BORN IN AFRICA — THE UNWRITTEN CONTRACT

Nobody gives you a form to sign. You just arrive. Crying. And from that first cry, you have been hired. In Nigeria, being born is not an introduction, it is an induction. Welcome to the family business. Your life is no longer just yours. At first it is funny. At five, you can buy salt with your eyes closed. At ten, you know how to greet every uncle without mixing up titles. At eighteen, you are the family IT department, lawyer, and motivational speaker. Then you turn twenty and the contract starts showing its fine print. You must succeed. Not for you, but so your mother can say "my child did it" in the market. You must stay humble. Not too humble that they think you are failing, but humble enough that nobody calls you proud. You must remember everybody. Cousins you have never met, aunties who only remember you when they need help. That is the funny part everyone laughs at. But here is the emotional truth. We love our people so deeply that guilt has become our second language. You get paid and before you buy yourself something nice, you calculate who needs what. You want to say no, but the voice in your head says "if you don't do it, who will?" Then the hopeful part comes. Because despite the weight, there is pride. You realize you are strong. You can carry so much and still smile. You are the one they call when things scatter. That means they trust you. That means you are the light in your own family. But there are nights it gets sad. Nights you sit in your fine room, laptop on your lap, phone buzzing with requests, and you ask yourself quietly when will someone ask me how I am doing without adding "please send"? When will it be my turn to be taken care of? You feel selfish for thinking it, so you delete the thought and send the money anyway. Yet you keep going, not because you have to, but because you choose to. That is the purpose. The unwritten contract was never written to punish you. It was written to teach you love that costs something. Love that is not convenient. Love that builds. So if you are reading this and you feel tired from carrying everyone, you are not alone. You are not a bad person for feeling tired. You are just a child of Africa, doing what children of Africa have always done carrying home on your back while trying to find your way forward. Take a breath. You are doing better than you think. And it is okay to include yourself in the list of people you take care of.

Other insights from Favour Joseph Adi

Contributor Points

Points-to-Coupons

Referral Earning