he Unwavering Call of Duty: Early Starts & Constant Errands
You know that feeling of just starting to truly enjoy your sleep, only to be jolted awake by a loud bang on the door, signaling your mum or dad is there to rouse you? Yes, that's a universal Nigerian childhood experience. My mum always recounted stories of how she and her brothers woke by 4 AM to fetch water, walking over 400 meters. For my brother and me, the routine started at 5:30 AM: fetch water, wash dishes, sweep the apartment, and be out the door for school before 8 AM. This wasn't an occasional chore; it was an everyday ritual. 😓
This sense of duty extended throughout the day, often manifesting in an endless stream of errands. I've been in situations where my mum called me from outside to get something from the fridge, even though she was barely 10 meters away. It made me wonder, "Was I born to suffer?" It's entirely possible to run more than twenty-five errands in a day, with at least fifteen feeling utterly unnecessary.
The Pillars of Protocol: Greetings and Respect
I'm certainly not against salutations or exchanging gestures, but when it becomes a "do or die" affair, I start to raise an eyebrow. Growing up in Nigeria, you simply cannot forget to say "Good morning," "Good afternoon," "Good evening," or even "Welcome" to your elders—unless, of course, you wish to receive an "oven-baked slap." Most times, neglecting a greeting can lead to immediate judgment, categorizing you as disrespectful or an untrained child. This could be quite depressing, realizing you might accumulate "haters" simply for not greeting someone. 😞
This deep-seated emphasis on protocol extends to respect. As a young person in a Nigerian family, you're automatically expected to show the highest form of respect for older persons. You wouldn't dare sit with your parents when they have a guest unless explicitly invited; it's considered disrespectful, an assumption that you "intend to enjoy senior's jokes." And talking back to your parents? That's the swift beginning of a swollen face.
The Shadow of the Unknown: Fear and Restricted Relationships
Fear, unfortunately, is a major part of a Nigerian child's life, where everyone often sees the other as a suspect. You grow up hearing cautionary tales like, "Don't let anyone touch your head," "Don't collect anything she gives you," or "If an unknown person calls you, answer but run." We're often made to believe something sinister is lurking outside, waiting to harm us, which can leave children feeling timid, unaware, and perpetually afraid. Even Nollywood, our vibrant film industry, sometimes contributes to this by sending unclear or unsettling messages to children.
This fear often translates into tightly controlled relationships. As a young person in a Nigerian family, you're often not permitted to have any significant external relationships beyond your family. Involving yourself in any "outside" connection is often problematic. I remember a friend whose mum told another friend not to come to their house again simply because she didn't like how he looked—and these young persons were of the same gender! On several occasions, my own dad told my friends he didn't want to see them in our house, which genuinely left me friendless. I couldn't go to do assignments with friends or even attend birthday parties. Can someone imagine the chaos of them finding out you have a boyfriend? Hmm. I guess that's why many children learn to hide intimate things from their parents. But not to worry, if you reach 28 and aren't married, they're very able to refer you to a pastor for "deliverance."
Speaking of relationships, many Nigerian parents often overlook building a truly meaningful bond with their children. They place the bare minimum as the ultimate goal, often leading to children feeling more fear than love for their parents. This explains why when the child is older and has moved out, it becomes hard for parents to connect with their grown children, and the relationship can feel forced. There are some conversations that would be had, and I'd think, "Why are you telling me this? We're not close like that."
The Quest for Autonomy: Lack of Freedom & Harsh Punishment
If you intend to have things your way, kindly tell God to send you to another country aside from Nigeria, because, in Nigeria, there is no word called "Freedom."
You don't have the freedom to eat what you want but what your parents give to you. I beg you, don't attempt to tell them you can't finish your food; just eat it. You also can't wear what you want, but what they ask you to. Forget parties; the only things you're truly free to do are go to school and church, and of course, no sleepovers. Even your phone calls and messages are monitored.
When the word punishment is mentioned in a Nigerian child's context, rather than various means of correction, specific tools come to mind: PANKERE, BELT, WIRE, KOBOKO, PEPPER. I must say, the means of punishment used in Nigeria can be incredibly cruel. I've personally experienced torn skin, swollen body parts, and even bleeding from being "corrected." The sad truth is, you can't escape this part, because even if your parents are kind and correct you with love, you still have to go to school where teachers' hands are always itching to beat you. Trust me, I hate this part.
The Unspoken Contract: Payback
In Nigeria, children are often made to believe that once they mature, it becomes their responsibility to take care of their parents in all ramifications. The implicit reason for their upbringing, from this perspective, is often so that their parents won't suffer in old age. Some parents know their roles and expect just that, but others use emotional blackmail to get what they want. If you are unfortunate, they might make it your absolute responsibility to take care of them and your siblings, making the obligation feel forced and creating an unhealthy relationship.
Defense in Times of Need
On a brighter note, if you're the quiet type and people walk all over you, you're usually sure to have someone defend you within your family, especially when you're being bullied. I vividly remember my mum going to school with me to confront a teacher who kept eating my food, and after that scenario, the whole thing stopped. However, if you reported a case of being beaten by your mate to your parents, be prepared for an extra beating because their response would often be something like, "So, it's your mate that hit you and you cried, abi? Come on! Go and beat him back!"
Did I miss something, or does this resonate with your own experiences? Let me know in the comment section below!
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