The other day, I watched a scene that broke my heart.
A mother was shouting from her compound.
“Oche! Oche! Come back here! Is that how I raised you?”
Her son, just 13, trousers sagging, earphones plugged in. He snapped back, “Mummy abeg no start. I’m not a baby. You sef no dey understand anything again.” He turned and left, just like that. The mother slumped in her plastic chair. Defeated.
I stood there thinking, what happened to the days when the sound of your father’s footsteps entering the compound would make your blood freeze. When respect flowed like water from a borehole? When family was family? Those days feel far away.
Today, in too many Nigerian homes, that picture of Oche and his mother is replayed daily. Children don’t listen. Parents are exhausted. Spouses drift apart and live like flatmates. Families feel more like war zones than safe havens. And yet, God made us stewards of these children. Proverbs 22:6 did not say, “Outsource a child.” It said, “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”
The question is: are we training? Or are we just surviving?
Think about this for a moment. If you and your spouse vanish today, who or what will raise your children? It won’t be some future guardian in your will. It’s whoever or whatever already has their ears right now. Whoever spends the most time with them. Whoever holds their attention. Whoever influences their thinking.
And that could be you, social media, the streets. YouTube, TikTok or their peers.
In old Nigeria, parenting was a community project. The whole village raised the child. Your neighbor could flog you and your parents would thank them and add extra strokes when you got home. Nobody questioned it. Values were collective. The community backed up the home.
Today, try correcting another person’s child and you may end up in a police station or trending online as “Wicked Aunty.” The village has scattered. Cities swallowed families. Social media content creators have become the new models. Peer pressure has become the new pastor. The streets have become school. It is a battle for the soul of the Nigerian family.
And if that is not enough, have you noticed how many parents now outsource the raising of their children to schools and teachers? Infants as young as six months are being dropped at creche because the mother must resume work. By primary school, some are already in boarding houses. What time has that child had to bond with their parents? I know families who can’t wait for the holidays to end, just so they can “ship” the children back to school. Parenting has become a burden they are too eager to hand to strangers. The damage is serious. Such children grow up seeing their parents as house captains, not anchors, with very little emotional attachment. Some wealthy parents even send nine-year-olds abroad alone. The outsourcing is complete.
But this is not only a Nigerian problem. Plato warned long ago: “Don’t force your children into your ways, for they were created for a time different from your own.” Our children are facing a Nigeria we never knew, yahoo boys, hookup culture, cultism, drugs, endless hustle. We can’t drag them back to the past. But we can guide them into the future with love, discipline and presence.
Presence is the starting point. Not just presents, but presence. Children know the difference. You can pay school fees and still fail as a father. You can buy cakes and clothes and still fail as a mother. Put down the phone, sit down and listen. Enjoy dinner with your children without scrolling phone screens. Spend 15 minutes one-on-one. Laugh. Play. Walk. As parents, we should understand that children spell love as T-I-M-E. Are you there, really there?
Accountability comes next. Parents must live what they preach. Don’t scream at your daughter to dress decently while you’re watching Telenovela with scenes you won’t be proud to show your pastor. Your children are watching you more than they are hearing you.
Then comes the relationship with God. You can’t pour from an empty cup. Pray with your children. Let them see you go to Mass, receive Communion, kneel in reverence. If your children only know your temper and not your faith, you have failed them.
Examples are critical. You don’t need to be perfect, but be real. Say sorry when you’re wrong. Say thank you. Forgive. Teach integrity by showing it. Children don’t learn values from lectures. They learn them from our lives.
Nurture is daily work. Children are like plants. They need watering with hugs, discipline, encouragement, correction and love. In this hard Nigeria, that’s how you build strength, strength that keeps boys from cults and girls from the destructive lure of “runs” life.
And finally, teamwork. Parenthood is not a one-man hustle. The husband and wife must agree. Pray together. Discipline together. Don’t let children divide you. The devil uses silence and ego to scatter families. Don’t allow it.
The bigger picture is this: if our homes are weak, Nigeria is weak. Confucius once said, “The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.” If the home collapses, the nation collapses.
And we must also plan ahead. Life is uncertain. Love is not only hugs; it is also preparation. Write a will. Appoint a guardian. Don’t leave your children to strangers or the courts. Responsible parenthood includes planning for when you’re no longer here.
So, dear parent, stop and ask yourself today: who is really raising your child right now? Is it you or the streets? Is it prayer or peer pressure? Is it YouTube or your example?
We can turn this around. Start small. A prayer tonight. A family meal tomorrow. A hug that says, “I see you.” Step by step, family by family, we can rebuild the village that once raised the child. Because Nigeria cannot rise if our children are falling.
