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As Told By Ada is a Culture Custodian weekly series exploring the unique and often chaotic experience of navigating life as the oldest daughter in a Nigerian household. Over the course of these mini therapy sessions, we give you a peek into the ups, downs and lingering effects of growing up “the first”. My […]
My childhood was very … colorful. Most of my early years were spent in Port Harcourt. My dad worked and lived in Lagos so I didn’t really grow up with him in the house; he usually stayed for about two weeks and then left. He worked in Eket for a few years, and then they moved him to Lagos when I was about 6 years old, so it just made sense for all of us to move with him.
Personally, I don’t think my parents have the ability to parent on their own.
I had many parents. A lot of people lived in our house. I had aunties that would stay for NYSC, relatives that stayed while they were in school, and my mom’s younger sister was always there. Different people dropped me off at school, I had people I used to stay with after school when my parents were not around — I was just always with somebody that wasn’t my parent.
I didn’t really mind their absence; I used to talk to anybody that was willing to talk to me.
A lot of people that were the only child for some time before their siblings were born received some sort of special treatment, but I never got that — having many parents meant that I had many siblings. Cousins, neighbors, godchildren, any child that was attached to whatever adult was caring for me. When my younger sister was born, the only difference between her and the other children was that she didn’t have any house to go back to; she was just always there.
We had a very turbulent relationship for many years. If my sister did anything to upset me, I would just beat her up, not minding our six year age gap. My parents would be so alarmed and angry about it, but they used to do exactly the same thing to me, so I didn’t understand what they were so upset about.
If I did something wrong, they would beat me. If I played too rough and got injured, on top of the injury they would still beat me. I was too young at the time to process my anger and understand that I wasn’t supposed to be hitting a fucking toddler. I had a very violent period … I had to sit myself down in JSS2 and decide that it was time to stop beating people up.
It was just what I used to see at home; once you do something that makes somebody unhappy, the next thing is shouting and beating. I don’t like confronting people publicly because I didn’t like how it felt when my parents shouted at me in public, so when I was younger, I just used to get physical really quickly.
In primary school I got suspended for beating someone up and then when I got home, what did my dad do? He beat me up. It was a ridiculous, violent cycle.
In JSS1, I beat this guy up and it wasn’t funny at all … he kept apologizing for a while after, but beating him made people scared of me and they started avoiding me. That was what made me talk to myself.
It’s not very easy to bully me because of the way I was raised, and I guess that’s sort of an upside to that kind of upbringing but at the same time, I have a lot of walls up. It’s very hard to get through to me – I have to make a conscious effort to listen to people, which is very strange because I also have a people pleasing problem. I have a close circle of friends, all first daughters (except one) and that’s sort of a support system for me. I’m completely vulnerable with them.
I went to a boarding school for secondary and because of that, I was exposed to different people’s family dynamics. I discovered a lot of things for the first time. I discovered that people used to play with their parents and siblings, that they didn’t beat everyone up at home, and just a lot of other things that sort of rewired my brain chemistry.
On my own, I started analyzing my family dynamic and started trying to unlearn a lot of things. My roommate told me that her parents had never hit her before and I was stunned. As I spoke to more people, I realized that all the beatings were actually not normal and that people were actually happy and they weren’t pretending.
When my friends’ parents came to school, they were friendly with me, not just with their own children. It was in secondary school I realized that you could joke and laugh with adults. During visiting days, my friends wouldn’t even come to my family’s table because my dad was terrifying and my mom didn’t care to talk to anybody. I think my parents’ brains were also kind of reset when they saw me interact with other people’s parents.
It was also in secondary school that I realized people actually liked their siblings. My immediate younger sister and I are much closer now; I tell her everything and she does the same with me.
I have two much younger twin brothers. They’re the youngest children in my family and they’re about 4 years old now. I don’t know what my parents told people, but my mom didn’t give birth to them. I personally don’t know how they came about.
While I was in university, my parents called me and told me over the phone that they were adopting twin boys. Around that time, they had been saying that they needed sons, as if my sisters and I weren’t enough. They did not ask for my input on the twins’ adoption, which enraged me because we all knew I would be the ones raising those children. We had such a huge fight about this adoption that I blocked them both for months and extended family members were calling me.
