The Story of An Ada: Chinyere

The Book of Ada: Chinyere

 

Written by an Ada, About an Ada, For an Ada

 

Introduction

The story of Chinyere: Chinyere is a small, Nigerian girl who was born and raised in California in the year 2999. She goes through her lifetime from her birth to late teens and first year of her twenties, the year 3020. Here is her story, the story of Chinyere.

 

The Book of Ada: Chinyere

“Chinyere! Chinyere! Chi Oh! Bring my bag, anam na eje store.” Mom and Dad are always going to downtown together on Saturday mornings, something I never noticed until now as a freshman because I was always away at school on Saturday mornings in high school. There’s a garden outside now that I came back from school, and it’s my favorite place. I’m happy that they left because now I can finally relax and write— exactly what I’m going to do right now at the pond near the garden.

 

Whenever I go to the pond and the sun and clouds are out, I always see a cloud shaped like an angel, or a fairy. I look into the sky and just breathe, freely and deeply, and then I write. The sunshine and the presence I feel from it remind me of my grandma, and then I look into the clouds and think of my her: fairy grandmother, one of one of Enugu Agidi.

 

“I miss you so much grandma”, Chinyere writes. The sun gets warmer, and as Chinyere starts to write about life, she zones out, and her notes show:

 

“I was born Nneamaka Chinyere Nwada-Johnsons on September 27th in ‘99. An eight-pound child who knew nothing about what her future held. A carbon-copy of her father, she yelled, was aggressive and acted exactly like her two older role models: her brothers. A girl that was called ‘baby’ until about three years old and didn’t know her own name until then, she was loved by her dad like no other then. From what I remember, my mom was usually at work or school when I was little, so grandpa, dad, Odogwu and Aka te aka—who we just called Akataka— were the people I stormed the house with.

 

Before I was about five years old, I felt really loved. I was the baby of the house supposedly. Those days of screaming in my dad’s face because he replaced my field trip slip, causing all the veins in his throat to unleash were momentous. I was daddy’s little girl, truly. But he definitely didn’t go too easy on me. There were the preschool incidents when I told a classmate to shut up and was immediately disciplined when I got home by my dad, and the usual sneaking into my parents’ room to watch T.V. with cousins that would land me in some trouble. Up until I was about in the first grade, I knew I was loved by some of the closest people to me, including my dad. When I started to get big in my dad’s eyes, everything changed. Around this time, I felt I was “too grown” to run to my dad before he left for work and give him a kiss on the cheek, and with the dozens of insults that would follow, I didn’t feel good about myself when I was around my dad. Starting from 6, eating in front of my dad was a constant uncomfortableness every day; I would eat slow, race my sister to see who could eat the slowest but in fact it was to ensure I didn’t eat too quick and seem too eager to have eaten that food, and I would often cover my stomach near my dad due to his stares. After I turned 6, going to the beach, parties, people’s homes with my dad would cause the usual insecure stances and awkwardness with food offers that would arise. I knew by then that when I went to people’s homes and they offered food- I could not say yes; it was either a feeling of knowing what I already been told many times, or I was directly told not to eat. This all changed when a very confident aunty asked me if I wanted food in her home, and I said something around the lines of no, I’m not allowed to [eat]— to which she then asked me why and I said my dad doesn’t like me eating food [outside of the house]. She said what in the typically Nigerian aunty voice and started speaking to my dad immediately, they started arguing and my dad became quiet and embarrassed I think. I’m not sure if I ever ate that food she offered but the fact that she stood up for me was something many “thank yous” could never suffice. I felt at that moment that a woman who was not extremely in my life had stood up for me, and that was all that was necessary for my dad to stop—some public shaming. She literally was such a light in my memories and would always be remembered because I don’t think I was told anything before going to parties anymore. This happened around 7 or 8 years old. She was a bright light in my life, and I didn’t even know it. She taught me what a woman should do and could do; she taught me that to yell and scream was much more effective and respectable than being submissive and letting someone hurt another child. Another person.

 

I was the child that was taught how to clean and mop—by my grandma—and primarily was expected to wash the dishes since I was about 7 to now. Around 14 years old, I started realizing I didn’t want to be the one washing dishes for everyone in the house, especially when it was kept spitefully for me to wash. From about 6 to maybe 10, my dad would ask me what I ate every day in a very shameful way towards me, calling me everything from a hippopotamus to a shame. He was ruthless; my brothers were told to hide all the food, so I’d have to ask whenever I wanted to eat anything. But my grandma was there most of the time, so she took care of me, all of us. When she wasn’t there, I’d have to ask, and if he said no or something, I didn’t take that too well. I was a fighter and I learned how to fight for everything I wanted.

