Many years ago people told me that I have a brother or I resembled him. Even though I have never met him.

My mother, who has gone to her eternal resting place; she is now part of the sands of time, never mentioned him to me.

But why not? Was she ashamed of him, or did she give him up for adoption? I cannot say. My family had so many hidden secrets one would swear it was like Fort Knox.  

Then someone gave me a photo of my brother when he was a baby and a much older one. I had the same smile like him the way he smiled. 

I stared at that photo for quite some time my mouth agape; I couldn’t believe it. The question arose: Where was he?

Then I decided it would be my life’s mission to search for him. Even though I was a successful businessman, I took time off because it really bothered me.

Weeks turned into months I searched all over and made numerous inquiries, but I always came up against this blank wall.

Many times I wanted to throw in the towel, but my fighting spirit wouldn’t allow that.

I had Hobsons Choice but to keep looking for him and close that chapter in my life.

In my mind, I thought: what if he was just as successful as me? Or what if he didn’t want to be found? That’s the bridge I will have to cross sooner or later.

Five years have passed on, but still no concrete answer. Then I left it for a while and began to concentrate on what matters to me.

Then one day someone called me, out the blue. I didn’t know that person or that voice that said they wanted to give me something.

I arranged to meet him somewhere, and he gave me three sheets of paper, and on that paper was my brother’s name.

Finally, a breakthrough, but my joy was very short-lived. He told me your brother was here.

I drove towards that place in silence; I came face to face with this massive prison. My heart sank to the very depths of the ocean.

Then I met him behind the thick glass window, and he told me everything.  I asked him why he was in there! He said he was in for a double murder and I should forget about him.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I left, and I never saw him again. Yes, he made his bed, and he must lie on it. After all, I  am not my brother’s keeper.  Or am I?