Burn it to the ground

I can’t believe I got to say it. I had an interesting conversation with my mum yesterday. I was talking about relationships, and she asked me if I’d marry someone from Sierra Leone, I said NO. In an affirmative, assertive way. Why? I was sold the dream of “the land of milk and honey” and that there was a magical “back home” and that my mother’s family are good people.'

I said no because I didn’t want that for my children.

I finally, so effortlessly and easily said if her family snubbed my children…ever… I would… “burn that city to the ground without hesitation.”

I meant that.

I mean that.

I will always mean that.

And I am proud that I said it. I didn’t say it in a cruel way. I didn’t say it with malice. I said it as a a matter of fact. To the point she didn’t react too much about saying I would burn the capital city of a country to embers, and its 5 million people for the sake of my children.

Because I really meant that. And they really did deserve that and I am one ember away at all times from doing it.

I once again explained the “dad died and they didn’t call me” argument. I.e. I wasn’t important in my own right, I also wasn’t important as an attache of my mother and still they decided, each in there own way to do nothing. Absolutely nothing to care for me.

Remember when someone you love is going through a hard time, you are meant to care for them. And there was, a raft of things they couldn’t do. But there were some things they could do. Call, text. email. “you can reach me by jet plane….I don’t care how you get here, just get here if you can…” I was focused on what they could do. It is not for me to figure out what they could do. It was for them to do it. But they did nothing.

Remember what I wanted was care.

What I got was mass compliance and even then it wasn’t universal. My mum’s sister’s called. My mum’s older brother called. My mum’s twin brother and her younger brother didn’t call. My mum’s younger brother’s wife called. But he didn’t. The blood relative didn’t. So even when he was cussed out. He didn’t do it. Because he didn’t care. The consequences weren’t for him. He didn’t love me, he doesn’t love me and he never will. His actions belied it. And it doesn’t matter. Because I have removed myself from believing these people are good people, or that they love me. I do whatever makes me happy, but they don’t make me happy and I don’t want my kids growing up with the “hope” that that family would ever act like a real family or if anything happened to me that any kindness or protection would be extended to them because it wouldn’t. I don’t want them growing up with that hope then being extinguished, or having ties to people that aren’t real.

So rather than a hair on my children’s head be harmed emotionally, I would burn that city to the ground.

I said, it, I meant it, and if that family of hers try me. I’ll do it.

Grace and Courage.

Annetta Mother Smith.