Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the wordpress-seo domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/bcm/src/dev/www/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121 Parents | Zikoko!
“Blame” is a strong word, but it best describes how I sometimes feel about my parents.
They’re the kind of people you’d call “new money”. Growing up, I heard several stories about how my dad would trek to school with the one pair of shoes he wore everywhere; school, church and when he had to follow his dad to the farm to harvest yams. My mum had a similar upbringing; she grew up in Lagos in those “face me I slap you” houses.
Education and sheer grit changed my father’s story and brought him the money and connections he didn’t have growing up. For him, that meant his children never had to struggle like he did. Coupled with the fact that his first child — me — came after almost six years of waiting, and the second child came after I turned 9, his “my children will never suffer” resolve quickly turned into spoiling.
I don’t remember ever wanting something and being told “no”. One time in primary school, a classmate refused to let me try on his new watch, so I complained to my mum at home and she made our house help go to the market to buy the same watch for me that evening.
I failed my mathematics exam once in JSS 3, but it never got to my results sheet because the teacher called my parents and told them about it. My score was too close to a D, and the teacher knew my parents wouldn’t like it. I don’t know what they discussed, but they gave me new exam sheets with another that contained the answers to rewrite it in my dad’s room. All I had to do was copy the answers in my handwriting. I got an A.
I’m not saying my parents didn’t teach me any values. They taught me to be kind and respectful, but I never really “struggled” or had to think about how to solve challenges. I just always knew mummy or daddy would handle it.
The first time I might’ve handled “adult” problems was in 2013. I was in my second year at a popular federal university. My parents only wanted me to attend that university because of the alumni network.
But one lecturer came to the class and started saying “A is for God, and B is for me”, so my parents decided it was best to transfer to a private university. Why did I need to stress over a lecturer who was famous for failing students?
It’s the same quest for an easier life that made me fake an illness to abandon NYSC camp in 2018 and has made it almost impossible for me to stay at one job for more than six months. I once walked out of a graduate internship because third mainland bridge traffic was stressing my life, and I wasn’t about the “waking up at 5 a.m.” life.
That’s when I manage to get jobs. Since 2019, I’ve had three jobs. It’s 2024, and I’ve been unemployed for seven months. There’s just something unappealing about convincing potential employers to “choose” you that makes the job search stressful for me.
I’m not idle, though. I try tech content creation sometimes as a hobby, but it takes a level of consistency that’s difficult to keep up with.
I’m a 28-year-old man, and I see the strides my mates are making, but I don’t feel the push to do more. I feel like I’m not living up to my potential. Specifically, I don’t know what path to take; I feel stuck. My best friend says I have classic “failure to launch” symptoms.
My parents don’t seem bothered, probably because they’ve already mapped out my future; my dad has real estate investments that will go to me after I get married. But I don’t even know if I’m interested in real estate or learning what it takes to manage it. I love my parents and enjoy a close relationship with my family. They support my lifestyle, and I’m grateful for that.
However, I think my struggle with a lack of ambition and feeling stuck is connected to how they raised me. What’s there to look forward to when I already have all I need?
I’d like to raise my future kids better. But I’m not even sure how to make sure they’re better adjusted, and that scares me more than I like to admit.
You’ll be a very strict, no-nonsense parent, but you’ll always make sure your children know how much you love them.
You got #{score}/#{total}
You’ll be too busy trying to survive Nigeria and provide for your children to actively participate in their life. It doesn’t mean you’ll be an absent parent, it just means you won’t be there all the time.
You got #{score}/#{total}
You’ll be a chill parent. Your children will be free to do whatever they want as long as no one stresses you out.
You got #{score}/#{total}
You believe that children are human beings and not goats. Your plan is to practice gentle parenting with your children until they become sensible members of society.
Children are blessings, or at least what most Nigerians hold on to as a reason to become parents or convince others to tow the parenthood line.
But why do people really have kids? Do prospective parents stop to consider why they want a child? I spoke to seven Nigerians and they shared how — and why — they decided to become parents.
I have kids because I love babies. It’s a weird reason, but I just love cuddling babies and inhaling their scent.
When I first got married, my husband and I agreed to wait a year before having kids so we’d get to know each other better. But I started getting baby fever after the first few months and “accidentally” got pregnant. I wasn’t prepared for how fast babies grow out of the cute infant stage and start scattering your house, though.
Baby fever hit again when my child was one year old, and I got pregnant again. Just like the last time, I loved the baby stage but I’ve realised it’s just a small reward for the years and years of raising them — which isn’t easy at all. I don’t know if I want to try for another one again.
Sola*, 25
I’m a single mum of a five-year-old. My baby daddy wanted me to get an abortion, and I refused. I was in uni when I got pregnant and wasn’t ready for a child, but killing an innocent child is a sin I didn’t want to add to my list of errors.
I love my son, but I sometimes wish I didn’t have him so early. I’ve lost jobs because he was always falling sick as a toddler and we were in and out of hospitals. It’s also tough providing for him without help. I feel like I’d have been able to achieve more and even give him more things if I’d done the right thing at the right time.
Samuel, 31
Having children was the logical next step after marriage. My wife and I didn’t discuss whether we wanted children or not; we just discussed how many we wanted to have, and we landed on three kids.
It was after we had our first baby two years ago that I actually started to think about why we even decided on three. We can have one more to give our child a sibling, but that’ll be it. I love children, but they’re stressful and expensive. There’s honestly no need to amass them like property.
Tunde, 29
I believe children are a commandment from God. The Bible says we should “go forth and multiply”, so I’ve always wanted a large family. Maybe it’s also because I was an only child. I only have one kid now, but my wife and I plan to have at least five. The only thing that might reduce that number is this economy.
Loveth*, 36
I haven’t really thought about why I have kids. I’m a Nigerian woman; having children has been like a given since I was a child myself. All I knew was that pregnancy before marriage was a big no. After marriage? Start pushing them out. I guess I just did that. I got married in 2009 and I have three kids. They’re all I know, and I love them.
Christy*, 28
I’ve always loved children. But it’s not just wanting to have one for the sake of it. I think it’s important to guide the next generation on the right path and children are the best way to do that. If more parents trained their children well, we wouldn’t have so many evil people today.
And it doesn’t even have to be your biological children. I have only one child and I intend to adopt more rather than go through pregnancy again. There are more than enough kids on earth already who need guidance.
Kunle*, 38
I think children are what makes a family a family. So, after marriage, the next thing was obviously children. My wife and I dealt with infertility for a while, but deciding to go without kids just wasn’t an option. It took six years after marriage, but we’re a proper family now.
Any young Nigerian who still lives with their parents must know that their definition of “We miss you” is really they miss the free unpaid labour and they miss stressing you.
It took several “Na me fuck up” moments for Gbemisola* to figure out her family’s game, but when she finally did, it was over for them. She opens up on how she avoids domestic labour by going anywhere but home during short breaks.
As Told To Adeyinka
As the third of five children (two boys and three girls), I never understood why my older siblings never came home during short breaks. I’ll hear my parents say the FG has declared a public holiday for Easter, Sallah etc., and a part of me would get excited about reuniting with my siblings. But they never showed up. I didn’t understand why until I also got into uni.
[ad]
I school in Osun state, and it’s not exactly an exciting place to be, especially when school isn’t in session. At first, I was always eager to return home. I was one of those students who’d make sure I travelled back to Lagos even if it was just a one-day public holiday. I just wanted to be at home and enjoy good food, light and all the comfort that came with being at home. I didn’t mind the extra chores as long as I was sha at home.
But during one of those breaks, I started to notice a pattern.
My younger brother and sister relaxed whenever I was around. They just stopped doing things around the house. They’ll stay in their rooms, visit friends and return late… basically make themselves scarce. If my parents needed something, I’d always end up attending to them since I was there. My mum also did less cooking when I was around. She’ll say, “(Gbemisola* mo ti miss spaghetti bolognese ati sandwich to ma nse yen”. (I’ve missed your spaghetti bolognese and sandwich recipes).
As someone who’s been described by my friends as a nurturer, I didn’t feel any way about all these. But anytime I went back to school, it never felt like I just got back from home. No memories of enjoyment, just flashes of what I cooked, errands I ran, and I was always tired AF.
The biggest women-only festival in Lagos is BACK. Get your tickets here for a day of fun, networking and partayyyyy
My friends would share how they went to the cinemas, all the fun things they got up to, and I’ll just have stories of what I cooked at home. It was during one of these trips that I had an epiphany and realised why my older siblings never came home for short breaks. They were running from my parents’ stress.
Omo, nobody told me to wise up.
In 2023, I think the only short break that took me home was Sallah and that was because I had a mission to steal meat. Even then, I only got to Lagos on the morning of Eid. My mum blew up my phone with calls the entire time, but I lied that I had stuff to do in school.
This year, I’ve not gone home since I got back from the Christmas/New Year break. When the FG declared Thursday a three-day public holiday, my mum was the first to break the news. “Gbemisola*, it’s three days, won’t you come home?” I told her we had a test on Friday and I needed to study.
It’s not like I enjoy staying in school during these breaks, but I’d rather be in my hostel watching films and reading novels than go home to do hard labour.
Navigating loss is never easy. No matter how old our parents get, we’re never really ready for when they’ll leave the earth. I was discussing this with a friend when they revealed their grandmother’s rather strange request: She didn’t want anyone to spend on medical bills if she ever became seriously ill.
Intrigued, I got on the phone with mama’s carer, and with her help, got mama (75) to share her reasons.
