I am a 75-year-old retired retiree. I grew up in the village and now residing in Lusaka. In my early marriage years as a young lady, my elder brother took care of me and my family. In my family, am referring to myself, husband and children. He was based abroad in the UK and sent money to me every month. I was working in government, simple paying job but I dressed like royalty because I received clothes every year from my brother and I had a good relationship with my bank because I received pounds every month from my elderly brother and those days, I never used to touch my salary because my brother sent money to me every month end for up-keep. I rarely asked for his assistance but when there was need, like our mum being unwell or a funeral in a family that required me to travel outside Lusaka or just any other emergency that required funds.

I grew up in the village raised by a single mother. I was told my father died when I was three years old, I do not remember him at all. It was just me, my elder brother and mum. My mother struggled to raise us. She could not hunt animals as a woman but instead we had a garden by the river where she grew vegetables and tobacco. My mother had to catch fish, a job I learnt to do as well, if we were to change the relish. In those days, only men could catch fish and we would be the only females by the river in our tiny boat trying to catch fish and a laughing-stock of the village. When all this was happening, my brother was away at school, it wasn’t boarding school but the white headteacher took him in due to the long distance he used to travel to get to school. Our village was very far from the nearest secondary school and my brother had spent a whole year in the village before enrolling in school because my mother had no money to use to send him to school.

In all this while, I was enrolled at the nearest school and always on hand to help my mother with farming. I remember some uncles trying to force my mother to remarry but she refused and so they vowed to never help her with anything. They actually used to mock her for allowing her son to go away for school instead of helping her out. At a point when I qualified to go what you call grade 10, it meant me travelling many miles to access a secondary school and my mother had no money to support both me and my brother. She sat me down and explained her predicament and that we had to support my brother who was in a higher grade and as a man so that he will look after us when he was done. When my brother came back for school holidays and asked why I wasn’t going to school, mum explained the sacrifice that we had to make, she could only afford to sponsor one child and he was the one who needed to complete school. My brother promised he would take care of us after his completion of school.

My brother did pass and was among the few selected to pursue studies at UNZA where he was later on selected to train as a staff development fellow. He later went for further studies and years later settled abroad. My brother financially supported us and even when I got married and relocated to Lusaka. By that time, I had gotten my mother to live with her and to be honest, I do not know what reasons he used to give his wife for sending money monthly to me or if she even knew but all I know and grateful for is that he did support us and always mentioned that he did not want his mother to suffer ever again or his sister to stress. The financial support he used to send made me able to build our first house because my husband and I were able to save our salaries, buy a plot and build, stress free. We were landlords in our early marriage years, something that was not common back then.

Coming back to the black tax issue, whom was I to turn to when need arose if not for my one and only brother that mother and I made sacrifices for? I went fishing, grew tobacco, worked in other people’s fields for my brother to get an education and shouldn’t I turn to him for help? I do not know other families, but our bond meant we only had each other to turn to. Even after the demise of our mother, my brother (may his soul rest in peace), continued to support me financially, materially and emotionally. All my children are grown up, married have given me grandchildren and I have taught them the importance of family and being there for each other. If we make strong family bonds, people will not see anything wrong with assisting each other financially. I tell my children to help the one who doesn’t seem to be doing so well so that he or she can be independent, that’s what family is for. Thank you.

Aka Monde,

My name is Mutinta and after reading your article, I thought I share my story. I have an elder brother who is a CEO somewhere. I remember calling him once to assist me with an old pressing iron as mine had malfunctioned. The words he said to me scarred me, he said, “every time my relatives call it’s to ask for help, what sort of a family are we?”

I cut the line and cried for a good one hour and I afterwards I sent him a text that read, “my brother, am sorry if we only call when we need help from you, most of the times when we call to greet you, we receive messages which say, please text am in a meeting and you know so I await for an opportunity to call back but sadly you hardly return calls except if you hear there is a funeral and you want to send your contribution through me. Anyway, when I called to ask for an old pressing iron, I had no mealie meal in my house, my cooking oil is gone, no sugar and only a container of tap water in my fridge and not even ma buns in my kitchen and my Zesco units are at 9. I chose to ask for a pressing iron because I cannot afford to go for work looking like a mad woman and I know that at work, there are friends who have become like family that can even lend me a 300 or 500 for me to buy a few groceries and push the days. I didn’t mention my other pressing needs due to my dignity as a human being and please forgive me for asking help from you my brother.”