 

But from experience I believe where there is darkness, there is light awaiting its arrival; that light was my grandma.

 

My mom and I were not too close growing up, but there were periods where I knew she wanted to be around me; However, most of the time, I knew my presence was irritating to her. From what I remember, from 1-3 years old my mother started going to school again. I seldom saw her. I recall a time I hadn’t seen her in about 3 days and on the third morning I ran out of the bathroom when I heard her leaving and waived to her out of the window to say bye. I really did love my mom when I was little, wanted to do everything she did and be just like her. Walk like her, watch her put on lipstick, everything a girly girl would think of doing with their mom. So by the time I was a little older, my mom was around again, out of school and I followed her because I just wanted to be like my mom; I probably was annoying. Around the time my dad started talking to me about my weight every day, my mom became very passive. To me, my mom was like one of us when we got in trouble with our dad, she would act sad and be crying as well. So, their relationship was strange to me. I knew from early on that I had to defend myself and there was no one that was going to defend me better than I could defend myself, even when I couldn’t anymore. My grandma was honestly my mother figure growing up; I didn’t like her all the time because well she disciplined a lot, but she cared about me. We would watch T.V. together, she never minded if I was near her and liked to talk to me and my sister. Or even just me. When she was gone, I felt a big loss in the family, that was after my grandpa died in 3010 and she left at the end of that year or around that time when my parents came back from Nigeria. She tried to make everything special, even if it was little. She genuinely cared. She was my tooth fairy from my first tooth I believe to almost my last. She taught me how to cook and clean, and she loved me like no other; if it weren’t for my grandparents growing up, I wouldn’t have known what loving care was ever. I thank God that I had them growing up, because I had love from my grandpa up until he died and then I had love from my grandma. She was the mother I never really understood I had, and I thank God for her every day that she’s not here with us. I will miss her and appreciate her in my life more than I will ever miss any other person. Now on July 3rd, 3018, I will finally do the surgery she called me to say good luck for before she died, and I hope that I make it out to tell my story.

 

Chinyere stops writing and becomes present again, now a Tuesday morning, and about to leave to go do her first ever surgery at 18. A month later, when she feels she wants to write again, her pages show:

 

