Sometimes…actually, most of the time I am extremely grateful to be the last-born in my family.
Because in African families, being the last-born comes with benefits: fewer majukumu ya kifamilia, less pressure to make major family decisions and, thankfully, fewer people calling you because “we need your opinion on this important family matter.”
I still sing the ABCs in my head to remember which letter comes after G. Why are you giving me a family crisis to solve?
Financially, being last-born also means I can still ask my parents and older siblings for help here and there.
And before anyone judges me, I did not bring myself into this world.
They planned me.
For five whole years.
So technically, the family had time to budget.
But being the last-born has also given me a front-row seat to the financial expectations placed on first-borns and only children.
I have friends who get their first proper jobs and, barely three weeks later, are already paying for younger siblings’ uniforms, school contributions and household expenses.
Three weeks!
The poor girl is still figuring out her payslip, and the family has already promoted her to Minister of Finance.
And the requests can be spectacular.
Suddenly, Mjomba's Dad iPhone 14 is “not communicating properly", so apparently an upgrade is now a family emergency.
Really?
Shangazi’s daughter’s neighbour swallowed a fork, and somehow the contribution WhatsApp group has your number.
Someone’s cousin wants capital for a business they have not even explained properly.
A younger sibling needs new shoes that are trending.
Then someone remembers there is a wedding contribution due on Saturday.
And somehow, because you have a job, all roads lead to your bank account.
I would ask my friends, genuinely: Why?
Why would your family ask you to take on all this when you have just started working and are still trying to sort out your own rent, transport, savings and life?
Sometimes I tell them, "Just say sina.”
And then I watch their jaws drop.
Because apparently “I don't have money” can be interpreted as “I have money, I just don't love you enough.”
But there comes a point when a person stops working for their own needs and starts working for the needs of the entire family.
I have always admired my man’s ability to support his family and take care of his younger siblings. There is something beautiful about being able to say, “I've got you.”
But even generosity has a limit.
Because who supports the person who is always supporting everyone?
A young person constantly sending money home may have very little left for savings, investments, education, housing or building their own future.
Who will support them when they eventually need help?
Family support is important. Sometimes it is necessary. Sometimes it is simply love expressed through money.
But it should not become a lifetime subscription.
You can love your family and still say sina.
You can help when you can without becoming everyone's emergency fund.
Because there is nothing noble about becoming financially unstable while trying to prove you are the responsible one.
So yes, love your family. Show up. Help when you genuinely can.
But please remember… your salary is not a family WhatsApp group. Everyone does not get to request something from it.
