My own mother.
I started sending her money since I was in 200 level. First it was ₦20k for feeding, then rent, then hospital bills when she had malaria. As soon as I got a decent job after NYSC, it became regular, ₦150k–₦200k every month without fail. I paid for her shop renovation, bought her a fridge, generator, even cleared her debt with one Alhaji. Last year I surprised her with ₦1.2 million to finish her house in the village. I was proud. The same week she called me: “Is this all? Your mates are building mansions for their mothers. You’re just doing small small.” I was shocked. But I kept quiet and continued. Two months ago she needed money for a church program. I sent ₦350k. She collected it, posted pictures on WhatsApp status with captions like “God bless those who remember their mother” but never mentioned my name once. Then she called me the next day complaining that the money was “not enough for the kind of party she wanted.”
The day that broke me? I overheard her telling my aunty on the phone: “That my son, he’s very stingy. After all I suffered for him, he’s giving me peanuts.” Peanuts? I still send money because she’s my mother… but damn. The most ungrateful person I’ve ever supported is the woman that gave birth to me.