Òyì nke e mepụtara

My brother dumped his kids on my porch and texted, “Thanks for watching them again.” I immediately smiled and dialed 911 because this time I wasn’t home. I was sitting at the airport watching it all through my doorbell camera, three kids in pajamas standing outside in the cold while his car drove off. This wasn’t new. For months, he’d been dropping them off without asking, acting like I was free childcare just because I worked from home. I told him weeks in advance I had a flight that morning, t