The last thing anyone wants to endure while mourning a loved one is overbearing relatives or friends who are too self-absorbed to offer real support.
But that’s the experience of the 5 Nigerians we spoke to for this story.
Seun*
I lost my dad while I was in university, and all I wanted was support and genuine love from those I considered family.
My extended family pulled the classic move of blaming my mother for my dad’s death. My disdain for them grew when they wanted her to travel home before the burial for some disgusting rituals like sleeping in a room with his corpse, rolling a chicken over her head, and other vile things. Thankfully, with the support of strong allies, that didn’t happen.
During a meeting with my uncles and aunties in the village, they said the most terrible things about my family. They assumed my dad was filthy rich and blamed my mum for not spoiling them enough. They even called her a witch and accused me of not caring about my dad. They queried me for being in school during his last days in the hospital. The truth is, my dad had insisted I shouldn’t be told so I could focus on my studies.
In the end, they tried to reconnect with me, but I shut them off on all platforms. Looking back, it really hurt how they treated us. It felt like a Nollywood movie. Today, I’m grateful for the lessons I learned and that none of those vultures saw me become anything before revealing their true colours. May God judge them all, on earth and after.
Deborah*
I wanted privacy the most when I lost my dad. I wish we hadn’t had so many visitors, and I wish I didn’t have to think about office work. I also wish we hadn’t rushed the final burial — it felt like a party, and I wasn’t in a celebratory mood at all.
While I didn’t have any issues with my relatives, there was an incident with my mum and step-siblings that I didn’t appreciate. My step-siblings had an argument with my mum about the saara (almsgiving) and prayer session. My mum wanted a private event for my dad on a different day, but my stepsiblings insisted on a general one. She explained that her session was something personal for her late husband, but they didn’t see the need for two separate events. That wasn’t the drama I wanted at the time.
Hassan*
My dad spent a lot of time in the hospital before he passed, and a large chunk of our family’s finances went into his care. After he died, we had about ₦1.7 million in hospital bills to settle. I would have appreciated any financial help we got.
But our extended family couldn’t read the room. They constantly asked me or my mum for money to buy petty things. It got so bad that they expected us to drop money to buy bread one morning when a neighbour gave us a pot of stew. Another time, we ran out of water, and one of them asked for ₦500 to buy a bag. Their presence became so irritating.
Wahab*
After our dad died, my siblings and I were in panic mode. We were still in university, and dad was solely responsible for our school fees and other expenses. I needed reassurance, someone to tell me things would get better, because my anxiety about the future was through the roof. I could hardly sleep and felt a constant knot in my chest.
Sadly, this was when my dad’s sisters decided to act up. On their first visit, they asked for the landed property documents belonging to their mum(my granny). They said that since my dad, the firstborn, was gone, it was only right that the documents were passed to them. My mum didn’t want to get into any property tussle, so we handed the documents over. But it made us super-guarded about my dad’s properties. They later tried to excuse their actions, but it was too late.
Busola*
The first time I felt resentment toward my family was after I lost a friend. I don’t have any female siblings, so she was like the sister I never had.
After she died, my parents and siblings just said “sorry” and expected me to move on. I still had to cook, clean, and do other chores around the house. They never said it out loud, but their actions clearly pointed to one question: “Is she your family?”
It would have been nice to feel loved and cherished by them during that time, but I didn’t get any of that. I was constantly hungry but had no appetite to eat the food I made for them, and I was too sad to make myself anything or go out to buy food.
Read this next: I Couldn’t Find My Mum’s Grave, and It Broke My Heart