How my brother’s illness made me invisible

At the age of 7, Meghane learned that her 5-year-old brother had leukemia. Since the required treatment was unavailable in Rodrigues, where they lived, her mother moved to Mauritius with her brother for treatment. Left in the care of her grandparents, Meghane suffered an immense sense of abandonment and invisibility. Years later, her university studies in Mauritius would further distance her from her family. Until she decided to speak her heart.

I was only a child when I knew the spotlight would never be on me. I was under ten when my childhood shifted to adulthood; I was still a child when I started caring about a child. I am 22 and it is only now that I heal from living in my sibling’s shadow.

I have a brother 2 years younger than me and the latter was diagnosed with leukemia when he was only 5. Lacking adequate medical care in Rodrigues, my brother and mother needed to go abroad for my brother’s treatment. From then on, I was no longer Meghane, but my brother’s sister. I had to stay with my dad in the country. The latter was also absent. Fully taken up by his work, my dad left me with my grandparents who took care of me. 

For 2 years, it was all about my brother, which is logical as he was sick. However I was just a child, crying every day to have my brother back. I was just a child who was looking for someone to ask me, “how are you sweetheart?”  I did my best in everything I undertook; sport, school, but the spotlight was not mine anymore and I do not remember if it ever was mine once. 

For 2 years, I was not told what was going on, all I saw was my Mama crying on the phone, my brother losing his hair, his skin whitening and swelling. I still remember my brother getting his medicine injected morning and night. I was traumatized and the only escape I had was watching Barbie and dreaming of my own life in the dream house.

Then my brother was cured. I felt so happy to see him and my mother again. Not via a screen, but here with me. I still remember that day, I went to school but my mind was at the airport. Everyone knew this was a special day for me. Although my brother was still in the spotlight, the excitement overcame that feeling of invisibility. I had a light heart. After school I needed to go to tuition before going to meet my relatives at the airport, but I was so excited my grandma decided to let me skip tuition on that day. 

It was then time to meet Mama and my brother again. It was all about happy tears, laughter and hugs. But the dream didn’t last long. It was still all about him. Family and friends visited frequently. Everything he did was a great achievement. Meanwhile I was there, spectator in a world in which I did not belong anymore. Time went along, and this feeling of invisibility turned into a feeling of unworthiness. I felt like everything I did was never enough to meet the standards of my parents compared to my brother. I felt so much pressure. I needed to take care of everyone but who was taking care of me?

Many years later, I came to university in Mauritius. I had a taste of freedom, of letting go and not caring. Far from my family, the pressure was still present, but it was easier to handle. When I felt overwhelmed, I did not call them. I was fleeing the pressure and prioritizing my mental health.  However, this created more ambiguity and on their side my parents were feeling left behind by their daughter. Days went along and the tension was at its peak.

One day, on my way to school, I received a text message from my mom. It was heartbreaking, she wrote all her feelings, how she felt abandoned by her kids. All I saw was complaints and selfishness from her as they did not know how I felt all these years. However, was I dealing with it the right way? Two days later, I decided to reply. I wrote everything, what I felt, what I did not appreciate. It was so good to let all that go. 

On Saturday, it was cold and slightly raining. My dad sent me a text message saying someone called Mr. Mokul was waiting for me downstairs. When I went down, I saw… my father. He had flown from Rodrigues to come see me. I ran into his arms. No jacket, no raincoat. My daddy was here, and nothing felt warmer than that. We sat in the living room, and he explained that his sudden visit was to talk about the tension between us and the text I sent. He talked, I listened, I talked, I cried and he listened.  It felt like emptying the bottle filled with negative emotions, pressure, anger ….

After the long, but well-needed conversation, it was time for my dad to go. We took a picture and said goodbye with the warmest hug we ever had. My heart has never been so light.

Meghane, 22 years old