In every family, there's always that one relative who wears a mask of righteousness while hiding a multitude of sins behind closed doors. In the Ogunlade family, that relative was none other than Auntie Funke.
Auntie Funke was the epitome of piety, her voice dripping with sanctimony as she dispensed advice on everything from morality to manners. With her Bible clutched firmly in hand and a self-righteous glint in her eye, she prided herself on being the family's moral compass, the beacon of virtue in a sea of sinners.
But beneath Auntie Funke's veneer of righteousness lay a tangled web of deception and hypocrisy that would make even the most seasoned politician blush. For all her talk of living a holy life, she was the master of the double standard, quick to judge others for their perceived transgressions while conveniently turning a blind eye to her own.
From the pulpit of her self-righteousness, Auntie Funke preached the gospel of morality, admonishing her relatives for their supposed shortcomings with all the fervor of a hellfire preacher. Whether it was gossiping about a cousin's wayward behavior or chastising a sibling for their questionable life choices, she never missed an opportunity to remind everyone of their moral failings.
"You know, dear, gossiping is a sin," Auntie Funke would say, her voice dripping with faux concern. "We must strive to live our lives in accordance with God's word, free from the shackles of sin."
But even as she preached about the evils of gossip, Auntie Funke was often the first to spread rumors and half-truths about her own family members, delighting in the opportunity to cast judgment from her self-appointed pedestal of righteousness.
And it wasn't just gossip that Auntie Funke indulged in; her hypocrisy knew no bounds when it came to matters of personal conduct as well. Despite her claims of moral superiority, she was often caught engaging in behavior that would make a sailor blush, from sneaking cigarettes behind the church to indulging in the occasional glass of wine when she thought no one was looking.
"Oh, this?" Auntie Funke would say, her voice laced with false modesty as she gestured towards the cigarette dangling from her fingers. "It's just a little stress relief, dear. Surely God will forgive me for such a minor indiscretion."
But it wasn't just Auntie Funke's penchant for hypocrisy that rankled her relatives; it was her refusal to acknowledge her own shortcomings that grated on their nerves. No matter how many times she was called out for her double standards, she remained stubbornly defiant, clinging to her facade of righteousness like a drowning woman clutching at a life raft.
"You know, dear, it's not our place to judge others," Auntie Funke would say, her tone dripping with irony as she leveled a judgmental gaze at her relatives. "We must strive to live our lives with humility and grace, free from the poison of hypocrisy."
And yet, for all her faults and her glaring hypocrisy, there was a certain charm to Auntie Funke that her relatives couldn't deny. Beneath the layers of sanctimony and self-righteousness lay a woman who simply wanted to be loved and accepted for who she was, flaws and all.
"Despite her faults, Auntie Funke is still family," they would say, shaking their heads in bemusement as they watched her pontificate from her moral high ground. "And as frustrating as she can be, we wouldn't have her any other way."
And so, the Ogunlade family learned to accept Auntie Funke for who she was, flaws and all, knowing that beneath her mask of righteousness lay a woman who was just as human as the rest of them. For better or for worse, she was their hypocritical auntie, and they wouldn't have her any other way.