After my dad started to see I wasn’t skinny, he bought a treadmill and I had to run on it every day after school and my brother would watch me sometimes. It was like a chore, I had to do it and there were no exceptions. From about 6 to 10, my dad would ask me every single night about exactly what I ate and pound me with so many insults. I would have to do sit ups or push-ups at night right in front of him, every day. I’m not sure if he already bought the treadmill by this time, but I’m sure he made me do both if my stomach still looked big at night. When I would come home from school and ask to eat, my dad would insult the hell out of me, and I’ll never forget me calling and he said “you are a hippopotamus” and telling my mom and she laughed. My mom was there almost every night I would be called out for my weight and basically cussed out in Igbo with every insult word, and she would just sit there. Sometimes stick her tongue out at him, but to me, that made no impact at all because he still insulted me. There were never any, this is enough, she’s only 6, she’s just a child; it was only until I got older and realized exactly what was happening when I was little did I ask her why she never ever said anything—she would simply reply with “I’m sorry’s” or deflect with an argument. I never understood how a grown mother and wife could allow someone to dehumanize a child so viciously and never say a word. But my dad didn’t just do this to me, he told my mom to shut up when she would start talking, and she would look sad, and they argued a lot with her crying sometimes. She never really seemed happy with my dad around those ages. After about 10 or 11, I think it just gradually stopped because I started playing sports—the chubby weight came off easily and I grew taller. After that it wasn’t too bad anymore, until I got to the seventh grade and went to public school. I wasn’t allowed to wear shorts, only jeans and shirts that had sleeves. When I wore my hair maybe down or something or wore eyeliner, he would call me a prostitute several times, but my mom wouldn’t believe me I think. She didn’t believe a lot, and if she did, she would blame me. I think being big in my house growing up, being the first daughter, and being curvy after I grew into my body made me have a completely different life than anyone in the house; my sister- Gladness-- never went through a quarter as much as I went through. I honestly hate both my mom and my dad, one for his cruelty and the other for her blind submission. My social life growing up on the contrary was great. I was always confident and extremely outspoken, the balance worked out because even though home life was bad and filled with so many insecurities, I had a great school life where I was respected for my confidence and intelligence. I loved school and my friends. That all changed when I left Mary Bar and went to high school, where both my social life and school life were unsecured and terrible. My dad’s insults continued, and my mom’s absence was even greater when she started working night shift. She never had a big presence in my life regardless though. I had a bad grade in Biology and my dad would continuously tell me about what I was doing wrong every single day in the car going home. Sophomore year was when things were done that I would always remember; they were irreversible. I would come home from practice at about 10pm at night and my dad would leave everybody’s dishes in the sink for me to wash to show me what it is to be a wife and how to be a girl. I was 15 and had a lot of homework every day. He would call me down and talk to me to tell me that when he sees me, he sees nothing, no man will ever want me and that I’m worthless. That night was a night I’d never forget. I prayed to God so hard and thanked him for being my Father and that I had someone I knew loved me. I became spiritual and more religious in high school during this time because I felt like I had no one. Nothing was going right in my life, my social life was gone; Dad hated when I went out and continuously said I went out too much, which I didn’t at all. School was bad; something I loved, but I think that being sad all the time really affected me in every aspect of my life. I literally thought I was worthless, dumb, ugly, and not good enough for anything. That kind of an impact of my dad telling me those things when school was already bad only trickled down into other parts of my life more severely. That was the beginning I believe of my long-term sadness. I never truly got out of that period of my life. I just moved from friend groups and sports and tried to continue with my life. I was mean and felt alone during these times; mean to my friends at school in the beginning of the year and mean to my brother because I didn’t like his presence at the time. I went on into the summer literally doing nothing and thinking about death every single day of each month. I didn’t play any sports or be involved like a fool, I just sat at home and cried or daydreamed about the life I wanted. I hated getting up every day. I had very few friends at this point and getting someone to hang out with was so hard I just stopped. I barely had integrity, but I didn’t want to lose the small part I still had, so I stopped asking after that summer mostly and just stayed at home. I wanted to die every day. I woke up thinking about it and spent the whole day thinking about different ways and how it would affect my family if I died. Every day was just another day I had to live, and it was embarrassing; I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing but I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing what I was doing. Junior year was an outstretched misery, but also a different kind. I really didn’t love myself”.

 

 

Childhood to teens/collegehood

 

Mom screams 4 or 5, says maybe shouldn’t have been born

 

Run to grandma, she holds me and then she just looked at mom in shock mom comes running right behind me then sees grandma

 

I sleep in grandmas room for a few weeks I think around this time

 

Mom tries to make up by waking me early to shower with her to bond

 

I sleep in grandmas room with her for a while

 

Maybe dad is in Nigeria

 

Grandpa is not home at night, must be at aunty ijeomas house in Pv, we lived in San Pedro

 

I never forgot

 

Grandma was always close to me after this but never said anything I think she knew I would need her and I loved her

 

 

 

Became chubby in parents eyes (dads) eyes

 

Sister said she was 40 pounds, she was four which is normal, I said I was 60-80 pounds, I was 6. My dad stopped and said wow, 60 pounds?! We were standing at the door/side of the bed of grandpas room and he was inside the closet area where there was this big chest with all of our Nigerian clothes. That was the day all of the lists every night before going to bed, hide all of the food, have to call to eat at home, sit ups and push ups before bed, treadmill was bought around 7-8 years old for me, and I had to do it every day after school/coming back from library then and if I didn’t my direct older brother would be watching me, sometimes we’d work out together me and dad but never that fun, gained more weight because very sad why only child had to do all of this, lost weight naturally by age 9 when in the fourth grade that’s when Mary star the kids could start playing sports, I always talked a lot at school when little, told someone once and they looked at my brother and said is that true about the treadmill? brother looked down and said yeah, first time I realized it wasn’t a good thing. Still confident because all if this happened before age 8, from like 6 or 7-8 years old then I grew like 6 inches in one year from beginning of fifth grade to sixth grade, 6 inches and started wearing makeup and looking pretty. Light makeup we weren’t allowed to paint nails or wear heavy makeup because school rules. Was okay and was healed by the time I was like 13 from all of this, already double the age of when it happened.

