Growing up, I used to think my parents were simply out to frustrate me, So many of their rules felt like punishment, and I couldn’t understand why they wouldn't just let me live like other kids. Now, I look back and smile not because it was easy, but because I realize they were shaping me in ways I couldn’t see then.This made me understand this proverb that says "What an elderly man sees seated,a child doesn't see even while standing".
Source
One of my biggest childhood nightmares was afternoon naps, While other kids were outside playing or glued to the TV, I was forced to lie on a bed, eyes wide open, with strict instructions to "close your eyes and sleep." Sleep? At that time of day? It felt like torture. But today, as an adult juggling responsibilities, I understand the value of rest and how essential it is for physical and mental growth. My parents were teaching me to slow down and recharge, this is something many of us struggle with as adults.
Another major rule was never to ask for or accept food from neighbors. Back then, this one really stung, Imagine smelling delicious fried plantain or jollof rice from a neighbor’s house, and not even being allowed to hint that you were hungry let alone daring to ask,just end your life if you fo so. It felt like punishment, like I was being denied joy but now I understand it was a lesson in contentment and self respect, It taught me to appreciate what I had, no matter how little, and not to be dependent on others for satisfaction.
Then there was the dreaded early morning routine. Waking up before sunrise to get ready for school, even when I hadn’t had enough sleep, was real agony. My bed always felt its warmest and coziest just when I heard that dreaded call “Wake up, it’s time for school!” I used to wonder why they wouldn’t let me sleep just a little longer. But now, I see the discipline they were instilling, i learnt consistency, punctuality, and sacrifice. It’s a habit that built my sense of responsibility and time consciousness today.
But perhaps the ultimate punishment, the one that made me feel like I was living in a prison was the day I was forced to write 1 to 1000 in figures as a punishment for misplacing my math book. That was real hell, I cried, begged, and even tried to bargain, but my parents stood their ground. It took hours of cramped fingers and silent frustration, but now I realize they were teaching me accountability and perseverance. It wasn’t just about writing numbers it was about learning not to give up halfway through a difficult task.
Now that I’m older, I understand that none of those things were done to harm me. They were lessons, wrapped in discomfort. My friends wonder how i am able to get so many things done today, and honestly, they are amazed at the skills and resilience those early experiences planted in me.
Childhood discipline wasn’t always pleasant, but it made me who I am and am grateful to my loving Mom,i love you dearly,Mom 💖.