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I have an uncle who has lived in Japan for as long as I can remember.
During my undergraduate years, while working late in a study space, my laptop suddenly died. My heart sank. I was completely broke, and there was no one else I could turn to.
My father had passed away, and I couldn’t bring myself to burden my mother.
With no other options, I decided to reach out to my uncle. I took my time and wrote him a thoughtful, respectful message.
I wasn’t begging for money. I was asking for guidance — a way forward, some advice from someone I believed had made it.
I kept refreshing my phone for hours, anxiously waiting for his reply.
When the notification finally came, his response was just two words:
“Really?”
That was it.
After that day, his profile picture disappeared from my contacts. He became a ghost.
To this day, my mother believes we speak regularly.
I’ve never had the heart to tell her the truth.
That experience taught me a hard lesson: blood doesn’t always mean support. No matter how close the relation or how far they’ve “made it,” I’ll never put my hope or dependence on anyone abroad again.
NatureAwarenessNG@ntheg74138xx
@Preachare_1 Not at all,tell us more about them abeg
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