Youssef, a very close friend of mine and also my neighbour for seventeen years now, one day asked me whether or not charity really begins at home. I was instantly at a loss for words at his mysterious question, for I did not yet know what made him pose it. Frankly, I had always believed in this quote, but my faithful friend’s question made me reconsider it.
At the time, I very well knew that most of Yousse’s family members were rich, and half of them even owned some companies based in Italy. During my stay with him in the same neighbourhood, I never doubted the fact that his rich uncles abroad did not provide some financial help for him and his mother. They should in fact have done so since his father ‘s death a few weeks ago.
I never took his problem seriously for some time untill one day when I learnt that one of his cousins frequently spent some money helping local companies whose aim was organizing football matches and festivals. I could hardly believe that, what a pity ! I once told Youssef. The crux of the matter was that Youssef was in dire need of money to provide himself with food and good schooling. And he felt too ashamed to ask his cousin for a hand. He once told me that this cousin gave him little money from time to time, but it was never enough. When I inquired about the sum, Youssef said that it was the same as that given to the poor.
‘ What a pity !’ I said sympathetically.
‘ It is so unkind of him, ‘ replied Youssef.
After much inquiry into Youssef’s situation and with the help of the cousin’s friends, I found out that his cousin had never been on good terms with Youssef’s father. Some said that the latter owe his cousin some money. The father’s death prevented his cousin from obtaining back the money. And what was worse was that the cousin began to loathe Youssef for all that his father did. Meanwhile it was well known that it was not only his cousin who felt hatred for my friend, but all his paternal relatives as well. Poor Youssef and his mother were not to blame at all, for they did not do anything bad to their relatives.
For me, it was also so queer to hear that the cousin’s aim behind giving help to those companies was mainly to berate Youssef and take revenge on his father. I learnt this only from some close friends of the cousin, but never dared to tell Youssef about it. ‘How could such people be so cruel to behave like this ? ‘ I once wondered. Oddly enough, this cousin sometimes invited some personages in the village to lunch, but never Youssef.
Still worse was the fact that his paternal aunt whom he respected so much favoured his cousins over him simply because Yousse was poor and the other cousins rich. She treated them so differently even though they should all be the same to her as her cousins. Every time she paid her relatives a visit, she always chose to stay with them except Youssef to whom she said only a hello. I had tried as much as possible to gather some information about Youssef’s family so as to answer his question to the fullest one day.
As Youssef was one day talking to his mother about their current misery his father incured upon themselves, she angrily replied that his father was not the only cause. She told him that when he was a kid, his cousins used to make fun of his playthings and of his clothing and the type of foodstuffs she used to feed him. She also stressed that his cousins’ parents never prevented their kids from behaving in this manner. This meant, she cried, that they always bore a grudge against us before his father’s death.
At last, Youssef knew everything about his family; he never expected any help from them from that moment on. After a certain period of time, I met him by chance while going to university. His face grew more cheerful and I was really curious to know why, but I did not ask him. We talked for some time about our studies, and as we were going to leave each other, I intervened to ask him :
‘ Does charity begin at home? ’ I asked curiously.
‘ Oh, I suppose so. But sometimes it begins next door, especially for me, ‘ replied Youssef.
Omar BIHMIDINE
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