 

Turned 18 and went to college in Bashington, DC and then Nigeria happened. Said I needed to lose weight yelling at the front of the house and uncle and people were there listening. I walked away and didn’t turn, brought back everything I hadn’t felt in over honestly like a decade. Gained like ten pounds freshman year, this happened, we had talk, told me oh shutup when I said he shouldn’t have said it like that when we are upstairs in the living room in aragana, was sad didn’t know how to speak for myself. Too sensitive of a topic, hadn’t been talked to like that fir long time was very fit and very skinny in high school for the most part,  didn’t like how I looked though. Told mom and duster as soon as it happened very sad, mom just sat right in front and didn’t say anything, sister said what?! Out loud

 

Going to moms village Erenebe

 

Asked grandma if I looked fat

I was standing, and she said no very confidently, and I knew she would tell me the truth, she had before, could be mean once 

 

Last convo I would ever have

 

I love her with my soul

 

Went back to school sad after traveling alone and with another family (blood but didn’t remember them so barely knew them at this time but closer to the kids)

and sad and started running then one day said to myself am I doing it for me or what.

 

When I went to visit brother for senior night college game first semester freshman year said to me I was embarrassing to be in the picture bc I gained ten pounds in college. Turned photo around in the kitchen bc said that and reminded me of that moment.

 

Would be in garage searching up about all careers and dad would say do you work out? Or do you go to the gym or something like that and I would just say no fiercely and then he’d turn around first time I’d ever seen him jump at my response and then walk away and went inside house

 

Would cry

 

Would run at park, then started taking long beautiful walks early in the morning, for myself

 

Wrote a letter to dad saying I hated the way he’d treated me when younger, yelling at me in front of an uncle in Nigeria that I had to lose weight trying to disgrace me, that I couldn’t get a job I wanted bc I was a girl, I think that was the first time since j was maybe 4 or 5 where I had actually said exactly how I felt with no shame

 

Was very very sad, had not seen face like that since grandma- not the one that lived with us- died, I felt like I could breathe

 

This happened after surgery

I can explain how I felt with surgery

Shame on you school shame on you

You cannot do something bad to someone without consequence

 

End of summer

 

I started therapy that summer... too sad letter was last attempt to make change

 

I felt like I could be present

 

Going to school that semester (besides the whole Having to debate to get room) was the best ever bc I felt here, inside and out, 4.0 gpa babeee in my major I was so happy I changed my major to something I’d love and I’d still be pre med and took all of these political science classes and genetics and I aced got an a in every single one of them and I  feel like for the first time ever I worked hard and got exactly what I wanted out of life.

 

Offered to do research in another country fit so much money but not a good destination place bc war

 

So happy I was offered

 

I woke up one say I think in bathroom and said congratulations we are happy to offer you the... and fell to floor and cried I kept saying or thinking this is not supposed to happen things were so good I couldn’t believe it

 

Learned how to say no after this semester and summer

 

Soul died that summer 2019- didn’t feel present again until end of summer 2020

 

 

Loved school so much since when I could imagine- close to brother bc we started school at the exact same time him 4 and they sent me at 2 and same school my whole life from 5 years-7th grade so it was so secure I loved myself so much and the people I spent everyday with, and grandparents day all of my grandpa grandma and uncle would come to the school and he’d be in a suit lol and then he’d come to the door and I’d run to him and he’d pick me up in front of the whole class and then my grandma was already there and my grandpa would come and he was so nice and I loved him for coming I’d see him during school because we would have mass and he always would go to church everyday so I’d see him all of the time and everyone knew him and he would wave at me during school and I loved him so much and then he’d give me crackers from his dialysis when I got back home lol

my mom and dad would be at work obviously until like 7 so my grandma moms mom and grandpa dads dad would be at home always unless they were going on their walks and I was always at the library until 5 everyday and then when sports came it was practice everyday and I loved it and everything was always the same until he died when I was 9. June 11th, 2009 the day before the last day of 4th grade I’ll never forget

Grandma left that same year and everything was terrible after that, I’d never not lived without her or like I don’t remember well not living without her or grandpa. Grandpa came a year before I was born and grandma came to America when I born and then came to live with us forever when at 5, I remember the day she came I didn’t even want to change in front of her and I looked at my mom like how can you be removing my shirt in front of a stranger lol I was crazy, and then I loved her everyday after that because she would just talk to me and make me laugh so much about what happens in Nigeria and she would help me with my homework when I would ask my mom and she would tell me to go ask someone else so I would go to her and she would just stay with me, idk if she helped me or not but she was a small kids teacher so she was nice to me and actually wanted to be around me or let me be around her.

