30/05/2026
My story is a long one, but I want to share it because for the past three months, I have been carrying this pain alone and I still cry whenever I remember.
I had a woman working for menothing Her work was simple ā she only washed clothes for me and nothing more.
As time went on, I became extremely good to this woman and her family. When I say good, I mean extremely good.
I fed her.
I clothed her.
I clothed her children.
I even extended my care to her grandchildren.
I sell water for a living, but because she worked for me, I told her and her family never to pay for water. For more than two years, they fetched water from my house freely and I never collected a dime.
When one of her daughters had marital problems and returned home after separation, I welcomed her too. I gave clothes to the daughter and to the children.
One of her grandchildren, a little boy, was constantly sick. I cannot count how many times I carried that child to the hospital myself and paid bills.
When her daughter got pregnant and eventually gave birth, I supported them too.
Most of the baby's clothes came from me.
I gave cash gifts.
I visited.
I celebrated with them.
At some point, I stopped seeing them as people working for me.
I genuinely saw them as family.
People around even became jealous because of how much I welcomed them.
There were times money disappeared from my house.
There were times things happened that hurt me deeply.
But I covered everything.
I never embarrassed them.
I never exposed them.
I kept quiet.
Even from my husband.
Then one day, something happened.
One of the grandchildren came to my house and I noticed his private part was badly swollen.
I became worried immediately.
When I asked what happened, nobody seemed concerned.
I became uncomfortable because this child was barely four years old.
I rushed to meet my husband and asked him for help.
Thankfully, he gave me money.
I handed the money over and told them to take the child to the hospital immediately.
This is who I was to these people.
Now let me tell you about myself.
I wake up around 2am every day.
I cook.
Prepare my three children for school.
Take them to school.
Return and head straight to my business.
I close around 6 or 7pm.
By the time I return home every day, I am exhausted.
But I hate coming back to a dirty house.
So one day, because I was tired, I asked one of her daughters to help mop my house.
I gave them my house keys before leaving.
When I returned later that evening, the house was exactly the way I left it.
Nothing had been mopped.
I asked the young boy staying in my shop what happened.
He told me he called the girl several times but she refused to come.
I became confused.
I went to ask.
Then the mother answered for her.
She said her daughter refused to mop because the previous time she mopped, I didn't give her the usual ā¦1,000.
I was shocked.
Because the particular day they were talking about, instead of cash, I had given the girl two modules of rice and two modules of beans from my shop.
I gave her food because I wanted them to go home and cook.
I wanted them to eat.
Yet this was the reason?
I asked myself:
Is this the same family I have sacrificed for?
I reminded them:
Have I ever collected money for water all these years?
Have I not fed you people?
Have I not supported your children?
Have I not paid bills?
Have I not given clothes?
Have I not treated you like family?
Then I said:
"So I am a fool?"
That was when she said the words that broke me completely.
She said:
"Did I force you to do all those things?"
That sentence destroyed me.
I sat down there and cried.
I cried from their house to mine.
I cried that day.
Three months later, I am still crying.
Not because of money.
Not because of rice.
Not because of ā¦1,000.
But because I gave people my heart, my resources, my time, my energy and treated them like family...
Only to discover that maybe I was family to myself alone.