I was angry about the adoption, but at the same time, I was angry about something else — shortly before the adoption, I had found out about my dad’s infidelity. I had told my mom, but everyone had simply acted like it was normal, even my sisters who were aware of it before I even found out. It was then I realized that my parents really didn’t care what we knew, what we didn’t know, what kind of childhood they were giving us, genuinely they didn’t give a damn. They were just doing whatever.
Initially when the twins came, I ignored them completely and just carried on living my life like they didn’t exist. It took a while for me to come around, but babies are babies and they didn’t really do anything to me. They are happy, obedient children. Very easy babies. They love when people say I’m their mommy.
The way I reacted to the saga was much different from the way my sister reacted because we were raised very differently. I was the guinea pig. There was a lot of trial and error with me. They sent me to schools to get a feel of the place before they sent my sisters and I had to do everything; all the excursions, all the common entrance exams, beadmaking classes, makeup classes, everything. With my sisters, they were more relaxed with academics and they let them do only things they were interested in doing. With me, they were determined to create the ‘perfect child’, an all-rounder.
I still do a lot of random things till today. I don’t know how to rest. I always have to have a job or something to do to take up my time. My sisters on the other hand, have no issue resting. They have several safety nets and they don’t feel as pressed to be on top of everything and work nonstop. If they can’t do something, I will help them do it and if I can’t do it, one of my parents will.
As for my brothers, I don’t think my parents are raising them at all. My sisters and I are doing the raising, actually. That’s the issue with having children in old age. My parents are retired and they’re trying to do their own thing, nobody their age is dragging a baby around that they can’t drop somewhere. They do school runs and all that, but when it comes to the smaller things like doing homework with them, teaching them ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, it’s all me.
By secondary school I had already realized the gravity of being the oldest. Around JSS 3 it occurred to me that if something happened and my sisters couldn’t fall back on my parents, we were cooked. If my dad died for example, and family members come to drag his property with us, what are we going to do? Or if my parents got divorced? What can my mom do for work? She’s a princess! She can’t do anything!
I was depressed for like 7 years from around when I was 11. I didn’t like journaling at that time because I didn’t want to remember. My parents didn’t even know there was something wrong with me, they just thought I was a bad child that hated my siblings. I’m very good at acting like everything is fine as well. Even if I had just been crying, I would clean my tears and move. Towards vacations and end of school sessions, I would be so sad because I didn’t want to go back home. That feeling stayed until I was done with university. I liked anything that involved me leaving the house because genuinely, who could I talk to at home?
My mom is very avoidant. There was a day when it was just both of us in the house. Not just the room we were in, the entire house. I tried to ask her if the twins were born through a surrogacy and she started shouting that I was trying to embarrass her. I was so confused. Because of the way she reacted to that question, we never really had further conversations about it and till today I’m in the dark about the origin of those babies.
Today, my dad and I kind of have a good relationship. Kind of. He still makes it very clear that he’s not one of my friends, but he’s the first person I would call if I needed help and I’ve recently started missing him when I don’t see him for a while. My mom and I don’t really have that relationship. We used to be closer, but now we’re not and I don’t know when the shift happened.
You know how they say girls with daddy issues end up in the worst romantic situations because they always aim to please? I feel like it’s real. For me, it’s worse because I’m fully aware of what is going on. I’m currently in a shitty situation and I know how to come out, I know what to do — block him, have a conversation, cut him off — but I love him! How do I want to explain it?
Friendships on the other hand, I am very good at. It’s a part of my life that I really cherish; my friends are my safe space. I treat my friends like my family and I take friendships very seriously.
I’m not sure I really want children, just based on my own childhood. To be a good parent, you need to exercise a lot of patience. It’s a no brainer. You have to be patient with children.
For a large portion of my life, I was depressed. I may be neurodivergent, so I’m a bit more prone to depression but I believe that the way I was raised pushed me into depression. The upside to all the things I’ve been through though, is that I don’t stay down for long, I always pick myself back up.
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