 

Grandpa always telling me to go near my mom and cook with her or just stay with her and she’d send me back everyday bc she didn’t want me near her

 

 

Ending for me and why: there might be a time when I God forbid see someone I love and that’s younger than me going through maybe one thing that’s happened, and even though i visit them or they us, I feel like I will forget a lot of the things that I did to maintain my integrity and not turn to something terrible to have eased my pain, and so I would write this so it will be remembered and given to them, even if it were my own blood, and them and also in doing this my soul would heal as well

 

I also feel as though a lot of daughters go through the same thing in generations when it comes to dads implicitly shaping the first girl into another version of the mom, someone they would have chosen as their spouse, and to any girl like Chinyere who genuinely viewed their dad as their dad their whole life and in turning a certain age like the end of being 19 years old realized that the way you were being viewed as a daughter was changing and you called it out immediately and got the hell out of there, it can really mess you up.

 

Let’s add that to severely disconnected mothers with their first daughters compared to second/last daughters since birth and that thanks to people’s favorite reality stars it has shined a light on this inherent disconnect that some mothers do not even try to hide, and fueled by a toxic dad’s comparing of the mom to the first girl with their looks also due to their own sick behavior, and that some mothers become foolish enough to beat them when the dad makes the mom angry when people are away or say that the daughter likes to be sexualized if the windows are open after coming from the bathroom with a towel on, and one time only someone else will see the beating and screaming to stop and just be in shock

 

I think that inactive pedophilia with daughters is a thing, and it starts implicitly and visually, and I think that the first time time it is truly seen should be the last time if not at the very least 6 months later if there is a thing called the boronavirus and you have to go back home and that is the time you very overtly notice this with a body part in the front, that should be the time to get the hell out and leave that next week. It is taught inherently. I do not know what to do if a person were to stay there for longer than that if you do not have someone that perhaps died that would’ve been as disgusted with you but would not have cancelled you that would’ve taken the situation seriously and protected you from it and if there is an extremely submissive mom who would not and has never believed anything when it came to the sublties of just being called bad things then that girl has no one. If this girl like Chinyere leaves and goes back to uni for summer school and lives in a place with all girl co livers and then for one semester, 4-5 months or so, not take any classes and heal from having noticed this in my life, and say it’s their senior year and I have enough credits bc summer school to take that semester to heal from the terrible things that have happened summer 2019 to now, I think that’s what worked for Chinyere. And Chinyere wrote and wrote and tried to heal her soul. And then finish off the last semester of senior year because i had only few credits left and had the time to take that 6 or so months, or longer to heal.

 

I think that parental jealousy with daughters is a thing that very few people will ever talk about, and fueled by both parents towards a girl makes the perfect, sad daughter. And I will rise. I think that whether just the girl, a middle eastern girl, or anyone and this is seen I hope it helps. I wrote this solely as if I were me years ago, and I were writing it for myself, to know that someone went through this and pulled themselves out and still being here in this world afterwards. I wrote this for me but I also feel like a lot of women are able to save themselves in these situations and stop their lineage from experiencing this, but the problem is I think it’s their lineage they save by seeing the problem and changing it and not their original family their siblings lineages as well and then results in their nieces and nephews being very down as well because it wasn’t called out for everyone to hear the problem and change it and they too would do the same to their own daughters, if one girl in the family doesn’t call it out and say how sick it all was.

And the first girls, most likely, will be the only ones who would’ve had this outlook.

 

 

I feel like a lot of these things whether more severe or less are what make some first girls very down and sad for a long time in their lives, and I feel like no one has ever really been able to truly talk about it and express it to the fullest extent and I feel like when very few daughters do finally express themselves they’re able to finally heal and create their families even if in their 40s or late 30s; or recreate them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I was little and before my grandma came to live with us, my mom would bake little things for dinner like chicken nuggets and she’d use the oven for the first time ever lol even though I’d lived there my whole life.

 

December 15th, 2020 at 5:51 PM

 

And shoutout to my parents for sending me to the best of best schools my entire life so that way I could be able to change for the better the one thing that matters most to me in life, family.

