If you grew up in Nigeria, everything you are going to read is going to sound too relatable because you didn’t just grow up in Nigeria, you survived, thrived, and gathered stories you will be telling your children for a long time to come.
Growing up in Nigeria was a full-on cultural immersion, where discipline, tradition, and an unshakable sense of belonging shaped us.
Honestly, I didn’t know what was so different about being Nigerian until I started watching a lot of Western shows. I didn’t see kids kneeling to greet their parents or elders, and the parents never threw slippers at them, nor did they threaten them with their eyes only. We were different in many ways. We had structure; discipline was paramount, so was community, and education was a family pride. It became clear to me what it meant to be truly Nigerian.
The Nigerian Childhood Experience
I have this memory from my childhood. It’s Sunday morning, very early in the morning. I can hear my mom from the kitchen. Pots and pans clashing together. The smell of akara, frying, and ominous feeling that told me I needed to wake up. Why? Because chores were better done with sleep in one’s eyes. Sundays were for sanitation, and how dare I sleep while my mom cooks? I learned very early that in a Nigerian home, sleeping in was not an option. Still our parents always said we were lucky. Back in their day, they had to wake up even earlier to go to the farm to work for breakfast. So complaining? Also not an option.
The classic Nigerian parent guilt trip! No matter how hard we thought we had it, they had it worse. Complaining was like asking for extra chores.
Food, Family, and the Love Language of Nigerian Mothers
Food in a Nigerian home is more than just for nourishment. It was a love language, a test of endurance. A love letter from a mother to her family. So when your mom wakes up early to make akara and pap, you smile, eat, and you don’t complain. Even if you hate akara and pap, like I did. We were taught to appreciate everything put on our plate. To not be choosy or ungrateful, because “Do you know there are children who have nothing to eat?”
As a young woman in Nigeria, you were taught this love language. You were trained from a very early age how to feed your family, how to make this love language yours too. I can almost still hear my mom’s warning about what would happen to a woman who couldn’t cook. I remember sweating into the pot of semo the first time my mom tried to teach me. The lumps in the semo, and the slap I later received for failing to fix those lumps.
The pressure on young Nigerian women to master cooking is intense—it’s not just about feeding a family; it’s about proving your worth as a “proper woman.” A woman who can’t cook? Unacceptable. The battle against lumps in the semo was just one part of the training. There was always this expectation: If you can’t cook, your husband will starve! It’s not just about food; it’s about fulfilling your duty, keeping the family together, and proving you are capable.
The Challenges of Being Truly Nigerian
Being Nigerian comes with pride, but also with pressure. Society has a clear path mapped out for us—go to school, do well, become a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, or nothing else. And then marry. If you’re a woman, you must marry at a certain age, serve your family, and be perfect in everything. If you’re a man, you must get a good government job, marry a good wife, and be a provider. The weight of these expectations was often overwhelming, and the journey to meet them, heavy.
The good news is, times are slowly changing. While respect is still at the core of every Nigerian, young Nigerians are redefining and paving their paths, proving that culture can evolve without losing its essence. The journey is not easy, and for many, it’s been a struggle. There’s always a battle between tradition and ambition, between following family expectations and pursuing personal dreams. But no matter the obstacles, young Nigerians are pushing forward, showing that you can honor your roots and still chase your dreams.
The Nigerian Spirit: Resilience, Joy, and Pride
No matter the struggle—the corrupt leader, the fuel price hike—we will always find a way to be fine. I watched my parents grow up, working tirelessly to provide for our family, always believing that the future would be brighter. That resilience is in every Nigerian. We know how to endure, to push through, no matter what life throws at us.
Another thing about Nigerians: we will laugh about everything. We love to laugh. It’s our coping mechanism. From social media banter, memes, to market men and women cracking jokes amidst inflation, laughter is woven into the fabric of our culture. It’s how we heal and carry on. Even when times are hard, Nigerians find a reason to laugh—because at the end of the day, we believe that tomorrow will be better.
Most importantly, Nigerians take pride in everything Nigerian. The food, the music, the language. We may argue, complain, and criticize, but at the end of the day, everybody comes home to Nigeria.
As I reflect on what it means to be truly Nigerian, I realize that it’s not just about the memories we all carry. It’s about the impact it has had on all of us. It’s about our values, the traditions we uphold, and the culture we pass down. No matter what changes, our heritage remains a part of us.
Written by: ZAINAB KABIR TALATA