My children think old age has affected some parts of my brain, so I make sure to repeat the same statement at least once a month: You people should let me die if I ever fall terminally ill.
I’m 75 years old, and in my lifetime, I’ve seen friends and family members battle sicknesses for years. They pile up huge medical bills for their family, and eventually still die. The death that strengthened my resolve not to go the same route was my husband’s.
He died in 2018 at 71, and he was in and out of the hospital for four years before that.
His health battle started with a mini-stroke in 2014. He was admitted, and doctors said, “Oh. Thank God, it’s nothing serious.” That was until they found cancer in his chest during routine scans. Again, they said it wasn’t too serious because it hadn’t advanced much yet.
A year and several chemotherapy sessions later, the doctors had changed mouth. Something about the tumours moving to other body parts. My children gathered money and took him overseas for better treatment. No one told me how much it cost, but I could see in their eyes that they were stretched thin financially and emotionally.
About three years after the initial diagnosis, my husband was declared cancer-free. We did thanksgiving at church and even gave away food items to less privileged people in gratitude.
Six months later, my husband slumped. The cancer was back, and it caused his kidneys to fail. He had to include dialysis to his long list of medical procedures. This time, my children came to ask me if their father had any money saved up somewhere.
He passed away soon after. I was heartbroken. After all we went through, it seemed like we only delayed the inevitable. I don’t want to put my children through the same thing again.
So, I’ve decided I’ll die at home. I take blood pressure medication and pain relievers for my arthritis, but if I ever develop a terminal illness or a sickness that requires long-term treatment, I’ve told them not to take me to the hospital and just care for me at home. I’ve lived long enough already. I’d rather die than become a financial burden. If they go into debt and sell their properties to keep me alive, but I still die due to old age, what use would it have been? Instead of going through surgery or chemotherapy, isn’t it better for me to cross over peacefully?
I think my children still don’t take me seriously even though I’ve been saying this since their father died, but I won’t stop reminding them. Maybe the next step should be to tell them that my spirit won’t let them rest if they make me suffer my last days in a hospital.
I’m not scared of death, and they shouldn’t be too. Everyone has to go at one point, and I prefer to go in a way that won’t burden anyone. I’ve had the privilege of seeing my children marry and become successful, with their own children. What more does anyone want?
As 90s kids, part of the excitement we had going to school was receiving party packs from birthday celebrants. Our excitement grew in leaps and bounds on the once-in-a-year occasions when we were the ones giving out party packs.
The trend carries on till today, but party packs have now become a status symbol of sorts, with some parents determined to outdo others. These young Nigerian mums shared their stories with Zikoko.
“The most I’ve spent on party packs is ₦150k” — Ayomipo*, 31, Entrepreneur, 1 kid
Party packs have become a thing of competition among parents. Some of these kids, especially toddlers, don’t even understand the idea behind party packs. The most expensive pack my son got came in a big box. There were lots of toys, a storybook, a water bottle, a plate and cutlery set and lots of sweets and chocolates. I’d never seen a party pack that big and filled to the brim.
My son is just two, and the most I’ve spent on party packs is ₦150k. He hasn’t gotten to the point where he understands that a party pack is small or bulky. In my opinion, a decent spend shouldn’t exceed ₦5k per kid. It also depends on how many kids you intend to give.
“We got a super expensive water bottle; I checked the price online” — Rebecca*, 33, Customer service team lead, 1 kid
I’m yet to spend on party packs as my son is just ten months old, but he attends crèche and comes home with party packs a lot. The most expensive pack he got had this beautiful water bottle that cost a lot. I know this because I checked it out online. The pack itself was a lunch bag with so many other items I can’t remember.
My child is still a baby and doesn’t even know what a party pack is for now. I’d always say people should buy what they can afford; things that kids actually need. I also think age is a huge determinant of how expensive the pack should be. If you spend say ₦5k per pack on a two-year-old’s birthday, by the time the child is five, you can’t spend the same ₦5k. The content of the pack would be different, and the price of most items would’ve changed.
“What we can afford is what we go for” — Morenike*, early 30s, Journalist, 2 kids
I’m married with two beautiful girls. The first is four, and the second will be three in a few months. The goal is to have five kids, but I’m reconsidering. And this economy, ehn? I haven’t given much thought to what we’ve spent on party packs, but with the last birthday, we spent about ₦200k.
I try to do something different each time, to make the children happy. I’m never one to move with the pack; I cannot be pressured. Whatever we can afford is what we go for, and my kids don’t feel a certain way about the bulkiness of a party pack.
“I spend almost a million naira at a time on party packs” — Temilade*, early 30s, Entrepreneur, 2 kids
My girls are six and four. I’ve spent almost a million naira each time I do party packs, and looking back, I’m side-eyeing myself. In my children’s school, party packs dey like competition. Every parent wants to be seen as the best or richest. My kids have received tablets alongside other gifts before. Not a toy tab. I mean, the ones that sell for almost ₦40k. I couldn’t believe it. I had to double-check the other child’s pack and saw the same thing.
It has now become a competition. And these children don’t mind. We parents are the ones causing wahala. We always want to create a lasting impression.
“I once spent N350k on party packs, and I don’t think it’ll happen again” —Fatima*, 29, Entrepreneur, 1 kid
I have just one kid, he’s six years old, and we’ve had our fair share of party packs. In fact, my son threw a tantrum on his fifth birthday. I’d shown him items to be included in his party packs, and he wanted us to include this spiderman toy he’d gotten when a classmate marked his birthday. I explained that everyone in the class already had the same toy, so there was no need to buy it again. The most I’ve spent on party packs is ₦350k for my son’s fifth birthday, and right now, I don’t think I’ll be spending that much again. These kids remember, but they also forget.
You must also learn to teach your kids contentment. Because Mummy X did this doesn’t mean I have to do that. If you don’t instil certain values in kids now that they’re small, you’re setting yourself up for headaches when they grow older.
On December 7, 2022, the House of Representatives passed a bill titled, “Act to Re-amend the Child Rights Act, Cap. C50, Laws of the Federation of Nigeria, 2004”, for second reading.
This bill ensures children won’t be abandoned whenever or wherever they’re born. Parents found guilty of abandoning children would either be fined a sum of ₦200k, sent to prison for six months or both.
This is definitely a good step by the government to tackle a very serious problem, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact they may have failed to take certain things into consideration before this bill.
We still have archaic abortion laws
On October 8, 2019, a one-day-old baby was found in a refuse dump covered with maggots in Lokoja, Kogi State. Fortunately, the baby survived because residents took her to a specialist hospital for treatment. When the government found the mother of the baby, she refused to take her back. The baby ended up in an orphanage.
In 2017, the Lagos State government rescued about 237 abandoned babies, and one of the reasons these things will continue to happen is the country has refused to reform its abortion laws. Nigerian women don’t have a legal second option when they end up with unwanted pregnancies.
Our anti-abortion laws put women found guilty of violating it at risk of seven years in jail. So, these women are left with the possibility of either abandoning the child or illegally terminating the pregnancies at the risk of their lives.
We need better welfare programmes
During the passing of the bill for a second reading, lawmakers discussed the need for Nigeria to develop something similar to America’s social security system. Nigeria currently has over 17 million orphans and vulnerable children, some of them abandoned as children. They still struggle daily to access food, shelter, education, protection, and care. What’s the government currently doing to address the problem with functional social welfare services?
We need a working economy
Poverty is another reason parents choose to abandon their children. On April 21, 2020, a six-month-old baby was found by the roadside with a note from the mother saying she had no means to care for her. For those who decide not to abandon the child, they try to sell them off at a baby factory.
With the level of inflation in the country now and the price of things increasing almost every week, life must be especially difficult for those who struggle to make ends meet, how much more so for a new mother.
So while lawmakers make laws, they must realise the trend of parents abandoning children has more to do with a failing system than wickedness. They should first try to take out the log in their eyes before throwing these people into prison.
If you’re thinking, “Why would I even want to trigger my parents?” Congratulations, you’re the perfect Nigerian child.
On the other hand, you don’t even need to do anything specific to trigger them. If you’ve grown to this old age with typical Nigerian parents, you’ve probably already triggered the hell out of them at some point.
As a Nigerian, here are the most common ways to trigger your parents.
Just be yourself
Imagine being yourself when Daddy Divine’s third child graduated from Stanford and got married the same day. Strive to be better.
Try to correct your parents
Why would you tell your typical Nigerian mother that it’s WhatsApp, not Wazzup? Smells like disrespect.
Become smart
Oh, so you now know how to argue in Queens English? You’ve grown wings abi? Child of perdition!
Say you don’t believe in marriage or children
This one may or may not sentence you to a lifetime of family meetings, guilt trips and extensive prayer sessions.
Allow them access to your social media
Anything your eyes see, take it like that.
Become a content creator
So you really want to use your life to dance in front of a camera?
Have a healthy attitude to rest
Because only lazy people wake up after 4 a.m.
Press phone
It doesn’t matter if you’re using it for work. Why does your own work have to be done on phone? Shebi you should have just studied medicine.
Eat well
You too, why do you want to finish all the food in the house?
Don’t eat well
Are you trying to fall sick and have them give their money to doctors?
For many young Nigerians, especially those with strict parents, moving out and gaining your freedom may be the only legit thing to look forward to in adulting.
But what happens when, for whatever reason, you have to move back in with your parents after getting a taste of freedom? And no, I’m not referring to the fake one where you move out for university but your parents still foot your bills.