 

Summer of death of soul may 2019- around June July I felt my soul did and didn’t feel present until this year like august 2020 but truly awakened September 2020

 

Weird things started happening

 

Learning how to say no to an opportunity that wasn’t right for me

 

Mom and sister fight

 

Minute shifts in the way i was being viewed as a daughter

 

Told to go change, boobs looked big in a sweat suit that was zipped all the way up and covered from head to toe, charged at bc of hesitation, about to get beat

 

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Why were you all looking so forward to telling me an Aunty, a family, was talking badly about me, in your presence?

 

Author's Note

Submissive women are a deterrent to society. Stand up for yourselves. Stand up for your daughters. All of them.

 

Blind submission is the complete failure of a woman into womanhood

 

There’s a part of the past in me, And  it’s immediately released the evil and secrets are exposed and have no home in this world anymore with me, and so I share everything so that I my soul, life and everything experienced will be fully exposed and be pure in the sanctity of true peace virtue and of a true purity.

 

December 30th, 2020 at 5:45 AM

 

Insecurity

 

Volatility

 

Syndrome

 

Immunity 

 

 

January 1st, 2021 at 4:24 PM

 

The exposing everything on social media- Snapchat, liking things of the two keeping up sisters fighting (krtny and km) in 2020. Arguments all summer. Fights. Physical.

 

 

 

Mental Illness

 

I would constantly say out loud when I’m alone and I would think about them doing what they do or hitting me up until recently.

“Leave me alone”

“No”

Stop”

“Stop that”

“Please stop”

“Go away”

“Go away please”

“Nobody’s going to touch me” and I would grab my breasts and chest and just hold myself and make sure the door was fully blocked

“Get away from me”

“No please leave me alone”

 

 

January 10th 5:— AM Sunday morning

I didn’t do anything. I talked I said my mind I spoke my mind I shouldn’t have been rushed at

 

 

Implicit pedophilia is with both situations and started hen I was young at like 13, and had to end there

 

I was right this person had no boundaries

I was right

And can do just as much damage through eye contact while touching themselves and looking at you

It will always be disgusting

It makes person not know if they hate or not hate it

Why I hated when he would touch himself

It was all related and the first incident was the weirdest

Have to end implicit pedophilia now.

It can be taught maybe or maybe it’s inherent. I do not know. Ends now.

 

It’s like vicarious pedophilia- it disturbs the person maybe halfway the same I think

 

It is disturbing and can be fixed

 

Came from an unconscious message

 

It spreads to other family members from person it happens to

Has to stop with the family member that did it

 

I told my mom and she went and told the person directly

You had no one

You were right

It was okay

She did not nor would not protect you

I did what was okay

I am okay and locked my door so I would not see anyone or them

It ends with realizing problem.

It ends.

 

I said “I feel uncomfortable in this house”

They came to my room and laughed and repeated the exact text. She would not protect or do anything. She did not ask why. I remember there was a slow response after and then they came to my room. You did tell a little bit, just not everything. And then she told them immediately.

 

It ends with —.

It ends.

 

I’m sorry to anyone I’ve ever hurt that didn’t live with us when I was little, at age 5, for doing an unthinkable thing

I am so so so so so so so sorry

I do not know why I did that and things when I was that age. I’ve tried to trace back to see if something happened to me from age 0-5 years to make sense. I’m so sorry for causing you eminent and physical pain.

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Im sorry to this kindergartner when I was in the first grade and a classmate said to another classmate to pee in a bottle and give it to this girl for always taking the bouncy ball. I remember them about to give it to you and I said loudly don’t drink it, and you asked what it was and then you screamed and ran and because I was in the bathroom i was suspended and the girl that came up

With the plan and cried and cried and cried

The girl that did it was punished hard, a lot harder I think

I’m so sorry to you and your parents I don’t know what kind of pain or caution that created for you

I am so sorry that happened to you

 

I am sorry to everyone and anyone I hurt with my words, especially before a certain age when they were most cruel and raw, around 9 or 10 years old. If we were still close after that and you never let go of something I said, I'm sorry to anyone that it still affected you. You are an intelligent and beautiful being.

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I forgive for anything said and done to me past. If you feel you can't do the same, let me go. Please do not pretend to be my friend. I know. I heard. Everything my dear. I do not know how you did it for so long, pretending, until I literally couldn't come out and had to stay inside. And then my brother came home and said everything you said. You talk too badly about someone you've known your whole life. You don't openly choose between sisters boo. But you know that. I will always love you because you were one of my childhood best friends, but I will never trust you. Live your best life everyday, and I'll live mine forever. Have the best life forever

——————

I am sorry to you my sister for taking out my sadness with mom dad on you

I am so so so so so so so sorry words cannot express it

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In an technology advancement call chnstagram, there is a post that reads: 

"I will never forget those of you who were Trump supporters. You are modern- day Nazis, the slaughterers of Biafra, the beacons of hate that cause the slow rise of genocides— in any country. For you represent not only the past evil in this country, but of a people whose cynical pleasure comes before helping mankind. Those values will always be remembered."

