African parents see themselves as demigods who know everything and can never be wrong. Even when they are proven wrong, they try to come up with excuses why it's your fault that they are wrong (talk about gaslighting! 😅). They forget that they are humans and no human is perfect, we make mistakes and a lot of times we tend to be wrong about something we were so sure of.
Over the years, I have had lots of experiences where my parents were outright wrong about what they were so confident in and 80% of those times, my mom was the culprit. We are always getting into arguments in mostly matters that relate to health. Sometimes, she's wrong about the things she says but some other times, she talks about some very ridiculous stuff that just doesn't make sense when you really think about it.
I do try to correct her on some of those misconceptions which she gets from social media but most of the time, she's very stubborn 😅. My dad isn't innocent of saying wrong things too but the good thing about him is that he concedes defeat whenever he is proven wrong, but my mom? Never. So, first of all, I will talk about the time my parents were actually right and this happened just last week.
Right time
We recently changed the main control switch in my house from a regular wall socket to a change-over switch. We use a couple of heavy powered equipment such as electric stoves and kettles which in the long run led to the main wall socket burning on New Year's Day. We quickly called an electrician who advised us to just get a good change-over rather than buy a new wall socket, which we did.
But last week Thursday night, the lights in our apartment were tripping on and off, my dad kept saying that it was the new change-over switch that was causing it but I argued that it wasn't, “something that was just fixed a few days ago? It can't be it”, I replied. At that instant, the electricity in the whole street went off, further proving my point. “You see? The fault is probably from the transformer, and it has affected the whole street.”
The next morning, power was restored and ours came on as usual, so the problem definitely wasn't from the change-over switch…or so I thought. On Monday night, our light started tripping off and on again, until it eventually went off. My dad still argued that it was from the change-over switch but I checked it and saw nothing wrong. Meanwhile, I later realized that only our apartment was affected as all other apartments had light.
The next morning, I checked the change-over switch again, especially the main wires that were connected by the side and still, I didn't see anything wrong with the wiring. But after looking at it carefully, I noticed another pair of black and red wires connected from the top. I climbed a chair so I could properly take a look at the wire and that was when I saw the problem; the black wire was completely burnt off. I managed to quickly fix it and tightened the screws before power was restored that morning. I didn't say a word about it to my dad, I don't want to give him the luxury of saying “I said it!” 😂
Wrong time
Remember when I said me and my mom always get into arguments about health? Well, you won't be surprised to know that she loves traditional medicine A.K.A agbo, A.K.A roots and herbs. According to her, it works better than regular drugs. Last December, she cooked up another portion of herbs and forced everyone to drink. It got to my turn and as usual, we first had to fight before I agreed. She kept explaining that it was for my own good because it would help to wash out my sister and remove anything that would make me fall sick. Fine, I agreed and for 3 days I had to endure the bitter taste of agbo.
A week later, I started having symptoms that indicated I was about to fall sick. I know the usual signs of malaria and how my body starts reacting to it in the early stages but I refused to believe that was the case. “Me that drank agbo just last week? No na, I can't fall sick”, I said to myself. I decided to leave it till the next day and see what happens, maybe I was just stressed. The next day, it got worse and I could barely eat. I had to go to a nearby chemist to get malaria drugs.
I patiently waited for my mom to get back from work that day so we could resume our argument. “You didn't drink it well,” she replied after I told her that the miracle drink she cooked did nothing. Was I supposed to say a little prayer before I drank it? I then told her that I'm never drinking traditional medicine again because they aren't doing anything, I rather stick with modern ones that are tested and trusted. I know that she is still undeterred in her quest to keep giving us her concoction, coz I went to the kitchen earlier today and met a pot full of the stuff she cooked up last night. Well, it looks like we will start another round of fights when she comes back from work tonight, and this time I won't agree. Fellow Nigerians, you remember the motto of 2024, right? No gree for anybody 😂
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