I’m talking about moving back in after you’ve lived in the real world on your own. Are there changes to the relationship dynamics? I asked five people who’ve experienced this, and got interesting responses.
“I’m this close to breaking down”
— Fatima*, 29
I got separated from my abusive husband around December 2021 and moved back in with my parents (I’m still with them). My dad has been really supportive — he was the one who encouraged me to choose my life over marriage — but my mum is a whole other issue.
She doesn’t outrightly say anything, but I can tell she wishes I’d stayed with my husband. She’s steady dropping passive-aggressive hints. I work from home, so I’m always with her too. If I stay in the study for more than 30 minutes, she’ll start murmuring about how she’s the only one caring for the house, or how idle hands always cause trouble.
I’m honestly tired. I’m currently trying to save up as much as possible to rent my own place before I lose my mind.
I moved back in with my parents four months ago, after I was forcibly kicked out of my apartment because I owed rent. I had just lost my job, and finance was really tight. I struggled to share it with my parents, but they eventually found out and basically forced me to move back home.
I thought it’d be awkward, but it’s actually been great. My parents relate with me like friends — I guess this is because I’m now an adult — and they respect my space. I’m slowly getting my finances together and should get another place soon, but it’s not been bad.
“They respect me more”
— Olaedo*, 27
I moved back in with my parents in 2020 just before the lockdown, because I wanted to spend that period with them. The short stay eventually became somewhat permanent when I got laid off, and I eventually got another job close to my parent’s house in 2021.
I’ve noticed that they respect me more. They don’t police my decisions, and they seek out my input on important matters. The only side effect is, my mum wants me to get married tomorrow.
“Black tax wants to kill me”
— Gifty*, 26
I decided not to renew my rent in 2021 because my roommate got married, and I couldn’t afford it by myself. So, I had the bright idea to move back in with my parents and cut costs for a while.
Omo, it’s hard. My parents see me as an adult, which is true, but it means they expect me to provide for the house. I know I’m supposed to help out, but not to this extent, biko. Plus, I have younger siblings. Do the math.
“I feel like a part of their marriage”
— Dayo*, 27
I returned to Nigeria in April [2022] after spending six years in the UK, and decided to stay with my parents for a while.
It’s cool and all, but it suddenly made me realise their marriage isn’t as perfect as I thought it was. Now when they have issues, they take turns reporting each other to me, expecting me to take a side. I guess they feel like I’m old enough to take it, but I’d rather not be involved.
Subscribe to the SHIPS newsletter today for more stories that touch on everything about love, romance, sex, and basically every human relationship.
*Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
Today is International Grandparents Day, and as a child, I always celebrated this day with my grandmother in church. In the morning, we would go to her church, Cathedral Church of Christ, Marina, Lagos. While I went off to Sunday school, she’d go to the adults’ church.
During the service, I’d join the kids to go to the main church for a presentation. It would either be a song or a play about grandparents. Later, the grandparents would stand, and they’d be given presents. It was a special day for me because I loved the opportunity to celebrate my grandma. It pains me that we’ll never get to celebrate together on this day again.
My paternal grandma raised me for nine years of my life, from age nine to 18, while I lived with her and my dad’s younger sister. As much as I loved my aunt, I was always more fond of my grandma. She knew it. Everybody knew it. I spent more time with her. My grandma was the one who dropped me off and picked me up from school on most days. She was at every open day and school event; she never missed any until I graduated. I would go with her everywhere she went: church, owambes, charity events, her friend’s house, the market, etc. People knew me as her handbag. As long as you knew Ayodele Eneli, you knew Damilola Eneli and vice versa.
I was her precious only grandchild, and she always showed me how special I was to her. She ensured I never lacked anything and always tried to give me whatever I wanted and needed. I remember once asking her to buy me this diary that could only be unlocked with voice recognition. It came with an invisible ink pen. She mentioned it was expensive, but the next time we went to that store, she told me I could have the diary. I was so elated.
She’d tell me I deserved the best of the best in everything, and that’s why instead of enjoying retirement, she worked hard so I could go to the best primary and secondary schools. She always put me first, no matter what. In everything I wanted to do, my grandma always told me to go for it, even if I wanted to fly to the moon. She never discouraged me or made any of my dreams seem unachievable.
I admired my grandmother for many reasons. One of which I realised as an adult, was that she was a 60-something-year-old woman taking care of a child entering her teenage years. It definitely wasn’t easy for her. I constantly stressed her by coming back late. I’d tell her I was going to my friend’s house down the street, she’d tell me to be back by 7 p.m. and I’d come back by 9 p.m. She’d get so worried and upset. I’m who I am today majorly because of my grandmother. I speak the way I speak because of her. I’m ambitious and career-oriented because of her. I’m independent because I saw how independent she was, and it was badass.
She was my role model. I admired every bit of her; her fashion, the way she spoke, the way everybody loved her and the friends she had. I think I’m social because of my grandma. Everybody knew her and liked her. I remember when she was voted as the president of her church association, Ladies League. Everyone wanted it to be her; it was a unanimous vote. I also remember times when she’d walk into an event and be greeted by many people. They’d greet her with so much joy, and shout, “Sisi Ayo”. It was amazing to see as a child.
———————————————————————————————————————————–
I don’t think I’ve ever talked about my grandma extensively without crying. So I’m not surprised I’m writing this article in tears.
———————————————————————————————————————————–
My grandma’s death broke me. The world took my best friend away from me. I call her my best friend because I bonded with her more than I could with most people. I spoke to my grandma about a lot of things. As a child, especially, I would gist with her and ask her a million questions. And she was always willing to answer.
Her death wasn’t the “sleep and not wake up” kind. She had a brain tumour, and I had to watch her health deteriorate over the span of about two years. She went from a happy, strong woman to one who struggled to utter simple words. I had to helplessly watch her be in pain.
I was in uni for most of her sickness, so my aunt was the one who took care of her. But there was a summer when I stayed with her at my grand-uncle’s house. At that point, she couldn’t move by herself, couldn’t speak, and she had a live-in nurse. My heart broke seeing her like that.
She couldn’t even speak to me, her grandchild. I would speak to her, but she couldn’t reply. I honestly prayed to God for a miracle to happen, and she’d get better. But she died after a major surgery. She was 76 years old. I lost my grandma at 18, and my entire world crumbled. To date, I haven’t been able to set foot in the hospital where she died.
It’s been seven years since. And every September 1 is a sad day for me because it’s the day she was taken away. It reminds me of my amazing memories with her. Like when we both watched “Deal or No Deal” at home, and tried to guess what amount of money was in the boxes; it was our favourite show to watch together. I was so blessed to have such an angel on earth.
For the longest time, I said my first-ever tattoo would be her name. And the day I got it, I felt like a special part of her had become part of me. Her name was her identity; having it on my arm constantly reminds me that she’s with me.
Grandma, I really do hope I’m making you proud. I hope you’re proud of the woman I’ve become.
If you were born to Nigerian parents in Nigeria, chances are, you got ass-whopped a fair amount of times. And you see, Nigerian parents use different items to spank their kids.
Take this quiz and we’ll guess which one was mostly used to spank you as a child.
Hear Me Out is a weekly limited series where Ifoghale and Ibukun share the unsolicited opinions some people are thinking, others are living but everyone should hear.
Before you hunt me down on social media to cancel my ass, I bet you’re just as guilty of breaking your mum’s heart.
Think back to your many sins. Sure, maybe you’ve never been arrested or you’ve somehow managed to consistently call your mum once every week, but what about those times you broke curfew in her house? Hm? And let’s not forget the lies after: “Mummy, leave me alone. It’s not like I was drinking.”
We’re not perfect. We’ve likely disappointed our mums at least once. And okay, dads can come in. It’s Father’s Day tomorrow, so it would be rude to forget that their hearts are just as breakable. Which is what I’m here to say: You will break your parents’ hearts, and that’s not so bad. Trust me, I’m not shouting it. I’m more like stuttering because this is one of those times the truth hurts like a bitch.
Right now, I’m talking to all my young adults who can’t ignore the desire to go out into the world and do their own thing. This is for us twenty-somethings who’d like to party literally all night, take that unpopular job and figure God out for ourselves.
So how do you grow up, even when your parents don’t want you to?
Build a fence taller than Otedola’s money. Breaking a heart always begins with setting boundaries. That’s why it feels like a gut punch when an ex blocks you on social media. It just so happens that this time, the people on the outside are also the same two people who bathed you for years, bought birthday cakes and prayed for you to “join a multinational company” after university. Of course, it’ll break their hearts.
You will break your parents’ hearts, and that’s not so bad.
I could tell that their relentless asking about my life, salary and every move was their attempt at guiding me, but I knew better. There are many ways to say it, but always, it’s the same thing: Your parents will only begin to recognise you as a separate and capable individual after you’ve cut them off kindly.
Say “no,” and make sure they hear you. Till today, my parents can’t understand why I’m growing my hair out. Every time they ask, I fling some version of “I’m trying something new” at them. Casually like that. I know the image of me they hold in their hearts and the son they see on the WhatsApp video call are worlds apart. Once, they sat me down and begged me to get a haircut. “Look responsible.” I said no.
When you stand your ground, your parents will get mad or sad or really quiet and confused; it’s all okay. Part of growing up is making your own decisions, consequences and all. This is what our parents want for us, whether or not they realise it.