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In another post, it reads: 

" I think it’s one of the most, if not the, most powerful country of our continent."

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Insecure Mother:

A mom who was also an ada, the first daughter, the true nwanyi abacha, of her own family for her whole life or maybe the first 18 years of life and then her youngest out of 5 siblings was born-- a girl, can have the most emotionless and stone-hearted relationship with her daughter. The same can be said for moms who were the last daughter, having a daughter display the same assertiveness and maybe personality of the mom's older sister that she secretly despised maybe, but for story purposes, I will only talk about the mom who was also an ada. This mom, who was probably her own mom's most favored child, often telling everyone because she was her first and only daughter for her whole childhood basically that if anything happened to her only daughter, that it would not be good, can then have one of the most shameful, but probably silently common, emotions towards her first-born daughter who is not her first child, unhappiness at the attention she receives. Jealousy. At the love the dad-- and something both the mom and dad should naturally give a child that is just born, especially a girl, a literal carbon copy of her-- gives the girl since birth, the grandma, grandpa, especially if maybe, the girl is the first-born daughter on both sides in America-- and the whole family for the past maybe 20 years was all boys, something she never received from that family or her own maybe since her dad died. She becomes heartless and a mother of stone, very quietly mean and wicked towards her daughter. She will tell her she wishes she was never born when maybe she was very young and the girl runs to grandma crying because dad and grandpa were not home, she'll tell her she's always coming in between the mom and the dad's marriage in her early teen years after she hears them arguing and her mom runs into her room to insult her or try to hit if they're downstairs, anything to take the anger out of her onto the daughter who when she just sees she seizes or rolls her eyes at times growing up. This can be the most nice person on the exterior with a smile of shine. If the first daughter does not call this out quickly, this can be emulated by the siblings and specifically, the sisters in their late teens. And dad and grandma and grandpa, and her sisters and brothers become her closest people, but most especially, the grandma, who will love, hold, and teach every Nigerian thing the grandma knows to the girl, and will, I think, always silently, be affectionate, talk to her more and hug more because maybe she remembers what her own daughter said to the child growing up. And that grandma will be the best person and loving older girl she gets to just be with, teaching all of the kids the igbo words, always crying with her in the morning when she didn't know she was lactose-intolerant and would have cereal everyday and forcing her to stay on the toilet, waking the first girl up and teaching her how to sweep, clean, and cook and do almost everything because that's how they did it in Nigeria. Even though I never had to actually do all of this until later when my grandma left and there had to be someone to do it. And this praising will not be liked by the mom. She will do anything to decrease too much praise someone gives to the girl, and at her first opportunity to have her go back to Nigeria when she is sick and dying, she is sent there and the daughter would never hear her grandma's voice again. This causes the most silent, how could you do that, relationship between the daughter and the mom for a long time. With anything the daughter will ever say to the mom about something bad that has happened, the mom will not believe her. I don't think it's the daughter's fault, it's a built-up over annoyance of the daughter being at the subject of anything, and the mom will show this annoyance with "oh please, that's not true." A daughter will go her whole childhood not knowing why her mom never believed her, she never lied to her, was always in fact blunt, and mean to her, unless they were dancing, or her sister or other people were around. I believe the affect can be changed by knowing what it is, keep talking and undoing any sad competition my sister and I felt. 

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Unhealthy Second Sister Syndrome: 

