We are six siblings, and I’m the fourth born. When I was nine, our father passed away, and Mum had a hard time catering for us alone. Our youngest, the only girl among us, was just three at the time. Life was tough, but God showed up through people. One of them was the owner of a good school in town who gave us access because of Daddy’s relationship with him. May God bless that man. Without his help, things could have been much worse.

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On days we weren’t in school, Mum made sure we had at least two meals. That alone was a miracle. I remember when one of my elder brothers got a lady pregnant and denied responsibility, but the child ended up living with us. That meant one more mouth to feed. We were a full house, and somehow, we made it work.

My elder brothers were what you’d call “ladies’ men,” and they used that to their advantage; left, right, centre, everywhere. You’d think our financial struggles would humble us in relationships, but they were bold. Their excuse was always, “Ladies like us because we’re brilliant and good-looking.” I understood them, but I matured early. By the time I got to SHS, I had already turned down more than two proposals from girls. I had found God and was deeply committed to church. I loved God with all my heart.

SHS wasn’t easy. My mates thought I was stingy, but the truth was I barely had enough to feed myself, let alone give to others. Their words were demeaning, but I endured it. They didn’t understand what was happening at home.

After SHS, I started teaching at her SHS, and by then our little sister had entered adolescence, and I was her teacher. My biggest fear was that she might mess up her life because I had seen firsthand how my brothers treated other girls. I was convinced that being strict and hostile would protect her. My elder brothers joined me in this approach. We were hard on her. We wanted to know everything happening in her life and couldn’t understand why Mum was so lenient with her but hard on us boys.

One vacation, she wasn’t home by 9pm. I called her, and she said she was at the roadside. I went there, waited ten minutes, and saw her running from town. She claimed she had gone to church; it sounded like a big fat lie, so I slapped her right there. My younger brother backed me. Naturally, she gave me attitude for days and cried about it, but I didn’t mind. I was her elder brother and thought I was doing the right thing.

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Later on, I realized that fear had driven me. I was scared she would be treated the way my brothers treated other girls. That fear and the realization of it changed me. I chose love and friendliness instead. I started praying for her, asking God to deliver her from wicked and unreasonable men. I began treating women with respect because I wanted my sister to be respected too.

Today, we’re close. She’s always in my DM, teasing and laughing. We talk about life, family, and the future. Our family is the happiest in our extended family. We don’t have much, but by God’s grace, we succeed in whatever we set our minds to. We call our parents by their first names, and they respond with joy. I started it, and it’s one of the most beautiful things in our home. Our WhatsApp group is full of love, laughter, and growth. I started posting childhood pictures, and whoever’s photo gets posted becomes the target of jokes for the day.

I’m still the “troublesome” one. They call me “Osofo, ɛtɔda wo ha adwen dodo”, meaning “Pastor, sometimes you cause too much trouble.” But I believe I’m just putting things in order. They call me to discuss plans, and I always contribute with joy.

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My sister hypes me on her status, and that hype usually means I have to send her money. She just completed tertiary education and plans to further it. We recently talked about her relationship. My main question was, “I hope he treats you well?” She said yes, and I felt peace. But I added, “Tell him if he messes up, I’ll organise the boys and we’ll come for him. He should know you have the men.” We laughed. I told her to bring him for assessment. She said not yet.

She and my girlfriend talk often. I just watch them do their “konkonsa”. I’m planning an outing with her to apologise for the times I wasn’t kind. Not because I hated her, but because I was scared. I’ll tell her I love and respect her deeply.

I want to secure a good job, marry, and settle down. I want to be a good husband and father because I know my sister will also be someone’s wife, and she deserves to be treated well.

I mentioned her in my first-degree project and my master’s thesis. I’m planning to dedicate another programme to her. She deserves it. The only girl among five boys: it wasn’t easy. I still pray for her.

God answers prayers. And my sister is one of them.

—Jnr

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