Finally, make space for them. Because bless their hearts, they’re trying their best. It truly is not easy to watch a child grow and go. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to see your child brave the world by themselves. You know how babies are born and it seems everything on earth is somehow designed to end them? What if that feeling never goes away for our parents? I can’t imagine it, but I try.
So once every week, I call from wherever I am to let them know I’m good and safe. I drive them to church on Sundays when I’m home, and we all take pictures together. I ask my dad what stocks to buy even though I already know the answer. Because I know my mum prays for me, and it comforts her to do so, I pray too. I even tell her when I’m travelling so she can pray extra, extra hard.
I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to see your child brave the world by themselves
Growing pains, I think they call it. Emphasis on the pains because damn, it breaks all of us. I have this friend who — mid-laugh — says, “you will heal” to me whenever something slightly unpleasant happens. And just like that, we’re laughing at that same unpleasantness.
When you were younger, you looked at your parents like old people who weren’t so cool. You didn’t understand a lot of things they did, or why they said certain things. Then you got older and started doing a lot of things the same way they did. You started to imbibe their mannerisms and “slangs” till you eventually become a lot like them.
If you’re still in denial, here are some unmistakable ways to know you’ve become exactly like your parents:
1. You say, “Thank you God,” when you get home
Getting home safe is worth saying, “Thank you, God”. Getting home and laying in your bed after a long day is a good enough reason to thank God for. You also heave loudly and say, “Thank you, God,” when you sit down.
2. The prices of things have made you realise you have rice at home
With the way inflation has affected everyone, no one needs to tell you there’s rice at home; you tell yourself. Fancy restaurants have become a reward, not a necessity. This version of adulting is not what we signed up for.
3. You don’t have time forthings that aren’tyour business
Everyone should mind the one that concerns them. Putting your mouth in other people’s business isn’t something you’re interested in anymore. Let them carry their cross by themselves with the grace of God.
4. Abbreviations confuse you
There are new abbreviations every day and you simply can’t keep up with them. Before the week is over, you’re already seeing a new “wphd” after just learning what “ngl” means.
5. You send a lot of voice notes because texting gives you headache
Omo, who has time to be typing plenty after a very long day? Definitely not you. Let all your friends hear your voice and know that you’re doing ok. If you have to call someone, you keep the phone calls very short. Can’t let anyone come and use talk to waste the small energy you have.
6. Staying at home is always your first option
That fun you want to have outside can be had in your house. It’s not like our parents wanted to be introverts anyway; they just didn’t have the energy for parties or outings after spending all week adulting.
7. You sleep off while watching TV
Look at your life now. Shebi you were teasing your parents then about sleeping off in front of the TV. Now, look at you on a Wednesday Night sleeping off in front of Netflix.
Whew! This is the ultimate reason adulting needs to be abolished. Constantly worrying about money is so draining. Your parents worried about providing for you; now you have to worry about providing for yourself. Damn it!
9. Your back and your knees are crying for help
Do you watch Megan Thee Stallion or people blessed with good knees twerk sometimes and ask yourself why God has favourites? Your back and knees have decided to be a few years older than you and that’s why you’re always thanking God when you sit down.
10. Unnecessary noises irritate you
Loud music, loud people, loud places — anything unnecessarily loud irritates you so much. But it’s also kind of ironic how Nigerian parents, especially Nigerian mums hate noise sha, even though they’re loud themselves.
Growing up with strict parents as a girl is a special kind of hell. Here’s a list of things only women with strict parents will be able to relate to:
1. Curfews
Whenever your friends hang out, you are always the first to go home and even when you get home early, your parents will still be angry with you for having friends and going out.
2. Not saving phone numbers
Because you don’t want your parents to see who is calling or texting you and start asking questions. “Who is Isoken? How did you meet her? Is she in your class? Do I know her?”
3. Deleting texts
To avoid had I known. The thing with strict parents is any text can implicate you so let’s just avoid wahala and delete everything.
4. Not having friends
Because your parents are so nosy and will never let you go out to see your friends so what’s the point of having a friend when you know you can’t maintain the friendship. They won’t get it.
5. Not locking doors
How dare you lock your room when you are not planning to let the devil use you. An idle mind is the devil’s workshop besides how else can they barge into your room to tell you to go and boil rice for everybody.
6. Being non-confrontational as an adult
If as a child, asking questions could get you in trouble, speaking up might be difficult for you as an adult because you believe every confrontation would end in conflict.
7. Living a double life
Being the ideal daughter at home and being an entirely different person in school or with your friends is a normal thing for women with strict parents.
8. Lying
Lying is a survival skill when you have strict parents. If you know, you know.
9. Virginity tests
If you had strict parents and never got a virginity test, you are one of the lucky ones. It’s such a harrowing experience to have someone inspect your body for whether or not you are having sex, especially when you haven’t.
10. Sex guilt
After going through virginity tests and listening to many sermons about the dangers of sex, you will eventually develop shame around sex and when you have sex, you will feel guilty for indulging and enjoying it. This could bring problems for your emotional health and your relationships in the long run.
11. Anxiety
If your parents were strict when you were a child, chances are you have anxiety now. I don’t make the rules.
The subject of today’s What She Said is an 18-year-old firstborn who has already raised three children. She talks about spending her childhood raising her siblings, her dad’s obvious favouritism towards her brothers, and how she wishes her parents were more involved in raising their children.
Can you tell me the earliest memory of your childhood?
How bad we had it financially. We had so little that whenever I saw something new in the house, I’d ask them who gave us. Eventually, things started moving up slowly. My mum’s brother gave her a car that she gave to my dad. Her reason for giving it to my dad was that she didn’t know anything about cars and couldn’t drive. She also finally got a job in the civil service.
Before the job, she would drop me off at the neighbour’s, then carry my younger sister on her back to go sell crayfish.
Why did she not drop both of you?
My sister cried a lot. If she wasn’t with my mum, she’d cry for the entire day till my mum got back. Because of that, the neighbours didn’t want her around.
So you were the chosen one.
Yes, I was. At one point, my mum stopped selling crayfish and started selling doughnuts. She’d give my sister and I doughnuts to take to school. The doughnuts were big and fat and all my classmates were jealous of me. They didn’t know that the doughnuts were all my parents could afford at the time.
There was a time she sold iced fish and we went around telling people. It was fun sharing the flyers and helping her scout for customers.
What about your dad?
He was a junior civil servant and wasn’t earning a lot. Funny story on how he got the job. They didn’t want to give him at first because they knew he was Igbo.
Go on…
When they referred my dad for the job, the woman conducting the interview was shouting to her subordinate in Yoruba that why would they hire an Igbo man, but they didn’t know my dad speaks fluent Yoruba. In the midst of her shouting, he stood up to leave and thanked them in Yoruba. They called him back and offered him the job because they didn’t know if he was sent by the government or something.
Nepotism nepotisming. Now about your sister…
I was just about to clock two when my parents had my younger sister. My mum told me I didn’t like her and was always asking her to take my sister back to wherever they got her from.
I grew up with very little, but it was worse for my sister. When I was born, my parents tried to do the best they could because there was still ginger. My sister, however, came after me so got a lot of hand me downs. I ate cerelac; she had akamu and crayfish.
Even with the new job?
Yes. Things started moving up and small small money started entering the account with my parents’ jobs, but things didn’t really change until 2009. My first brother was born in 2007, and he felt some of the poverty. But my youngest brother, the fourth child, was born in 2009 after things had gotten way better for my family financially. My dad got a promotion and they made him a senior officer. So before my brother was born, we had changed the furniture and retiled the house and also fixed the car. That’s why he’s a soft baby boy. My neighbours once said that the reason they know we’re eating in the house is because our last born just keeps getting fatter and rounder. He doesn’t know suffering.
Must be nice for him o. How did things get better for you?
School. Uni changed everything. When I’m in school, it’s just me and myself. I don’t have to think about what person A will eat or if person C has done assignments or washed uniforms. I love it.
My dad and sister are the ones doing most of the work in the house. Some days, my dad calls to ask how to make some kinds of soup. He’d end the call with how he can’t wait for me to come back so he can stop doing all the work.
Wait, but you have three siblings…?
This is why I feel like a second mum. I never had a chance to be a child. Everything that concerned my siblings was done by me. If they made any mistakes, I got the blame. They tell me I’m supposed to know better because I’m older. I have no space to myself.
I started cooking for my siblings when I was eight. I couldn’t make soups, but I was making sauces, potatoes, yam, etc. They still expect that from me.
At 8? Omo I don’t even cook now at 20.
It was so stressful. I’d have to cook for my siblings and then pack what they’d take to school or daycare for lunch. I remember praying to God that I hoped my mum was done having children because I was tired.
As I grew older, the tasks increased. My younger sister is a bit more persuasive than I am. She also started asserting her independence earlier so they don’t stress her as much. My brothers? They’re spoiled. When my mum had them, my dad forgot my sister and I existed. It was like he’d been waiting for sons.
There was a time on my birthday, my dad gave me money to buy myself something. I went to buy cheese balls, and when I got home, my dad was holding my younger brother in his arms. My brother pointed at the cheese balls, and my dad just collected it from me with the change and gave it to him.
ON YOUR BIRTHDAY?
On my birthday o. It’s worse because my birthday is in January, and everyone is usually broke because of Christmas festivities. The cheese balls were my only source of joy and happiness. I was so sad.
What could I have done? Once, I sent my brother to buy milk. Not only did he buy the wrong milk, but he opened it and started licking it. He also lost my change. Would you believe my parents blamed me?
Ah. Wow.
