ConfessionsAnonymous

28 Sept 3 min read

I Helped Everyone Until I Became the One Who Needed Help

I am a woman in my late 30s living in Ajah, and for most of my adult life, I was the person everyone depended on. I owned a thriving drinks and provisions business, and whether it was a cousin needing school fees, a neighbour struggling with rent, or a church member looking for financial support, I was always willing to help. People often called me "Mama Helper" because I hardly said no to anyone. When I met my husband, life seemed to fall into place. We worked hard, saved together, and gradually built a comfortable life. Every December, our compound was full of visitors. During weddings, naming ceremonies, and family meetings, we were always among those contributing money. People praised us for being generous, and I honestly believed we had built strong relationships that would last forever. The challenge started when we began trying to have children. At first, we brushed off the questions from family members. But as the years passed, the pressure increased. Every village meeting, every family gathering, and every church programme came with comments about when we would carry our own baby. Some aunties even suggested different prayer houses and prophets for us to visit. We spent a lot of money moving from one hospital to another. We attended vigils, fasting programmes, and counselling sessions. While dealing with that emotional burden, my business started suffering. The cost of goods increased, customers reduced, and several people who owed me money refused to pay back. Before long, I found myself dipping into my savings just to stay afloat. For the first time in my life, I needed help. I reached out to some of the same people I had supported over the years. One person stopped answering my calls. Another promised to send something and never did. Some people who used to sit in my house every weekend suddenly became too busy to visit. It felt like the moment my pocket became empty, I also became invisible. The stress followed me home. My husband was also feeling the pressure, and small disagreements started turning into serious arguments. There were nights when NEPA would take light, we would sit in darkness, and both of us would worry about bills, debts, and our future. Sometimes I cried myself to sleep because I could not understand why life had changed so quickly. One day after church, I sat alone in my car and broke down completely. I realized that for years, I had been carrying other people's burdens while neglecting my own emotional well-being. I had spent so much time being strong for everyone that I never learned how to ask for help. The painful truth was that many people loved what I could do for them, not who I was. That realization changed me. I stopped forcing relationships and started setting boundaries. I focused on rebuilding my business, strengthening my marriage, and protecting my peace. Some people called me proud because I was no longer available every time they needed something, but I no longer cared. I had learned an expensive lesson. Today, things are gradually improving. My business is picking up again, my husband and I are closer, and I have a much smaller circle of friends. Looking back, I now understand that being surrounded by people is not the same as having genuine support. Sometimes it takes hardship to reveal who truly values you beyond what you can offer them.