My husband’s elder sister came to spend a few weeks with us and never went back. When she said she was coming to live with us, I objected. I even told my husband to help her rent a place of her own, but he said he didn’t have that kind of money to spend on his sister, so we should allow her to stay with us for a few weeks.

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A few weeks turned into months, and now it’s almost a year since she came to live with us. The fact that she lives with us and is occupying a room our kids should have occupied doesn’t hurt me as much as the things she does around here.

She doesn’t help with anything around here. My kids are not her responsibility, and what we eat or do around here doesn’t concern her. She wakes up, bathes, and steps out, or she eats and sleeps. But guess what she eats when she’s hungry? She eats what I’d spent the whole day cooking. Before she came, I cooked for the week, but since she moved in, food meant for the whole week only lasts a couple of days, and I have to be in the kitchen again.

I told my husband to restrict her. “I understand if she won’t help with meal preparation, but she can’t eat what I’d spent forever cooking and pretend she owns this place.”

My husband, as usual, asked for patience and told me he would talk to her. Nothing changed. She still went around doing what pleased her.

I needed help with the kids. I had to go to work on a Saturday, and my husband was out of town. For the first time, I asked for her help. “Could you please watch over the kids for me? I’m only doing a half day, so by 1 p.m. I should be home.” She responded, “Oh, then you should have told me earlier. I’m just about stepping out for something important.”

I drove my kids to my mom’s place before I went to work. I was very late for work, so I had to do extra hours. On my way home, I had to go to my mom’s place and pick the kids up before going to the house. I got home and met her with a man seated in the hall, eating what I’d cooked and placed in the fridge.

When she saw me, she welcomed me home as if I was the visitor. She introduced the guy to me as Maxwell, her boyfriend. I only nodded and pulled the kids along. I called my husband and complained bitterly to him. Again, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m coming tomorrow, and I will give her a piece of my mind.”

I knew he wasn’t going to do it, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He came. He acted like everything was cool and didn’t say anything to his sister. “You said you would, so why are you laughing and talking as if what she did was right?”

He got angry. He said, “You can’t force me to say what I already want to say. Leave me to handle it in my own way.”

To make matters worse, a couple of days later, she brought the guy home to introduce him to my husband as her new boyfriend. My husband sat there, entertained the guy, and acted as if I hadn’t told him anything about the first time the guy came around. She entered her room with the guy, then came to the fridge and picked up a drink my husband had bought for me when he was coming back.

I got up to stop her, but my husband pulled me back to sit down. “I bought it,” he said. “I will buy you another one. Let her have it.”

I wasn’t going to have it. I told him if he didn’t find a place for his sister in the next few weeks, everything was going to blow up in his face, and he wouldn’t have to blame me. A few days later, he came to tell me he had spoken to his sister and she had promised she was looking for a place and would leave soon.

I didn’t believe him. This was a woman who wasn’t working. All she did was sleep and eat what she thought her brother was providing. In our home, we shared financial responsibilities, and most of the things she thought her brother bought actually came from me.

There was huge tension between us, and I made sure she knew I didn’t like the fact that she was staying with us. One day she picked a drink from the fridge, and I told her to put it back. She reported me to my husband, and my husband had the audacity to talk to me about it. “I’ve told you a million times to talk to your sister, and you never did. She asked you once to talk to me, and you ran to tell me? On whose side are you?”

I listened to him preach peace and harmony while rage was burning in my heart. She disappeared for four days, and those days were the best days of my life in that house. I prayed she would come back, pack, and leave, but she came back on a Monday evening, walked into the kitchen, saw me cooking, and walked away.

My husband was seated in the hall with the kids. I finished cooking, served the kids and my husband, and went to bathe. I came back to see her eating and she had poured herself a drink to go with it. I was calm. I walked to her, took the food from her, and carried the drink away too. She screamed, “Oh!” I responded, “They didn’t serve food where you went to spend those days? No, you’re not going to eat this.”

My husband got up. I told him, “Not this time. I told you this woman has to leave this house, but you pretend you don’t hear. She’s not going to eat this food, and she’s leaving tomorrow or else I will pack her things out.”

I locked the kitchen and went inside. See, I’m a very peaceful person. Had it not been for my sister-in-law, I wouldn’t have known I had that side of me. I heard them talking. She was angry, shouting at the top of her voice, “Who does she think she is? Does she think I have no place to live?”

I came out of the room to respond. “I know you have a place to live. You were not here for four days, so definitely there’s a place for you. So why are you back? Why don’t you go back and leave your brother alone?” She responded, “You think I didn’t know you before you married my brother? You have a life now, so you think everyone is miserable like you.”

All I said was, “When I was your age, I was in my husband’s house. What stops you from doing the same?”

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That ended the fight. My husband was angry for days, but guess what? After that fight, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. I walked freely, and for a very long time, I could afford to sing joyful songs while working around the house. When I was out, she stayed inside. We were living in the same house but didn’t see each other for days. And oh, I locked the kitchen whenever I left for work.

A month later, she was gone. She didn’t rent a place or go to live with her boyfriend. She went back home to live in her father’s house. While I was happy for the win, my husband was still brooding. It didn’t bother me as long as there was no intruder in my house. Now I have peace. My kids have their own room. There’s a huge space that feels as though an elephant left the room and gave us all that extra space.

—Maabena

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