Being the first daughter in a Nigerian family is a lot, honestly. It comes with advantages and disadvantages but I will not delve into that. It also comes with lots of expectations. You are expected to lead your siblings, to be a really good figure that they can look up to and to be a parent figure when parents are not around. Anyway, the expectations are so much sometimes, it's like a choking bubble that someone can never get out of.
Last week, my dad accused me of not doing something. I had a position on a platform which is the Public Relations Officer. I was tasked with the responsibility of creating awareness about an upcoming program on the platform. Now, this platform had a sub platform with way more people, where I was truly active in but my dad was not aware of it. I posted flyers on this sub platform and created awareness, but my dad wasn't aware of this, so he accused me.
We were sitting in the parlor, discussing about Nigerian politics when my dad abruptly steered the conversation towards me.
“Joy, you are not doing anything on this platform. You don't post flyers. You don't communicate at all. How will people know that you are the PRO, ehn?”
His question caught me by surprise. I am usually a hot tempered person and when he threw this accusation or assumption (for a lack of word), I could feel my blood boiling slowly but I breathed in and out, and calmed myself.
“Daddy, who told you I'm not doing anything. I'm posting flyers and creating awareness where people can see it more. It's because you don't know, that's why you are accusing me.” I replied.
“I'm not accusing you. I'm just telling you what I know.”
“Well, daddy. It looked like an accusation. You could have just asked me first if I was doing my work instead of saying I wasn't doing anything like it is a fact.” While saying this, it reminded me of a few times when such had happened.
“I said I’m not accusing you, Joy.” My dad said calmly. He has always been a calm man, rarely ever losing his temper and maybe, that was why, he was always giving us room to vent our opinions.
“Okay, maybe it's an assumption then.” I replied. “You were assuming and your assumption wasn't true. Cause I'm doing a lot of work behind-the-scenes and you can't see it. And it's painful when you wouldn't even ask me before assuming, or acknowledging the stuff I do.” I reminded him of other times when I had actually shown up with evidences of efforts I had put into any task they gave me. My dad still went ahead to say he wasn't assuming or accusing. He said that he just said that to motivate and push me to do more. He said that all he said was in my best interests. He spoke very long about how much better I could do if I could just push myself to be more. I tried to make him understand that what I just really wanted was his praise and approval but my mum who had been quietly sitting, watching our dialogue, finally said in Yoruba,
“Won ki n sa yan niwaju e.” (They don't praise a person in front of them.) And it was true. My dad was very sparing with his praises. If he ever told you that you had done well, that means he was very very proud of you.
I felt little tears leaking out of my eyes, I get teary when I'm feeling extremely emotional, either sad or angry. I kept thinking that it was my fault that I didn't post on the platform where he was. I kept thinking that maybe I wasn't doing enough. I truly knew that he was just saying what he knew and that he was doing everything with my best interests at heart. But, still I wanted an apology and an acknowledgement that at least, I had tried. But I never got it. And life moved on. And I learnt a lesson that parents rarely ever apologize.
