Growing up in an African home is truly an extreme sport. From learning how to decipher what your mother’s ‘eye language’ means to understanding your fathers silence…
I personally think our parents attended town hall meetings where they gathered and shared tips on how to raise us because after reading peoples posts on Twitter & trading stories with some friends, we all have similar stories to tell.
what are the odds eh?
There are things you dare not do in an African home or even expect from your African parents. Imagine expecting your African parent to apologize to you when they are clearly wrong.
Or waiting for them to hand over the money your aunt/uncle “gave you” during their visit. We all know that the money goes into the “bank account” they opened for us now don’t we? 😂
If you insist, you’ll hear the infamous ‘all the food you’ve been eating, where do you think it’s from”?
Is there anyone reading this who got away with slamming the door right after their parent(s) gave them a proper scolding or beating as the case may be?
I can bet that whoever tried it got an extra beating for that. Ooh I remember all the times my mum would call me from wherever I was just to go back to that same area or close by to get her something.
I often wondered why she never just yelled what it was she wanted along with my name and saved me the stress of double journey. Sigh!
Growing up in an African home
You see, every African parent came first in class, so it was a huge abomination for you their child not to always come first too. Till date, I’m still yet to meet any parent who came 2nd or 3rd.
How can I forget! Seeking permission to attend sleepovers, birthday parties, visiting friends etc needed special rehearsals. You dare not ask your parents a few days before the event. Your chances of getting a mild no are higher when you ask months before.
Few days before and you’re sure to get a resounding no and maybe a knock on the head or an ear twisting.
Guys, I don’t want people to think it was all gory growing up in African homes so let me throw in some of the good stuff.
Festivities were such a big deal growing up. You got new clothes, shoes and even chunky pieces of chicken just because.
Another key thing to note is, every African household had one or two relatives who lived with them permanently.
Hmmm, I wonder if anyone of us ever had the guts to introduce our boyfriends/girlfriends (if any) to our parents while we were still in school and by school I mean uni. That person is just a friend at all times. Kids if you’re reading this, remember that.
For our parents it’s finish school then marriage. No dating whatsoever 😂
African parents never had the talk with their kids. It was like an unspoken rule, a taboo. For those wondering what the talk is, it’s sex education. African parents would rather do backflips than have that talk with their kids.
For those parents that attempted to, I bet you heard things like “if a boy touches you, you will get pregnant and die” 🤷♀️
If you see this look, just know you are done for. Next time you won’t accept food at a party even if your mum said it was okay to.
Confusing right? Well that’s how it happened growing up. You need to understand that your mum might be saying yes, but her eyes are saying NO lol.
African dads!!!! The real OGs. Always silent, observing, waiting for you to step out of line so he can put you back in line gladly with his
Did someone say privacy? I laugh in “you dare not lock this door in my house”.
It’s funny how we can now look back at some of the things our parents did while we were growing up and laugh because at the time, many of us thought our parents hated us & contemplated running away from home, but I’m sure so many of us are grateful because how we grew up really shaped and prepared us for some of the things we are dealing with now.
I could go on an on about things that happened while growing up in African homes but we don’t want this post to be too lengthy do we? So let’s continue in the comment section below.
I would really appreciate it if you guys shared some of your experiences growing up.
If you enjoyed this post then you will love this post as well —> “When will you marry”
Till my next post, stay you, stay beeeyuteeful
I had a lovely childhood. Guess I was lucky. The only times I was flogged with belt oh was because of Waka waka when enter midnight. No regrets childhood for me.
LMAO, guess our parents attended the same town hall
I can totally relate with am this… You dare not say you are visiting a friend.. You’ll hear has that friend ever visited you in your house.. These are sweet memories of growing up
Lmaooooo so true. Kai our parents really did us strong thing back then o
True. Except for the flogging with belt part. Was always with a cane in my family
Lmao, that eye thing my mum used to do it a lot. Just one look at you know you’ve entered.
I remember the festivities, I hate most of them because all I did was spend my entire day in the kitchen, helping my mum cook food for half of Nigeria (pun intended).
Like we only had a handful of visitors on Christmas day, yet this woman will cook jollof rice, fried rice, white rice and stew, different soup, some times even bake. The whole Christmas day we would spend inside kitchen, I used to wonder whether it was Jesus’s birth we were celebrating or the end of a famine because of the amount of food we cooked.
I got flogged a number of times but the most memorable ones were 1. Because of man- I had a boyfriend I was close to and they warned me to stay away from home, one day they say is talking and that was it. I was flogged to the moon and back. 2. The second time was when mum found some harlequin romance novels sticking out of my bag, the title was quite raunchy, I was flogged for reading such books. Lmao
See there are so many memories mehn.
This post made me laugh alot. Thanks for writing.
Oh dear. Those are the worst , spending the festivities in the kitchen. I can relate but just a bit. Ehhhh your mum saw your harlequin books? Dear lool
They really attended the same Town hall meeting. That look they give I just really wonder how we understood what it meant. It was always like a manual reset for me. There was curfew at home. You cant just be out and get carried away. You must be checking your wrist watch.
It was a manual reset for us all lol
My mum still does the eye message no strength to talk. Lol Everything is so relatable
Lol most mums still do