My parents showed obvious favouritism. They didn’t try to hide it.
When I was 14, I went to pay my school fees. It took way longer at the bank than I thought it would, so I came home around 4 p.m. My parents had called at the time and when I didn’t pick up, they called my neighbours. My neighbours told them I wasn’t at home so when they came back, they started shouting at me so much. They asked me how I could leave my brothers all alone. I was shocked because the older one was 10. Ten! At that time, I was taking care of everyone else.
Now he’s 14 and still can’t do anything in the kitchen. When my sister isn’t around, my dad is the one that does the cooking because “do you want your brothers to burn down the house.” My sister is always complaining because she does everything alone and nobody helps her out.
Omo, so what’ll happen when you go back home?
It means I’d resume the cooking and cleaning all over again. Sometimes when my dad calls, he tells me he can’t wait for me to return home so I can continue the work. It’s one of the reasons I avoid the house during holidays.
My brother goes out to play games and football and nobody says anything. As I am, I can’t just go to my friend’s house unannounced, but my brother disappears for hours and my mum just lightly tells him not to do it again, but he does it again!
If you could change anything, what would it be?
I’d wish my parents were more involved in raising their children. It felt like they just dumped all the children on me to raise. I also wish they spaced the children more. Maybe it would have given me a chance to actually be a child.
For more stories like this, check out our #WhatSheSaid and for more women like content, click here
Parents might have been the ones that birthed us, but that does not mean everyone likes theirs. 6 Nigerians tell us why they don’t like their parents.
Sarah, 18
I don’t like my parents because of all the physical and emotional abuse I’ve gone through with them over the years. Some might see it as “discipline” or “training” but all it did was traumatise me and maybe make me develop some concerning kinks. It didn’t help matters that when I tried to talk to them about it so we could bury the hatchet and at least try to live harmoniously, all I got was more abuse.
Bolanle
So, I don’t like one of my parents and since I have moved from hate, this is progress. Now, I just wish they never existed in the first place. I don’t like that my father was not present in my life while growing up and when he came back around the time I was 16, he didn’t come back to stay. He came back to be inconsistent and mess with my mental health. Whenever I feel like I have made progress and I’m getting better, my dad shows up again to take me back to ground zero. If he were dead, this wouldn’t be happening.
Lily, 21
How utterly alone talking to them makes me feel. Everything turns into a lecture or a disagreement and it would be nice to just get things off my chest with the people who birthed me. I can’t even see a dress and comment on it without my mother making weird faces and talking about decency. I would have liked to be able to talk to my mum to talk about the stupid boys that broke my heart, but I had to figure all that out myself. I love them, but I don’t like them and I’m happiest when I’m not around them.
My mum and I are currently estranged because she made fun of me for being sexually attacked as a child. She then lied to say I never told her. It was such a horrible lie that I went on with life with no contact with her. She could always be found to be on the side of people who did me harm.
It is her consistent and clear choice. My former brother-in-law was abusive to my sister. My mum would entertain him and even let him know where my sister was staying when he was stalking her. I had to protect myself and with space, I had to think. I knew and had to accept that I did not like her.
Zainab, 20
I don’t hate my parents. In fact, I like to believe that I love them very much. I just don’t like them. My parents see me as an extension of themselves, constantly forcing their way of life on me. I like to believe I’m an adult and can make certain decisions by myself, or that I know what’s right for me and what isn’t. They don’t think so. It’s irritating and leads to resentment. I really love my parents, but I resent them for not letting me by myself.
Derin, 22
I don’t hate them, I just don’t exactly like them. Especially my mum. She’s extremely difficult and ununderstanding. If she wasn’t my mum, I wouldn’t like to be her friend or want to be associated with her, but I don’t hate her. She gives me anxiety and can be very toxic. We don’t have a good relationship and she has never tried to build one but she seems to be forcing it these days which gets me annoyed.
My father on the other hand turns a blind eye when my mum is being herself. That’s why I don’t him so much. I think I have mixed feelings about him but my mum? I don’t.
Sometimes, parents grow wings and start keeping late nights and other such things. Here are some effective ways to punish your parents and prevent matters from getting out of hand.
1. Tell them to face the wall
Tell them to face the wall and think about what they’ve done. Make sure you check on them every 20 minutes to find out if they’ve learnt their lesson.
2. Tell them to write “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again” 500 times
It can be more or less, depending on your mood, but they need to write it as many times as possible to show they’re truly sorry.
3. Change their password
If they can’t unlock their phone, they won’t be able to get in touch with those friends that are corrupting them. Restricting websites they can visit is a plus.
4. Seize their phone
If they somehow figure out the new password, just seize their phone. No phone, no problem.
5. Start giving them one piece of meat
When you start giving them one piece of meat, they will know that something is wrong somewhere. They will definitely adjust their behaviour after that.
6. Lock them in their room
This might seem extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If they keep misbehaving after you’ve tried everything, simply lock them in their room. It’s the most efficient way to punish your parents.
Mummy, daddy, uncle and aunty, we shall not be beating around the bush. Here is a list of things you do that we do not appreciate and we think you need to stop doing them.
T for Thanks.
1. Sending Whatsapp broadcasts (a.k.a forwarded many times)
Please, make it stop. The broadcasts are always so long, even if it has been forwarded to you, please send a summary if you think it’s so important and need to share that information.
2.Womb watching
‘‘They have been married for 3 years, why haven’t they given birth?’’. Please, stop it. Respectfully, mind your own business and your own kids.
3.Marriage watching
We keep saying please because we have to respect our elders. Please try to stop doing it, since marriage is sweeting you, enjoy yours.
Ever wondered about who would play your parents if your life was a Nollywood movie? Wonder no more. Take this quiz and we’ll tell you exactly who should play your parents.
Time changes a lot of things, like the quality of a wine. Maturity also helps put a lot of things in perspective, particularly with parenting. I spoke to a couple of people about how time had changed their relationship with their parents. Here’s what they had to say.
Derek, 21
I had a pretty okay relationship with my dad when I was much younger. I knew he was trash but respectable trash – he was a womanizer and everyone knew it. But at least, he never used to beat me. When I was 14/15, he married a new wife and things went left.
One day, she told him I eyed her. He came down to the section of the house my mum and I stayed and tried to beat me. He ended up giving me an injury on my back, a scar I still have.
I had to run half-naked across town to get help because he was beating my mum for trying to protect me. It didn’t stop. One day, not long after, I can’t remember what caused the argument but he disowned me. At some point, he refused to let me back into the house so I had to sneak back in just to eat, see my mum and sneak back out to stay with my cousins. I remember him telling me to leave his house or he’ll run over me with his car. He actually tried to. It took years to process the whole thing. Now, he is ‘trying’ to get back on good terms with me. But I have his numbers blocked.
So my mum and I were very close growing up. The older I got, the less close we became. I used to be an obedient church boy whose purpose in life was to make her proud. Then I became less of that. I stopped going to church, and it became worse after I came out as gay to her and she threatened to call the police. She hit me with a belt when I said I wouldn’t go to church in 2019.
Things improved when I became independent but not by much. I still get calls asking me to find a girlfriend, to remember God etc. Then there’s the issue of black tax. That played a major role in the decline of our relationship. I help with fees. Yesterday, I paid rent for them. This morning, I got a text that she wants to give some money to a friend of hers in need and I should help.
And I won’t lie, I have some resentment. Because I know what my life would be like if I had a little support and if I didn’t have to do so much by myself. It’s like my family gave me nothing but trauma and responsibilities. And they never let me forget about the responsibilities and pressure on me because they are always calling to remind me that they are counting on me.
Even during Christmas. I’ll send money for Christmas clothes, Christmas food, Christmas hair and they’ll still ask for more. It is exhausting. And tiring. And god awful.
Akin, 31
When I was younger, there was a lot of tension between my mother and me because I was kind of a disappointment but when I gained admission into uni, I became worthy, like Thor became worthy of the Mjölnir. I suddenly was a good example in the house. I think it also helped that I became a lot calmer and more grateful after I gained admission. Distance might have helped too because I schooled in the North while they were in Lagos.
My relationship between my father and me isn’t great but isn’t bad either. We hardly fight anymore since I moved out of the house but he’s always complaining about how I’m always talking to my mum but I don’t visit or call him.
Overall, I think I have a good relationship with both of them. They respect me, even before I started giving them money, which I think is beautiful.
Oyinda, 31
I’ve always lived with my mum and only see my dad once in a while. I’ve always had quite an amazing relationship with my dad and it keeps getting better. We talk about anything and everything.
On the other hand, my relationship with my mother fluctuates like NEPA. We had bad disagreements when I was younger but I assumed it would get better the older I got but I was wrong. It’s like we take one step forward, five steps backwards. She doesn’t open upto me and evades personal questions all the time. Only God can help us at this point. Regardless, I love them both very much.
Sophia, 20
My relationship with my parents is the absolute ghetto. I grew up in a Catholic household, with a very misogynistic father and a mother who does everything to stroke his ego. They have always done everything possible to control every aspect of our lives; what we wear, who we associate with, the activities we engage in, every single thing. I find it difficult to forge relationships with people because I am hardly ever allowed to leave the house, except for errands.
My parents think we are living in some sort of dystopian age and it always makes me feel like a character out of ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’. If you’ve seen it, you’ll know how bad my situation is.
Now that I’m older, my father is convinced I’m ‘possessed’ because I refuse to conform to his misogynistic standards of what a woman should be. I’m just waiting to move out by next year. They won’t hear from me after that.
