About Raising Entitled Kids…

Kinjiko? Sho gbo?

When I saw the trending video of the ekiti man that denied his son from following him home because of coro, I compared and somewhat interchanged him with the other trending Zambian father who spent 21k$ on his son and the boy chose not to show up for his exams.
Here, we see two examples of parenting and tough love in display.

The ekiti father whose action seemed harsh but firm has become a state champion while the other father got summoned by Zambian police for child molestation.
You see, if it was the ekiti man that gave birth to that boy in the video who didn’t show any sign of remorse and still sat as his father was beating him, that boy would have turned out better. Because I’m sure the ekiti man would give him quality education but would never send him to a 21k$ school and he’d have grown up to respect his parents.

Bringing that situation home, I compared that man to my own parents too. Now, parents as they grow older are known to relax their tough stance on their younger kids for no good reason. While they raise their older kids very firm and unbending in their principles, when you see their last kids, you wonder if those ones actually came out of the loins of same parents. But in this ekiti man’s case, apparently old age didn’t make him lose his firmness in raising properly behaved kids.

After I left the university, I began to see things in my parent’s last two kids that made me wonder if they lost touch with their parenting skills.
While we, the older ones were raised with canes, punishment and firmness, our younger ones were raised without canes or firmness. They got all the good things of life on a platter of gold.
My mother once locked her soup in the kitchen when I was disobedient to her. After my SSCE while waiting for admission, she employed me as a sales girl without pay. She only paid me with hi-malt/maltina and hot bread sometimes. I went to agbeni, dugbe alawo, orita merin to buy goods to stock up her shop. She took me round and showed me to her customers and every little mistake I made in buying blue instead of red got me a lot of tongue lashing. I was naturally lazy growing up, but not on my mother’s watch. She was able to chase some of the laziness away.

We were not spared from her cane either. Dad never caned but you’d pray that he should never invite you for ‘the talk’ where you will smell yourself.
Growing up, they didn’t even have money. He was just a struggling public servant, both of them. I got sent out of school few times for school fees. There were good times and bad times while I was growing up.

Even in my part three, didn’t I stay in Canaan hostel for a semester on the goodwill of my friend, Tobi Tella when there was no money at home? It was so bad that exam was approaching and I had not paid my school fees….40k then. Was it not my friend Ashollie that spoke to another friend who borrowed me money to pay after sitting for the first paper and we were sent out? Was it not in Dr T’s room I used to go and eat yam and egg? Was it not me and Bukky that lived together that year? I can write a whole book about that semester. The times we went to bed hungry. The time she wanted to surprise me by cooking beans because we were both hungry and I had slept like that. She slept off too and it was the smoke that woke us close to midnight.

All these things made me grow up. I saw life from both ends. So when life also tilted to the good direction again, it started when I was in part four on IT and by part five, my wardrobe was a supermarket and I lived in one of the best hostels around. The best in my entire five years in that school.
But this is not the gist. The gist is about the way they raised their last kids. They raised these ones as if they forgot their parenting skills or lost it as they aged.
My mother’s son, the dark one once shared on our siblings WhatsApp group how he forgot to go and write his entrance exam at Uniosun. Why? Bee la n bini.

Dude woke up, got dressed after his parents left for a function and started watching film. Yes, he went to put on the gen and watched film till late afternoon before he remembered.
Even though I laughed at the story when he told it but it wasn’t funny then. He lost admission that year because of ‘feem’. He later went to Osu and his least qualification now is Msc from same school.

Dude started driving by always collecting the car from mechanic on their way to repair. He was in Ss2-3. He bashed the car severally and left it for his parents to repair. He drove off to see his friends.

The first time I drove was when I finished university. And when I bashed the car, I ran away from home. That was the sane thing to do if you were raised in the 80s by yoruba parents. My brother bashed cars severally, even got arrested for wrong driving and he always got away with it.


But this one eventually grew up.

The worst ones are the last borns. Say what? These ones don’t experience any hardship because by the time they are born, life has already changed for good in the family. Last born got driven to his high school in a Mercedes Benz when it was the best car of the season. Dude lived in a 150-200k apartment at ile Ife while I lived in a 30k bedspace hostel, the highest I ever paid till I graduated.
I got home one day and saw dude wearing this huge wristwatch. Dude is fair. So let’s call him the fair one. I moved close and told him I liked his watch. He looked at it casually and muttered his thanks

‘how much did you get it?’
’30k’, he replied
I almost fainted. Because I was on IT in Lagos that year and my salary was 7k while commuting from Ketu Alapere to Oshodi-Isolo everyday.
One time, the fair one got angry and went to lock himself in the guest toilet at home for hours. His parents got worried and came to call me to beg him to come out. Youdonmeanit!!!!
I just strolled back to my bedroom. His mother was even crying. Very funny. Someone that when hunger wire him, he will come out. They were now fussing over him.

By the time he came to live with me in Abuja, I saw weeen. Dude would lock me out of my own house to go and watch ball. I’d return from church to find my door locked. We had only one key. He will pick after plenty rings. Thirty minutes later, he will stroll in casually to open my door then head back to finish watching the ball.
When he was about leaving for law school, dad paid his school fees into my account and told him. Dude started collecting it little by little, 5k here, 10k there.

I came home one day to discover he had carried my box and a new bedsheet. When I confronted him, he said he needed it and he had no time to go and buy. But shouldn’t you ask me first? I was livid. Dude didn’t show any emotion. I called his father and raked. He begged me to come get another box from his office the next day. When I saw this beautiful modern version of the box which he got from sahad stores, all my anger vanished. When dude saw it sitting pretty on my wardrobe, he began to keep malice with me.
This fair one’s entitlement mentality was so mind numbing.

This post is getting so long so I will continue this labare in the next post.


She has won many awards in writing and poetry amongst which are CLO essay competition (1st Prize Southwest) NDIC essay competition(5th Prize in the southwest) and a World Bank Essay Certificate of Participation She has worked with woman.ng as a content editor and a host of sites as a ghost writer. She has written great inspirational content for fashion brands/blogs. She has been featured on radio and recently added public speaking to her portfolio. You can hire her to write a professional/business profile for you, online content editing, book editing, guest blogging, ghostwriting, content creation or if you need copies of her book, contact her via nikeolasiyan@yahoo.com Facebook.com/Yetunde Olasiyan instagram.com/Yetunde Olasiyan Follow her business page on Instagram @officialladywriter

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