In changing times, it’s time to change the age-old system

My 14-year-old son recently reaped the rewards of his two-year saving goal. He bought himself a gaming computer. He’d grown tired of the previous item he saved for, an Xbox 1.

Our deal with him is: if you’d like a big-ticket item, you have to save at least 50 per cent or very close to it, and we’ll add the rest.

This is a far cry from the financial literacy I was taught. I’m gobsmacked when I realise what a good team my husband and I make when it comes to teaching our son financial responsibility.

Thomas has a bank account, loves earning interest, and would rather go hungry than spend his own money. Our way of doing things means he has enough time to think about his purchase and decide against it.

He is the complete opposite of me when it comes to financial matters. But in my defence, I didn’t have the financial education he has, and I have to pay black tax.

As one of the more educated, and therefore higher earners, I’m one of the cousins the older generations look at to supplement their meagre state grant.

After decades of economic injustice and inequality, these are the people in my family who, through no fault of their own, were denied access to a decent education and economic opportunities. Having to assist extended family financially was definitely not on my being-an-adult vision board.

Saying no to extended family, who are desperately struggling to keep their heads above water, was never an option for me. But it can be tricky to navigate the delicate balance between my financial responsibilities and assisting family when and where I can. There will always be a desperate call or please-call-me just as I think I’m on track.

After losing my flat in my 20s and running up so much bad credit because I wanted to help everyone in the family, I had to start all over in my 30s. I promised never to allow myself to give more than I am able to.

It was a long claw back to a healthy credit score and prioritising my financial responsibilities.

I’m mostly happy to help my family, but due to COVID-19, the need has just become so great that I’ve been struggling to keep up. I’m really feeling the weight of my extended family’s expectations.

Breaking the news that I’m no longer able to help out as much because of the rising costs of just about everything has been so difficult.

I was fortunate not to lose my job during the COVID lockdowns, but with no increase in salary for two years, I’ve had to tighten my belt.

No amount of planning can prepare you for the funerals you have to help out with. Or the stationery, uniform, and school transport emergencies. Or the emergency doctor visits and running out of food or electricity during the month.

So how do you make your monthly budget work, as well as helping with all manner of family emergencies? Move house and change phone numbers? Ghost and block them? As tempting as it sounds, no.

What I’ve had to do is set firm boundaries. I’ve had to initiate awkward conversations with my aunts and uncles. Not the easiest thing for a brown child to do with their elders.

We were raised to never backchat, question, or discuss grown-up things (sex or money) with our elders.

I had to let my elders know that as much as I appreciate them helping to raise my parents and me, I have my own family and financial responsibilities now. My husband and son have to be on top of my list of financial responsibilities. My salary can only stretch that far.

I’m determined to save my son from having to pay black tax, so I’m saving as much as I can for my retirement and future. Generational poverty has to stop with me. My son and his kids will not have the burden of looking after us and other extended family.

As for the aunts and uncles, I have been giving them tough love and lessons on how to budget. For example, if your only income is a government grant, Aunty, you cannot give a 10th to your pastor before buying food and electricity.

Also, you can wear the same few hats. There really is no need to have a new hat for every funeral, wedding, Easter and Christmas!

And do you really need several funeral policies to fund the extravagant funeral you think you want? Here, I’d like to say thank you to Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu for showing our elders how it can be done with his minimalist funeral he requested. Does it really make sense to spend R80 000 on a box for your body to decompose in?

It will be a long journey, I know, to get my elders to work smarter with the money they have and to eventually not have them depend on me as much. But if I don’t enforce my new boundaries, there’s the danger of me growing resentful and alienating my family.

Even though my elders aren’t the blank canvas my son is, I’ve been sharing the lessons I’ve been teaching him. They’re impressed with his determination to go without small ‘instant gratification’ things for months, sometimes years, in order to get something big.

Here’s to a year with firm boundaries and more financial freedom for my elders, even if it means having really awkward conversations about where my financial responsibility lies.