I wonder how they’ll react when they find out I’m gay.
Angelina, 28
My dad is late and my mom is a super mom. When I was younger (21-24) I was so angry at my mother. She left us a lot as teenagers to work and care for my dad who was terminally ill. I had a really hard time navigating adolescence and young adult life and had to be my own parent (I can’t really cook nor am I homely). I was so pissed with her so I kept picking fights, being vile and just outrightly nasty to her.
Some time passed and I start earning more money, navigating life and getting some sense. I realized all the trade-offs she had to make for us. Being a good, present mother or work extra jobs to earn money and care for my family. She chose the latter and I am well off today because she did. I now understand her in so many other ways and empathize with her. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her. Today, we are best friends and I am always looking for any opportunity to spoil her.
Mariam, 22
I’m only 22 sha, still a baby girl under their thumb. There are three of us and I’m the middle child, but my older sister is extremely fragile, so I became the parent instead of her. My whole life, I’ve been grateful that my parents don’t care too much. They mostly allow us to do our own thing, which was really nice when I was younger. But I realised when I was 15 that my parents are NOT there for us emotionally at all.
To say that my dad abandoned me isn’t even accurate because he’s never really been there in the first place. He just pays bills and occasionally tells us stories about himself. My mom tries, but she has her own trauma which means she’s constantly hurting me and my sisters and can’t take responsibility for it. Nowadays, I just think of them as bank accounts. They have nothing to do with my life. I’m basically parenting my younger sibling because my parents are so dismissive when they try to “connect” with us. I’m just waiting to be free of their financial control so I can ignore them.
Beke, 31
My dad is my best friend on this earth. I didn’t exactly grow up with him – I spent my school years up to uni living with relatives. Even then, he ensured he was close. We bonded over football, I remember we used to watch Miracle of Dammam, USA 94 and Atlanta 96 tapes together. He bought me footballs every holiday because it’s the one thing I always wanted.
When I got into uni, we got even closer. We talked about everything and he knows me very well. He once said I didn’t have the suspension of belief necessary to be religious, which was the best compliment I’ve gotten. He’d always say “Beke, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the issue is, we’ll deal with it together. You know I’m always in your corner.”
Here’s a detailed guide on how to educate your future children about sex like your Nigerian parents did. From ignoring the existence of sex altogether to making them too scared to bring it up, this should ensure your child learns everything they need to know from porn.
1. NEVER directly talk about sex with your children.
If they’ve never heard about sex, it’s only logical that they will never have it? Abi? Simpu!
2. Make sure they are so uncomfortable around you that they never bring up sex.
This is not a Hollywood film. You and your children are not friends.
3. If that doesn’t work and they start asking too many questions, just give them this look:
This ‘Nigerian mother face’ will stop them dead in their tracks.
4. Repeatedly warn them about the dangers of any kind of interaction with the opposite sex.
They shouldn’t even breathe near them.
5. Just assume every member of the opposite sex they talk to is their boyfriend or girlfriend.
We all know men and women can never JUST be friends.
6. Ban them from going out until they are old, then constantly ask why they are still single.
You know they can never have sex if they are ALWAYS at home.
7. Always remind your daughter that if a man touches her, she will get pregnant.
Also remind her that if she gets pregnant she will die.
8. Make sure your son knows that if he gets a girl pregnant, his only option is to marry her.
Remind him every other day.
9. Leave any and all forms of actual ‘sex education’ to their biology teacher.
Why else are you now paying school fees?
10. You should always remind them to ‘face their book’ and nothing else.
They cannot be facing book and having sex at the same time. It’s scientifically impossible.
11. Whenever a sex scene comes up in a movie, remember to shout at them.
That way your children know that human contact is of the devil.
12. Never talk to them about safe sex, before they think they are allowed to have sex.
Safe sex is for people having sex abi? So, why should they know about it?
13. Wait till they have moved out and are gainfully employed before finally having the sex talk.
If you can wait till their wedding night sef, it’s even better.
There are many reasons why people don’t have children. I think unless they specifically ask for our opinion, we should respect their privacy. If they do ask, we should do more listening than talking.
1) “Don’t your parents want Grandchildren?“
2) “You’ll regret when you are old.”
3) “Children give purpose to life.”
4) “Ah, time is going oh.”
5) “Who will carry your family name?”
6) “It’s because she did abortion when she was younger.”
7) “Sorry.”
8) “As them fine reach, them no get pikin.”
9) “Stop being selfish.”
10) “When I was your age, I already had two kids.”
Looking like your parents isn’t a big deal for you, especially if you really don’t see it. So while everyone else scrambles above themselves to compare every habit and utterance of yours to your parents’ you just want them to get over it.
On the other hand, it can be fun and you get a kick over people’s reaction to your resemblance, particularly when it dawns on you that some members of your family can’t tell you (or your voice) apart from your mother or father.
Here are some of the things you will relate to if you look like your parent:
1) You’re often mistaken for them.
People will call you by their name more times than you can count and look shocked when it turns out to be you.
2) You know the phrase “spitting image” by heart.
This is a statement you encounter at least once a month and have gotten tired of hearing.
3) Your friends never believe how much you look like your parents until they see them.
They probably thought you were exaggerating your likeness and rolled their eyes before making that expected statement, “Everyone looks like their parents joor.”
Wait until they see how much you look like yours.
4) Then they never get tired of joking about how identical you are.
This is where they ask if you are siblings or twins. No oh, we are triplets.
5) You’ve gotten used to hearing, “haba, your mama/papa they run go?”
It’s hard for people to come to terms with the fact that you had no say in the matter of your looks–it’s just genes people.
6) Your parent’s old photos can pass for your most recent.
Even their pose in it is a direct copy of your favorite pose.
7) People love to tell you how you’ll age.
Self-proclaimed experts will use your parents as a reference on how you’ll look when you get older. Like you didn’t know that already.
8) Getting peppered with questions about how your siblings look.
Surely, you must all be mirror images of your parents if you look the way you do.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
This week, we follow a 25-year old lady who’s living a good life – great money, holidays, comfort. But she has a better idea – freedom from her dad’s misogyny.
When do you think you first understood the importance of money?
I got my first taste of freedom during university. My parents are the kind of people who say, “This is your budget, anything outside this means you’re on your own.”
That’s when I started wondering how people manage when they don’t have money. People started to tell me things I didn’t notice about myself:
“Your parents are still giving you this amount? Oh wow, you’re some rich kid.”
Before then, I never really saw myself as a rich kid. I thought the rich kids were the ones we saw in newspapers and things like that.
What specific things do you remember?
I picked my accommodation for convenience and comfort. Most of my peers on the other hand, were about cutting costs. I also wanted to be close to school, and the closer you got to school, the more expensive things were.
I wasn’t really thinking about all that, and my friends noticed. Also, there was this specific thing that set me apart from most people – it was the funniest thing – heating.
Ah, the Abroad. Tell me about it.
A lot of my friends never turned on their heaters, because bills. But whenever they came to my place, it was toasty warm. Also, rent was always paid for a year. A lot of people had to pay month by month, but my parents paid for a full year.
What other specific things do you remember? Did you worry about food, budget, etc?
To be honest, I didn’t have to worry about those things on a day to day basis. It was just the sort of thing where, by the end of the month, after buying all of the expensive groceries, you had to manage for the remaining ten days.
I never worried-worried. It was just the sort of thing where I had overspent my allowance.
What was your monthly allowance like?
My parents gave me £1000 a month, and an extra £100 to pay for internet.
When was the first time you felt ‘I worked for it and I got it!’ with money?
I did an internship before I got into school. Some context: because of the way we were raised in my family, our hustling spirit was kind of crippled. We grew up to be very co-dependent on our father. He’s a very – you know one of these patriarchal, everything-must-go-through-me men?
Ahhh yes.
Growing up, we were never allowed to do things like internships or work outside of school. As far as he was concerned, he was working for us. Even my mum wasn’t working, until recently. She had a business but it wasn’t so tangible, so she could easily be home for dinner.
I get that.
So if we said, “Okay dad, my friends are going to New York, they’re going to get internships and get paid and things like that,” he didn’t understand.
He’ll be like, “Why are you working?” That kind of thing. When I got that internship, I had to beg to work. I was afraid I wasn’t going to get into a good university, because these days, they aren’t just looking at grades. They are looking at extracurriculars and I had nothing outside what I was supposed to do in school!
Mad.
At first, he suggested that I come work for him. I said nope!
After my internship, I got paid, and I was like oooooh, this is my money. No one is going to tell me what to spend it on! It was small, but it was mine.
This got ruined quickly, because the moment I entered university, I tried to get a job. He said, “If you do, I’m not going to pay anything for you. I sent you there to go to study. That’s it!”
Funny thing is, we’re all girls. If we were boys, I bet the narrative would have been different. I have heard his conversations with male cousins my age and the conversations are completely different. At first, I thought maybe it’s because we are his children, but as I got older I realised he is actually a full-blown misogynist.
Growing up in such a setting – I’m not going to lie – completely destroyed our hustling spirits. Because anything we want –
– Daddy
That didn’t help any of us.
The funniest thing is that we’re very educated women. All of us have first degrees and it’s either we are getting second degrees or already have second degrees.
2019 is the first year I’m pursuing something for myself. I mean, it hasn’t properly started, but there’s the satisfaction of knowing that I’m doing something on my own, for myself.
Your rules, your consequences.
