Don’t Tie A Noose Around Our Necks
The Struggle of Making Decisions and Breaking Free of Parental Dictatorship As An African Teenager
African parents are believed to be God-like figures to their children, tasked with the duty of protecting, directing, and nurturing us into responsible adults that conforms to the norms of society.
The problem with this herculean task is that it comes with the stamp of a dictatorship rule that doesn't evolve with the changing times. It rarely takes the form of a democratic rule except when forcibly demanded or a coup is staged.
This dictatorship rule suffocates the home and demands undying loyalty and absolute acceptance of its decrees even when it’s not in everyone’s best interest.
It considers not, our maturity, self-growth, nor the need for children to make individual choices and find a path that’s uniquely theirs, rather it imposes its demands and insists on submissive followership.
It's a crazy little colonial world to live in and I have tasted firsthand what it feels like to grow up in this world.
My father is one of these dictators, and it hurts so much to keep fighting with him over everything. He and I don’t have the best relationship because of issues like these.
In time past, I struggled with every decision I made because it somehow didn't sit right with either of my parents who thought they knew what was best for me.
Naturally, I took some of the changes and dictations in stride, but eventually, it evolved into a full-blown war between us when I refused to conform to their - “that’s not what’s best for you, speeches.”
They dreaded that I was making the biggest mistake of my life and chose to shove theirs down my throat without actually giving me room to explore my choices and experience the outcomes for myself.
So, I rebelled.
They had tied the noose of their dictatorship around my neck for so long, a slight change in my life plans became unacceptable and demanded an explanation. Making choices different from theirs resulted in a full-out unending war, so I ask; Aren't children — girl child or not — wired to seek different paths in life?
It irritated me to death that they didn't want to see reason with me or that my reasons weren't sufficient to back up my decisions.
Did it matter? Reasoning didn't matter to me. Their reception of my choices did.
I knew that if I allowed their intimidating stares to break my resolve, I would forever stay tethered to their words, which was worse than standing up for myself.
Desperate for control and independence, I chose the latter and dug my confidence out of the closet, but it only escalated things.
Regrettably, these silent wars we fought left me more drained than the actual decision I made itself. The constant tug of war, the threats, fearmongering and subtle innuendo that I'd fail if I walk the tightrope of this chaotic and wicked life on my own, and the death stare thrown my way became the bane of my existence in my teenage years.
By giving in to their compulsion to protect my siblings and me and steer our lives on the right path without considering our opinions, my parents inevitably hung our necks on a pillory and left us dangling from the weight of their rulership.
The constant hassle over whose decision should lord over our lives left us in despair because we had minds of our own but were never given the choice to decide what we wanted.
Unconsciously, this caused a great dilemma in my heart as a young teenager, which inadvertently took a toll on my self-confidence. I second-guessed every decision for fear of actually failing and doing something wrong.
As much as I wanted to stand up for myself, I didn't want to fail.
The need to go all out to prove my father wrong became my checklist for self-assessment as a young adult which was wrong, terribly exhausting, and a colossal waste of time because I learned the hard way that there will always be two sides to a decision coin. The flip side of failure and success.
And I've experienced both.
Maturity hasn’t made the rulership any easier but being a very reserved person who has built a wall of resilience around her heart, it was easier to swim through the threats, the bad jokes, and the disapproving stares which somehow helped me gain a bit of self-independence from them.
But my siblings haven’t. At least, not yet.
I see them struggling to untie themselves from the nooses around their necks while leaning toward any side that favored their decisions at any point. It damn well shouldn’t have to be like that.
I may not have the best relationship with my parents — my dad especially, nor do I have total independence either, maybe till I’m ninety— but I have learned to live by the rules and principles I set for my life.
It's the hardest sh*t I've had to deal with all my life, but I stopped trying to prove anything long ago and simply enjoyed the pleasures of my life.
Exploring my path has been wrought with challenges, but the fulfillment of learning from my experiences has kept me going. Pain has dealt me a heavy hand, but love has healed my heart. Failure has filled my eyes to the brim and success and put a smile on my face. Hardship has knocked me flat on my ass, but resilience has lifted me again.
So, yeah. I’m damn proud that I chose to break free and explore my life on my terms.
There are too many emotions I've passed through in life that I'm most grateful for because they’ve made me better. If asked to rewind time and do it again. I wouldn’t change a thing in the script.
As an African child, the luxury of democratic parenting isn't freely given. It has to be earned the right way by doing their bidding, demanded by proving yourself worthy despite their objections, or shutting them out and doing you.
I chose the latter. Still, it isn’t all that simple to deal with.
We don't have the luxury of just leaving home or yelling out our views — as we see in the movies — without bringing the roof down our heads, so we tend to ignite a fire, stoke it, and watch it burn until it is bright enough to be seen and recognized.
It hurts because a percentage of African children are estranged from their parents as a result of demanding independence, asserting their personal choices, and surrendering to the dire need to make find their paths.
I’m tired of having this noose around my neck. Tired of waiting for their acceptance of my choices, and exhausted with thinking that it somehow affects my life.
Our parents will always have their opinions, and it doesn’t have to take a coup to get them to see our side of things. All I’m asking is that they find a balance between parenting us and allowing us to find our paths. We should be given the room to explore life as much as we want and fail as many times as possible.
I'm still but a young adult, trying to explore the many opportunities life presents me. I should be allowed to walk the tightrope on my own with a slight nudge here and a word of advice there, but not a full-on takeover.
This military style of upbringing that takes only a coup to break free isn’t worth it in the long run. I love my parents, but at this time, and for the sake of my sanity, I’ll take my chances at life with or without their support.
My life choices are mine to make, but still, it'll be nice to share my joys, failures, successes, and drawbacks with the people I care so much about. Maybe someday I will.
I hold no regrets over my actions and wish that someday, we’ll look back at this time and have a good laugh over chilled bottles of beer, sharing tales of our self-absorbed excessiveness.
Sincerely, I wish for a time like that. But if that time never comes, I know I lived a full life without regrets.
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