“You May Be 30+, But I Can Still Spank You”: The Infantilisation of the Nigerian Adult

Abi Morocco, British Journal of Photography

“You may be 30+ years old but I can still spank you! Remember that”, my Aunty said.

We were talking about dresses.

Or something else mundane like the best Nigerian soup of all time or whether Idris Elba was really that fine. But whatever her opinion was in the topic, I differed strongly. Very strongly.

And I guess that meant I needed reminding that she could spank me, even though this has never happened in my lifetime. Light-hearted as the joke may be, it made me pause. Why do Nigerian parents (let’s call them the OG’s since my age mates are now also parents) feel the need to reinforce their power status even at the slightest perceived threat.

Don’t forget who’s the boss here. I can very easily put you in your place.

If you’re like me, you get the cue, laugh at the joke and move swiftly to the next topic.

But today, I want to talk about it.

Really talk about.

The Infantilisation of the Nigerian Adult.

As a fully grown adult, it doesn’t matter what you’ve achieved in life, what level of seniority you’ve reached in the corporate world managing people and large funds - you’re still a child. A child that needs to be told when to do things, where and how. I know women in their mid-30s with curfews that keep them tied to the home. God forbid you’re unmarried by then and in your father’s house, because you’ll need to be in bed by 9pm. Men in their 40s who were nursed by Mummy and Daddy’s bank accounts and never weaned off - a fate they both hate but are lost on how to break free of. There’s a cycle of control that the OG’s seems to be addicted to that doesn’t make sense both for them and for their kids. Who wants a middle-aged child still living in their backyard? Combine this with the Parentification of the Nigerian Child (if you’re a first born, I know you already know what I’m talking about), it gets even more confusing.

Keep Your Hand-Me-Downs

I’ve wondered about this for a while and my first theory was that perhaps this was the model handed down to them from their own parents and grandparents. But that can’t be possible, Nigerian kids were tilling the farm by 6 years old. If anything, we’re bordering on child labour issues here. My own father was part of the educated elite and still walked for hours every day in the 1940s/50s just to attend the only primary school in his vicinity. We had presidents and military leaders in their 30s ruling the country all through the late 20^th century. But tell an OG that someone in their 30s wants to run for president (or even governorship) NOW, and they will laugh out loud. Spew lies like that person can’t possibly have the experience or the intellect or the political clout to be a successful leader.

So scratch that theory.

Is Religion the Chokehold?

A second thought was the role of religion. You see, there are certain things that a Nigerian man or woman can’t do unless you’re under the holy institution of marriage. For men, certain positions of power (and salary standards) are reserved for those who have attained the married status and understand responsibility - I sincerely hope you’re picking up my sarcastic tone here. A woman who is not either living in her father’s house or her husband’s house must be wayward. I personally was at the backhand of this. As a girl in my early 20s living and working on my own in Abuja (Nigeria’s capital city), even my domestic staff were giving me side eye.

So could this possibly be true? Perhaps we are so steeped in the religious chokehold that “Obey your Elders” is a commandment not just for kids. It applies to every single person that is even a day older than you in every sphere of your life. How could you possibly know what’s good for you, your family and potentially the country when there is someone much older (and hence much wiser) who can dictate that for you.

I spoke to my mum and older family relatives about this in an upcoming podcast episode (shoutout to the best podcast “Family Meeting” for covering difficult topics) and they all said the same thing. It was always more about control and submission than anything else. For women especially, a sign of independence didn’t mean she was a prostitute with no home - it mean’t she would be too difficult for her husband to control. Even the husband’s close family will warn him:

“This one that she’s driving a big car, how will she respect you?” “Who will cook for you when she’s working so late” “This women will not submit to you - you have been warned!”

Which leads me to my last theory - and I must say, this may be a winner.

Control. Control. Control.

But the real question once again is why? Why all of a sudden this universal need among the OGs to control their offspring? It can’t just have sprouted out of the blue.

So I thought about the collective experience of that generation. The fact that they rode through the high of Nigeria’s Independence in 1960, only to be followed by 40 successive years of political chaos - a devastating civil war and 8 military coups. I have heard stories of the OGs glueing their ears to the radio sets because they never knew what (military) government would be in power when they woke up. Imagine the palpable optimism of oil boom and economic wealth in the 1970s, followed acutely by the poverty and purse tightening of the 1980s (many thanks for the IMF/ World Bank for introducing blindly their Structural Adjustment Programmes). If you think the state of the world now is on fire, imagine what it was like back then?

In a world of chaos, it is human nature to reinforce the little control that we have in the little sphere that we have. What would you do if your child wanted to take a job near where a paramilitary group just staged a violent coup? You would tell them to sit their fine ass at home where your eyes can be on them. No one wants to receive a lone letter at their doorstep saying their son was shot dead in the head on his way to work… a casualty of the resistance.

The need for control was borne out of survival.

And while understanding this can help you apply more grace, it can also help you stand firm where necessary. Because control is borne out of survival, NOT love. And it is our duty to build a life fulfilling and true for ourselves.