treat their friends better than their kids. It was almost as if they raised their kids just to fit into some kind of club with their buddies. The only times I remember my dad being nice to me was when he had his friends over. And I still remember my mom punishing me, and then inviting neighbors over to watch for some sick reason. I mean, I would be holding a chair over my head while kneeling on a pile of rocks, and Anita would bring over my next door neighbor just to show him for some reason. Like, "Hey, see what my son did?! Look at how I punish him. I'm a good mother, right?!" Why on Earth would any normal human being get pleasure embarrassing their children in front of their friends? Is it some Old World Nigerian bullshit?
When I paid off his house and rescued him from foreclosure, I did it because I thought he had changed. I figured that being robbed of his sight, robbed of his money, and two strokes had humbled him and he was a changed man. But he's the exact same guy from years ago. The guy that would beat my ass for stuttering during prayer. The same guy who showed me his bank account before I left to Smalltown, telling me to stay close to him... as if his son could be bought. For decades he took such pride in his conclave of friends, exalting them every chance he got. When my mom Anita divorced him, this was the same guy who tried starting a new family and constantly brought up how the daughter's boyfriend cared about him more than I did. Now that he's blind, barely mobile, and broke, where are his friends now? This is a real question, not boasting. Where are they? And even though his friends don't help him, he still manages to find ways to pride them over me. Whenever his church friends complain about me or my sister in front of him, he agrees instead of defending his own kids. I'm telling you, it must be a Nigerian thing.
I feel better now. I've been waiting to write this for months, and I know I left a lot of stuff out. Reading it back, this post even looks a bit like rambling. But the main points are:
1) Both my mom and dad value the opinions of friends over family.
2) My dad could care less if I go broke, as long as I do what he wants.
3) The very first paragraph of this post proves that their legacy will die with them. I choose to respect family and refuse to look good at the expense of my family.
P.S.: The funniest part of this is that, when I kicked Morona out and took over, he assumed that it would bring us closer together. Instead, I have the same intense disdain for him that I had when I was a kid and would silently pray for God to kill him during family prayers. We're farther apart than ever. What a shame.
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