No one sets out to outshine their twin. At least, Taiye didn’t. He never imagined that life would separate him and Kenny so deeply—two boys born just minutes apart, raised in the same home, fed with the same spoon, yet walking two completely different paths.
From the beginning, it was clear that Taiye was the academically gifted one. He had a sharp mind and a hunger for knowledge. Books excited him. He could read entire novels while others his age struggled through one page. Kenny, on the other hand, struggled in school. Words danced and twisted before his eyes until he was diagnosed with dyslexia.
But what Kenny couldn’t do in the classroom, he made up for on the field. He was fast, skilled and had a kind of energy that brought people to their feet. By the time they were in junior secondary school, Kenny had become captain of the football team. His talent caught attention and before long he had a scholarship and was traveling for tournaments. People whispered about a bright future ahead of him, maybe even professional football. But Kenny was never truly happy.
Despite the praise, the scholarships and the popularity with girls, there was always a cloud around him. Meanwhile, Taiye continued his quiet pursuit of excellence. He was the type of student that teachers used as an example. He represented the school in academic competitions and brought home awards. His achievements were framed on the walls of their home. He wasn’t flashy, but he was focused.
When Taiye gained admission to study law at a prestigious university, the whole family rejoiced. Everyone except Kenny. Taiye tried not to think much of it. He didn’t want to see jealousy where there should be brotherly pride. After all, Kenny had the charm, the looks, the football career and a world of opportunities at his feet. But something was wrong.
As the years passed, Taiye excelled. He graduated with top honors, went on to law school and became one of the most promising young lawyers in the country. He was known for his intelligence, his integrity and his unmatched dedication. His name began to appear in newspapers, on legal panels and even on TV as a commentator on legal matters. He was making his mark. Kenny, however, was sinking. His football dreams faded. He started drinking heavily, hanging out with the wrong crowd and experimenting with drugs. And so the big clubs stopped calling.
It became a pattern. Kenny would mess up—get arrested for fighting or caught with illegal substances and Taiye would show up at the police station, using his influence to get him out. Each time, Taiye hoped it would be the last. Each time, Kenny promised to change. But nothing ever changed. Taiye was worn out.
The final straw came when Kenny was caught up in a fraudulent scheme. It wasn’t just petty crime this time, it was serious and there was also talk of him serving time in prison. When Taiye confronted him, begging to understand why he kept throwing his life away, Kenny said something that shattered him.
“Well, I made up my mind to bring shame to you,” he said, coldly. “Since everyone keeps comparing us, since you’re the golden boy, I want them to remember you every time I fall. Let them say, ‘Isn’t that the brother of that big lawyer?’ I want your name dragged too.”
Taiye stood there in silence, stunned.
He had always loved Kenny. Defended him. Covered for him. Believed in him. But now, he was hearing that the person he had sacrificed for was deliberately trying to hurt him, to stain the image and reputation he had built with sweat and sleepless nights.
It wasn’t failure that had broken Kenny, it was bitterness and a hidden grudge. A silent war he had been fighting alone in his mind, thinking that his brother’s success was his failure.
Kenny’s mind worked in strange, broken ways. To most people, success was something to celebrate especially when it came from someone you loved. But to Kenny, Taiye’s success felt like an accusation. That no matter what he did, his twin brother would always be the one with the clean shirt, the proud parents and the respect of society. Somewhere along the line, Kenny resolved to make Taiye look bad.
“If I can’t shine, then I’ll throw dirt on your light,” he once muttered to himself.
In his twisted mind, every time he got into trouble, people would say, “That’s the lawyer’s brother.” And just like that, his disgrace would rub off on Taiye’s prestige. It didn’t matter if he was ruining his own life in the process. As long as it left a stain on Taiye’s name, it felt like a win.
He convinced himself that he was the victim. That he had been set up to fail while Taiye was born lucky. So he did foolish things — joined bad company, took drugs, scammed people — not because he didn’t know better but because he wanted to be the stain on his brother’s white robe. And in his messed-up head, that made sense.
Taiye was done.
He looked at his brother and made the hardest decision of his life. He wouldn’t come through this time. He wouldn’t fight or plead or pull strings. Kenny would have to face the consequences of his choices. He had reached the end of his strength.
Taiye knew now that love wasn’t enough to save someone who was determined to destroy themselves. He walked away from that conversation with a heavy heart not because he hated his brother but because he had finally accepted the truth: Kenny didn’t want to be saved.
And no one can help a man who enjoys his fall more than his rise.