Brooo, I’m like yooooo, so this is what freedom is all about. Some of the people in my circle went through this phase with their parents when they were 18-19. We, at our age, are still fighting our parents for our own independence – I’m 25.
Tell me about this.
If I tell my dad that I want to pay for something myself, he sees it as completely disrespectful.
“How dare you, when I’m there.”
You’re not protecting your kids, you’re stifling their growth. All the conversations we have at home revolve around money.
So money is a tool?
It is the tool control, because he knows that we’re all so dependent. I’m not trying to paint him as a bad dad – he’s also a great dad, and he provides for us.
A Nigerian dad.
Yeah I just feel like maybe if we were boys or if we were raised in a different setting, he would be a bit different.
I wonder, is it that there are certain men who feel like they have to take care of everyone till they die?
Back to your trail, when did you finish uni?
2015. Then I came home for NYSC and started in November. I was posted to one state and fell sick as soon as I got into camp. A lot of the people in camp didn’t like me because I wasn’t used to that kind of environment. But that’s kind of standard; Nigerians are quite angry. I didn’t really take it to heart.
I redeployed closer to home – daddy intervened. My Place of Assignment was one really really big private company. One of my bosses met me and the first thing he asked was, “Who’s your father, because that’s how you got here.”
That year was my most determined. I wasn’t really a school person like that – I kind of zoned out in my final year. It was even by God’s grace I graduated. But when I got to this company, I wanted to prove that I was just more than daddy’s girl.
Work hours were 9-6, but I was in the office from about 8:30 am until 7:30 pm – they didn’t ask me to. They were even paying me ₦45,000 a month. But I worked like a full staff. I was doing finances, the admin work. I was doing all the vouchers because they had a lot of expenses. They have partners all over the world, so I was handling all our expatriates coming in, booking hotels, doing all the running around. I was doing research for the MD and sending emails for my supervisor. I was working! And the fact that I was just earning ₦45,000 didn’t faze me because I was not working for the money.
I was just trying to ask myself, “Am I capable?”
I’d applied to go for my Masters abroad after my service year, and my boss told me, “Oh we are sad you’re going, we actually wanted to retain you”
That was my victory.
My supervisor thought I did an amazing job. She used to be glued to her desk, but when I joined, she started going out. She even told me to give her a website where she could watch series.
So basically you were earning ₦45k + ₦19,800. Was that enough to sustain your lifestyle?
Since we were young, we’ve been getting this thing called the Director’s Salary – we’re on the board of our dad’s company. I think I was getting paid about ₦200k per month since I was a teenager. I didn’t have access to the account until I crossed 18 – my mum was the signatory. But when I finally had access, it was about ₦5 million in there.
So as a corper, ₦200k + ₦45k + ₦19,800. Which corpers were you rolling with?
Hahaha. I served with some of my family friends; we’ve known each other all our lives. One of them was even a proper rich kid. A lot of people who were in my CDS were actually people who had gone to school abroad.
Anyway, I travelled back for my Masters at the end, and it reverted back to the old program. “We’ll give you your rent money, just stay in school and focus. That’s it!” But we had a deal that after I finished, I could look for a job in the States.
Okay, how did that go?
Trump. I spent 6 months looking. And I couldn’t stay any longer because my visa was about to expire.
I was applying for jobs abroad because I knew that if I lived abroad, I would be able to take care of myself. I knew that if I came back, my only option was –
– Daddy’s schedule.
Anyway, I came back home, in 2018. I got a job with one government-ish establishment, but that just went bad. My supervisor hated me because she felt like my dad had a hand in me getting the job. She just didn’t give me any work to do. I talked to her, I talked to her boss, nothing. I was there for three months doing nothing. I was wasting away.
How much were they paying?
₦100k
Plus your director’s salary.
Yes. So I left and came to work for my dad’s company. Coming back, I felt like I could use my business school education to make the place a bit more structured. But I’ve always felt it’d be difficult to work for my parents because I felt like I’d just be there for decoration.
I just think that all of our relationships with our parents are strained because of this ‘money’ thing. Anyway, I asked myself, “What are the things that I actually want to do?”
I’ve always been interested in Agric.
I want to get into this myself – I literally just registered a company. Triumph number one! I started seeking out people with more experience to help, it took some back and forth, and some people even tried to dupe me.
But I always acted like I was stupid because I feel like the best way to find out about something is to act like you don’t know anything. Be the girl who just came back from Abroad and knows nothing.
Hahaha. What do you want to grow?
Rice. For a start.
Between all of these, I lent some money to my mum from my savings, so she could start a proper-proper business. Because this is the first true one, I was so happy to go all “take my money!” Also, it’s a hospitality business. It was easy to lend her money because my Director’s Salary climbed.
Yeah?
It got increased to ₦1.2 million. Joining the company as a director, they had to pay me more than the managers. Also, when my mum started her business, she put me and my sisters as directors. So we are now earning salaries from there as well. That’s another ₦400k.
That’s a lit ₦1.6 million.
1.5+ is what I tend to get actually. So I started saving more aggressively. See? Growth might be slow, but it’s going to happen.
So, it’s your first time saving out of necessity.
Yes. I never had to. So when I spoke to the Agric guys, they told me how much I needed to invest in the business.
How much?
At the scale I want to get started with, ₦20 million. Funny thing is, my dad found out about it somehow.
Woah.
Some of the people I was trying to work with involved my dad. He was now like wait,
“So you registered a company, you didn’t tell me.”
“You didn’t even add me as one of your directors!”
“You didn’t put me anywhere!”
How did you respond?
“Sorry.”
I told him how much I had to save from my salary to get to the target. He had no idea I’d been saving previously of course – I’m currently at ₦12 million. Weird thing is, I’d always felt the need to save, even while I was in school.
How do you save?
I split my savings into naira and dollars. I can’t save everything in naira only to end up hearing that naira has lost value again. I’m planning to have reached my savings target by March next year. Best time to plant rice is between March and August.
That’s close.
Every month I put myself on a strict budget, but there’s a problem that I have. I’ve always been a shopaholic. And I inherited that from my parents. My father has like 100 shoes per house. And he has houses in three countries. He just loves shopping. So all of us took after him, especially me.
But this year, I was like why am I waiting? I don’t have kids, I’m not married. This is the time I can be a little bold and build something for myself.
I know people that are way younger than me – some earning less – and they are hustling now. So what is my own excuse?
It’s like I’m in a better environment where I’m actually even getting good money each month and I can actually put away a large amount to do something for myself.
I had to give myself that pep talk.
What’s your savings target every month?
Then another 150k goes to God. So at the end of the day, I have about 300k to spend.
Where does the 300k go?
The 300 goes to keeping up appearances – not with people. It’s very funny, my father is a kind of person that if he sees that there’s nothing going on with money like you’re not using his money for anything, he gets very suspicious.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re not going out, you’re not doing anything.”
“I don’t understand, what’s the meaning of this?”
I’ve never seen a man who’s just so determined to make sure that we’re all – I dunno. So even if I’m not spending money, it’s a problem. So I just buy myself like a cute dress from somewhere, once in a while, and go out with my friends to like lunches and dinner.
Right now, I wish I could literally watch you and your dad see Lion Heart.
Genevieve stunting with her daddy in Lionheart (Netflix)
Hahaha. Oops. It feels like you’ve built your entire financial goals around breaking free.
Yes. I plan my savings in two blocks, one for moving out, and one for starting my business. Before I even started saving for rent, I needed to know where I was going to move to. So my savings goal for rent is 2 million. I’ll just chill and move out by the end of 2020, or beginning of 2021. Can’t be unrealistic and start moving out immediately.
By January 2020, I should have saved up for my business.
Are you getting any help from a Financial Advisor?
Hahaha. I went behind my dad and got one of his financial advisors. This one is the person who handles the most important books, loans, banks. He has contacts in Agric too.
I went to him like, epp me sir.
Also, he’s one of my secret supporters of moving out of this shadow.
Random, but what does broke mean to you?
Hmmn. That’s an interesting question. I think it’s when I switch from luxury to necessity. In our household, we always joke that we’re broke. But we’re not actually broke. The last time we actually felt like that in our household was 2017. That was when my parents were going through a rough patch financially. Which a lot of people were also going through.
But it just meant I didn’t get extra money when I ran out. I still got my allowances.
So like till now our broke is not really… Someone told me, “Your broke is my rich.”
Hahahaha.
I was like I don’t know what you’re trying to say but okay, no problem.
How many of your friends does this your pursuit of your business confuse?
I’ll say it goes half way. I have friends that are so proud of me. And there are some who are like, but why?
I’m not trying to sound like a brat; I don’t have to work. But I want to. So I’m not going to let anyone undermine that. It’s never too late to start.
I stan. I solemnly stan
My dad and my uncles treat their daughters the same. I don’t know whether it is genetic. All of them are full-blown misogynists.
None of their daughters have the hustling spirit, but the boys are encouraged to hustle.
I’ve been telling my younger one to start saving and planning. Because one day, my dad will wake up and see all of us have disappeared. Then we’ll be calling him like, “Yo pops –
– How far now? How you see life?”
“Yeahhh I’m in my office. I’m in my own house. So what you gon say now boo?”
On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your financial happiness?
Eight.
I’m getting enough financial support that I need to be able to have goals and chase them. No matter what I’ve said, I’ve never said I’m ungrateful for everything that my parents have given me – the money, the privilege. I’m just saying I just wish there was a bit of room for independence for all of us.
