I never grew up having to share anything with a sibling or cousins. Since moving to London, I have always had my own room, I have always had my own everything. If you're thinking that I am a little spoiled, you would not be wrong. I am used to things usually, not always, going my way.
While I may sound selfish, and sometimes I am, I adore my parents and would not disobey them and their wishes. I didn't even have a teenage rebellion; mostly because my very African parents don't play that, but also because I have never wanted to disappoint them. My parents are good people and they have created a life for me that I enjoy, and to which I have become accustomed. I always strive to make them happy and proud of me, so there's nearly nothing that I would not do for them. Even thinking that one day they may be gone fills me with a sense of dread. I love them so much that I think my heart could explode in my chest.
Every single Nollywood film I have ever seen has had their stories revolving around children. The desire to have children, the inability of some female characters to bear children and of course, those women being hounded by relatives for not having enough children. Children are the most important thing in my culture. If you do not have children, there would be no point in living. And this is one of the friendlier statements that have been heard by barren characters. Imagine growing up in this world where your worth is dependent upon your ability to have a child, and then possibly thinking you do not even want one? It is unheard of, mainly because it's taboo to even contemplate, let alone say out loud.
As my parents are very African, they have not been subtle with their hints. Sometimes outright telling me that they want grandchildren. A lot of them. They want a big house filled with lots of little kids that look like my brother and me. They want their legacy to live on through us, and the best way is through children. I like the idea of children, a little mini me that I could raise to be the best (wo)man that they could be, with a wicked sense of humour, of course.
But I am usually interrupted from this reverie by a screaming baby or fidgety child on the bus. I am a 27-year-old Nigerian woman who has never changed a baby's nappy before in her entire life. Let me just repeat that in case you missed it, not once in my twenty seven years of living have I ever changed a nappy. I am sure that I am not the only one, but I am definitely a rarity. While I have a very large family, most of them live back home in Nigeria, so I am hardly ever around children. My parents only had me and my brother, and being the youngest, the only baby I ever knew was myself.