THE UNTOLD TRAUMA OF BEING THE QUIET AFRICAN DAUGHTER
Plato, the Roman philosopher, once said, “Do not force children into paths they do not want to follow.” In my own interpretation, he was right. People are born differently, made differently, and ultimately created differently by our Maker. Because of this, our purposes can never be the same.
Many of us, because of childhood upbringing, have been deeply traumatized to the point where we neglect ourselves completely. While growing up, some of us were taught that real children never complained, explained themselves, or spoke in self defense because that would be seen as disrespect. Saying “I am tired” was almost a crime, and saying “I cannot go” was even worse. Every African child was expected to always be available at the beck and call of others, especially the girl child. We were taught that marriage was the ultimate priority in a woman’s life and that if you did not learn how to kneel and serve your spouse, then you would become a bad wife.
This was the life my mother familiarized me with, though many people complained about it. Research shows that it is comforting to come home and see a child running toward you for a hug, but to me, it never really mattered. My mother only wanted the best for me. She bought countless novellas because of my love for reading anything I could lay my hands on. I became so invested in reading that most times, I never ran outside to hug my mother when she returned home. I wrote a lot too, and she never complained. Instead, she was pleased that I caused no trouble in the neighborhood and was never seen roaming around with other children. I grew up with these habits and never saw them as a problem.
If there is one thing I dislike the most, it is comparison. I developed a deep interest in listening to people’s success stories, taking lessons from them, and moving on quietly with my life. People call me reserved. I often pretend like I am doing nothing, but deep down, I am using my time wisely.
There is also a childhood habit that has followed me all my life, and that is my inability to work with people or in groups. I prefer handling assignments on my own. I am more comfortable working with a woman than with a man. Working closely with men feels suffocating to me, maybe because I attended an all girls school or because I disliked men during my childhood years.
All these things are what make me appear nonchalant, when deep down, I care deeply about people. I feel sorry for individuals who are forced to live lives they were never created for because I know what it feels like to live according to people’s expectations instead of your own. Whenever I see people speak up freely, I smile because I cannot do the same. Speaking up often worsens situations for me, so I move in silence and let my actions speak instead.
I love people genuinely, and I believe in chastity and healthy grooming among teenagers and young adults. Boys should be taught how to protect girls, and girls should be taught the value of dignity and self respect.
I may appear flirty at times, but truly, I am just a free spirited person who wears fake smiles often while allowing my mind to do the real work.
To my mother, thank you for the healthy grooming.
Chidimma Writes
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