Being the eldest daughter in an African home, especially in an Igbo family, often means stepping into responsibilities far beyond your years. For me, that started early.
I was already helping my mother care for my younger siblings at just six years old. By then, I had learned how to gather firewood, prepare meals, and keep the household running smoothly. While other children my age were carefree, my days were filled with tasks that demanded focus and maturity.
My mother, a woman of peace and quiet strength, taught us the importance of knowing our boundaries. She shielded us from the frequent family disputes that could have easily drawn us in. “Keep your peace,” she would often say, and that lesson became one of the many gifts she passed down to me. She managed to create an environment of love and structure in the midst of challenges, and for that, I will always be grateful.
However, my time with her was brief. I moved to the city at a young age to complete my primary school education, and the transition was far from easy. Suddenly, I was in a new environment, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and rules. It felt like the world I knew had been turned upside down. I went from the comfort of my home to a place where I had to quickly adapt, learn, and figure out how to belong.
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I missed my mother’s steady presence, her guidance, and even the chaos of being surrounded by my siblings. In the city, I had to grow up even faster. I was constantly navigating uncharted waters—learning how to communicate with strangers, build relationships, and meet expectations that felt overwhelming at times. It was a lonely yet transformative experience, one that taught me resilience, adaptability, and independence.
These early experiences, though challenging, laid the foundation for the person I am today. They taught me how to face difficulties head-on, find strength in solitude, and embrace growth in every circumstance. This post is a reflection of those moments, the lessons learned, and how they’ve shaped my journey so far.