People are like, “Oh you’re so lucky, your dad buys you this and that.” So I don’t complain to people so that I don’t look like a rambling ingrate.
That remaining two is just the control that is attached to that financial happiness and just drains the life out of you sometimes. My older sister is paying for her life abroad, there are some times that he still gives her money.
“Let me buy your ticket to come back to Nigeria.”
“It’s summer let me just give you something to hold.”
The kind of relationship I don’t mind having. When you know you’re living your own life, you’re doing your own things, but once in a while, he’s still there.
Okay. So what’s something that you think I could have asked that I didn’t ask?
Hmm, that’s a good one. Maybe another scenario would have been good.
Tell me.
I’ll probably be living on my own with a small car. Working for maybe a bank, or maybe working for one of the Big Four, slumming it out, you know. I’d be a worker. A proper worker. But this is the reality I’m in, so I gotta hustle my own hustle.
I hope the business works out.
It’s on the way. It is on its way.
I need to head out for my meeting now.
Thank you for taking the time.
Check back every Monday at 9 am (WAT) for a peek into the Naira Life of everyday people. But, if you want to get the next story before everyone else, with extra sauce and ‘deleted scenes’, subscribe below. It only takes a minute.
If you had to explain Nigerian parenting styles, chances are the descriptions around civilian dictators, passive-aggression champions and flogging samurais would probably make the cut.
Now I can’t think of any one scenario where these features would be ideal, least of all when young and highly impressionable children are thrown into the mix, but somehow, these have been part and parcel of the Nigerian parenting handbook for years and years
Perhaps because Nigerian children have always turned out okay, or okay to the extent where we aren’t publicly losing our shit in public on a daily; but it just might appear that these styles work… or do they?
To know where hearts stand in the matter of Nigerian parenting styles, we asked five people if they would continue where their parents left off in raising children of their own.
“I have to say the strongest, most non-negotiable no” – Femi
I don’t want to outrightly say God forbid because there is a chance my parents get wind of this and call a family meeting on my head, but I have to say the strongest, most non-negotiable ‘no’ there is to that question.
Growing up, the minute my father came in through the door, in fact, the second we heard the double-beep honk that marked his arrival home, my siblings and I would use all of .2 seconds to turn off the television, clean up every sign that we were in the living room and make our way to our rooms. The fear was so real, I don’t recall ever sitting down with him to chat, beyond asking for school fees here and some additional money for expenses there. Mind you, these requests only happened when my mother absolutely refused to be the conduit between children and father. Of course, as I’ve gotten older, attempts have been made to forcibly create a relationship, but it’s too little, too late. I’m overly polite at best and completely uninterested in the conversation most times.
When I have children, best believe my primary goal is being their best friend, someone they can confide in and laugh with. Not someone who takes pride in children being unable to look him in the eye for the smallest requests.
“I would ask my parents to write a book” – Dorothy
I grew up in the most unconventional Nigerian home there ever was. This may have had a part to play with my mother being half-Sierra Leonian but it was the most loving, nurturing home there ever was. Rather than leaving the raising of their children to schools and parental hands alone, our home was always filled with trusted family and friends. We were always encouraged to ask questions, speak up against anything we considered wrong and were granted social and freedom at relatively young ages. If possible, I would ask my parents to write a book on how they managed to be so liberal as patients while somehow raising the most well rounded children, if I do say so myself.
“There are actually a number of places my parents got it wrong.” -Nsikan
The only thing I would take away from the way my parents raised me was how strict they were with religion. You would think they were on the left and right hands of Jesus while he was on the cross. No songs, clothings, television programs or events not sanctioned holy in their heads were allowed while I was growing up. And if you were the one responsible for somehow bringing the devil into the home, oh boy, you might actually prefer death. Honestly, I don’t like remembering those days too much.
There are actually a number of places my parents got it wrong, but this religion thing, definitely the first place I’d note.
“My mom has the whole thing down to a science” – Husseinah
I grew up with my mom, who can I add is an absolute rockstar. She single handedly raised strong headed twin girls, with only the barest of outside help. She taught us to cook, change tyres, haul a jerry can of petrol, man, if anyone needs some training on self-sufficiency, look no further than my mother. If there was something I could change about her parenting style, I can’t think of it. She has the whole thing down to a science, I’ll forever be indebted to her. – Victor
“I won’t be making their mistakes” – Victor
I didn’t grow up with my parents. I was one of those children that attended primary and secondary boarding schools. They’ve been relative strangers my whole life. Though this had more to do with them living in a different state from where my schools were. It has made it virtually impossible to have any relationship short of perfunctory checking in and birthday wishes.
I have a child now, perfectly precious and just learning to walk. I’m considering homeschooling him, I want to spend every waking moment with him. My obsession with my child makes things a little hard from their perspective, but I guess things happen like that sometimes. I won’t be making their mistakes however.
Most Nigerian parent-child relationships are pretty straightforward. Here’s a typical conversation in the average Nigerian home between a parent and a child:
Parent: Do what I say.
Child: Okay.
Because the child doesn’t want to get thrown out of the house.
But variety, they say, is the spice of life. Sometimes, things need to be shaken up. As a child in a Nigerian home, it is your responsibility to challenge the status quo and keep things exciting by subtly giving your parents the middle finger. Here are a few ways you can do that.
1) Get a tattoo
Get one really large tattoo or a lot of small tattoos that cover so much exposed surface area that they know your chances of getting employed are close to zero.
2) Tell them you’re dropping out of school to follow your passion.
Make it even better by declaring that your passion is something wildly unorthodox (at least by Nigerian standards) or terribly cliche like rapper or porn star.
3) Tell them you’re gay.
A classic.
4) Tell them you don’t plan on getting married.
“Because hoe is life, Mother!”
5) Tell them you don’t plan on having kids.
“Something is REALLY wrong with you! YOU BETTER GIVE ME GRANDCHILDREN!!”
6) Spike the family dinner with weed.
Or replace the cooking salt with cocaine and record the hilarious hijinks that’ll ensue after consumption.
7) Tell them you’re now an atheist.
“My child is going to hell!”
8) Tell them you want to change your last name because it sounds like the noise a blender makes.
“So Gbajimiamila is suddenly too hard to pronounce abi? Get out of my house!”
If you have Nigerian parents like mine, asking for money was most likely a grueling and almost terrifying task. You try to prepare and brace yourself ahead of time, but the where, when, why and how combo will always leave you stunned. Here’s a few of their excuses!
As you’re there shivering, they’ll just be looking at you like…
You think I have money growing in the backyard?
Ah ahn, mummy. Only sometimes, now…
What happened to the money I just gave you?
When you’re hit with this question, confusion just sets in! Even if it has been three months since and they ask you, just pull out a pen and get ready to do some accounting. You’ve entered it.
Eh ehn… With your grades?
“Is it with D- in mathematics that you want to collect money? You can calculate money but not ordinary simple algebra??? My friend clear off!”
“When you’re always pressing phone.”
“Why won’t you need money when you are always pressing your phone?” Everything bad in life is because of the phone they bought for you, anyway.
Haven’t you been eating in this house?
But when did I start paying for food nah??? Even when asking for your own money, you have to be careful if you want to keep eating. Issa scam.
What are you even using money for?
Na wah o… Where do I even start?
Go and meet your mother/father.
Even when they know the other person isn’t around. Ugh!
Why didn’t you tell me since?
“And I just finished spending all the money I had o. Sorry.” Chei! But why?
Come and sell me/turn me to money.
Caution! Do not proceed!! Retreat!!!
I don’t have.
Cheee! This is the answer you meet at the final level. The painful boss. No chance to beg further, no progress, no explanation, just… no. You cannot argue with this, even if you see them with tons of money. Just accept your fate and go away. Slap is real.
But last last sha, all is for home training and in good faith, because they struggle too. Shout out to our amazing folks!
1. When you fail in school and your father says he doesn’t understand how a child of his can be so stupid.
Ah! Me! Seed of your loins!
2. When you do something wrong and your parents whoop your ass so hard you start to question your origins.
Where did I really come from?
3. Or they have you do some really insane punishments.
These people don’t really love me sha oh.
4. When you’re coming back from church with your parents and you ask to go to Mr. Biggs because you’re hungry but they tell you to shut up because there’s rice at home.
Chai.
5. When you mistakenly give your mother attitude and she’s like, “I brought you into this world and I CAN take you out of it!”
They can’t play with you again?
6. When they find out that you snuck out of the house to see your boyfriend/girlfriend and they’re like, “We know we did not raise an ashewo”
Jesus!
7. When your sibling does something wrong and blames it on you and your parents don’t believe you when you tell them the truth.
Check out all the things you stand to benefit when you move over to Etisalat’s EasyCliq 2.0. Click here or on the ‘Learn More’ button below to find out more about EasyCliq 2.0!
1. The face your parents make when you tell them what you do:
2. How your parents look at you when you start explaining what the job entails:
3. But internally they’re really like:
What is this child saying? I’m not hearing bank or firm. What kind of job is content developing? What content are they developing? Is it like an Estate Developer?
4. And then they are like, “But how much are they paying you?”
Because it’s really all about the money.
5. When they hear the amount and it’s a lot more than they expected:
6. When they hear the amount and it’s less than they expected:
7. Then they say, “So this is what you want to do with your life now?”
8. How they look at you when you try to explain that the job is your passion:
Is it passion you will eat?
9. When they keep telling you about “real” job vacancies:
But I already have a job na.
10. When you have to always remind them what you do:
.jpg)