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When the last or second sister is born, she is unfortunately almost always compared to her direct older sister in her childhood, and in that, because of being close to my sister and knowing how she felt about things, it can cause a build-up of annoyance-- and sadly, in the most toxic scenarios, when the younger sister who was always treated as such by the dad most likely, always comparing her, always telling her to do as the older sister does, get the grades as the first girl does (in a typical, normal family dynamic where the older sister always had the most responsibility, and so then, praise), is able to finally rise and be everything she has always wanted to be, she takes on the most hate-filled, disrespectful character towards the one person who since birth always told her she was gorgeous, beautiful babe, the most intelligent, praised her every single night as they both talked and maybe cried about school in their rooms together, and when fueled by the mom (as most second daughters, for a reason probably due to the praise the dad maybe gave the first daughter, are often extremely praised and loved by a mom that is emotionless towards her first daughter, and in the most terrible situations, will be told how to and demanded to insult the first girl), it is the rage-filled relationship filled with sadly, a lifetime of built-up insecurity, between one sister towards another. In that, creates a long-standing and almost irreversible hate-filled relationship between the first girl, and sadly, most-likely, her beautiful little sister and the mom. I think this only happens and becomes irreversible if the first girl is not able to figure out what is happening quickly, realize what has been going on and the drive that has been pushing the disrespect-- most likely, not even the sister who was once her most close person since birth, but the parent-- and figure out a way to directly call it out. Parents are the driving force for sibling separation, in my years of observing and just knowing different families and what has happened to them, and also, most effectively, watching a few dynamics on reality shows and being able to really see how the terrible relationships started. Moms are the driving force between sisters hating each other, and because in a daughter relationship where the first girl is loved by the dad and mom, but because of maybe how much the dad gives the first girl attention, true insecurity arises in a mom causing her to treat the daughter differently and openly praise the second girl more, the second daughter may follow in the mom's behavior and treat the first sister, who always loved her with her whole soul and defended her, in the same way, and may even begin to like the open choosing of all of her people and close friends of her more than the sister now. In the most terrible and shameful family dynamics, where maybe one sibling is not able to spot this, and become close with again and talk to her siblings about what has been really happening and causing all of this, it lasts until their adulthood and the relationships and pain built up becomes irreversible. 

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Volatile Brothers

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Brothers who are volatile and openly take on the attitude of the dad, will most likely beat up and have no boundaries with the women in their lives-- and this will first start with, sisters. You see, people always say that the way a boy treats his mom is the way he will treat his wife, but in reality, that is not the case. If the mom is blindly submissive, dad was very controlling and the brothers still have the characters of the dad but in different ways but in modern times, then the mom and dad's personalities are too in the past to emulate, so the way he will treat girls in real time are closer to how the sister is treated. No boundary brothers, like the direct older brother out of two brothers, will touch themselves and not stop when the sister walks in and just keep looking at her while doing it and she says stop and walks faster away. They display no signs of morality and maturity in these aspects. When a family member walks in, you stop. There is no teaching this and the more upfront, read to hit you, older brother never did this, ever. They both are violent, one snaps and has red eyes and everyone knows in the house he is crazy, and is ironically the jolly one, the other is more direct and will step towards you to hit you with ease. I think when a girl learns to hit back starting really young, cuss them out too, and then tell the dad-- and only the dad because when the mom was told, she was silent, did nothing and told the brother about what the sister said happened immediately and then just slowly stopped talking to her that night-- if something strange happens, then good change in a family can happen.  

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Overattention at Daughter Dads

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There is a sick and deeper root to some dad's restrictions over the first daughter's appearance, what she can wear, her overall being-- especially, if these restrictions have never ever been towards the second/last daughter. For her whole childhood, it will be pretty normal, especially if the daughter wears a uniform to school almost her whole life. In the most strange and terrible situations, a girl will be almost beat for being completely covered up but her breasts looking too big maybe. Some things are unexplainable, like wearing a pink head to toe with a t-shirt inside and all the way zipped up jumpsuit, sitting down and being told to go change for no reason, realizing that i'm fully dressed and covered, but that something else is triggering him to tell me to go change, and then trying to beat me when I look confused-- because if any other older girl were there, they would be confused too, I was literally all covered up, zipped up from head to toe-- is sick. Implicit grooming is a real thing where the girl is scanned and stared at and looked at as not a daughter anymore. But the looking only happens once because the first daughter will call it out and write about everything to release all of the pain and disgust of everything over the years. Including calling out myself. This girl will have no one to turn to because she has her mother's inherent meanness towards her since birth for reasons only she could ever explain, and then her dad's meanness towards her now because of how her body is shaped, even if she covers up and wears nothing showing, and her oldest brother is in college, and her direct older brother did a strange thing so now she doesn't go near him unless necessary, her little sister is there to listen, but will soon become too sad too because of all that is happening so the oldest girl stops telling her all of this, and her grandma is now not in America at home with them like everyday growing up and cannot be someone to tell this too so it can be told to my mom and then to my dad, and all of this sickness combined with school and sports and friends will make her very down for many years.

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