I'm Ayo, a seventeen-year-old girl on a journey of self-discovery in this suffocating but rich environment that is Nigerian culture. 

There have been ups and there have been downs.  Growing up in a society where deference to adults in all situations was deeply ingrained and being a left-handed individual in a predominantly right-handed world, my journey has been filled with both challenges and triumphs.

I invite you to join me as I unravel the threads of my experiences, weaving together the complexities of Nigerian cultural norms and the pursuit of my own identity. 

From a young age, I was taught to revere and respect adults in all situations—a deeply embedded cultural norm in Nigeria. While this deference fostered a sense of discipline and order, it also posed unique challenges for a young girl finding her voice. I vividly recall the moments when my opinions were silenced, my ideas dismissed, simply because of my age. It was a dance of balancing obedience and a growing desire for self-expression.

For the longest time, I was a very timid child. Up to my early teens I could barely look adults in the eye. And the Nigerian culture of reverencing and basically worshipping adults was not helping. I read a lot and so I had a wealth of ideas and knowledge, but I couldn't express myself because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending one adult. 

Imagine me, a young burgeoning feminist, living in a conservative culture where young voices were seen as unimportant and unwise. A culture that believes that feminism was a western concept. There was no way I was going to be able to express myself without any backlash. 

And so, I started writing. Writing was my way of saying the unspeakable. My way of refusing to be silent. My way of fighting back.

I wrote and I wrote and before long, my friends knew me as a writer. When they were describing me, they used the word "writer" and for a while it was enough. I was content with being silenced by a culture that was supposed to uplift. 

But not for long. When I began approaching my mid-teens and late teens, I started speaking up more. I began looking adults in the eye. I became less afraid of voicing my opinions. I started standing up to my parents and to other adults on any sexist crap. I became bold.

Now, I'm not saying there is anything wrong with writing. There isn't. In fact when I started using my voice(literarily) I became bolder with my writing. My writing adopted a new kind of confidence.

In fact, it was when I found my voice(literarily) that I was able to start my feminist blog and podcast Feminist Inc. It wasn't easy but i couldn't have done it while being afraid of offending adults. These days, if any adults says anything sexist they are going to get it from me. Face to face and on my platform.

What I'm saying is that we mustn't let culture silence us. Culture is meant to serve us, not the other way around. The only people this oppressive culture of adult worshiping serves is adults that do terrible things and refuse to be held accountable for their actions. 

For example, when an old man is body shaming a younger person, but no one can talk to the old man because "agbalagba ni won" (i.e., he is an elderly person) utter rubbish. 

As if navigating the intricacies of adult worshiping wasn't enough, I faced an additional hurdle—a seemingly innocuous difference that set me apart: I am left-handed in a predominantly right-handed world.  Society's bias towards right-handedness often made me feel like an outsider, an anomaly in the tapestry of tradition.

One of my core memories is when i raised my left hand in class and I received a hot slap and started crying in front of the whole class. I have never felt more angry and embarrassed in my whole life. Being punished for something that was not my fault sucked. I'll forever take that memory to my grave.

And that's not the only instance where I've faced punishment and beatings for being left-handed. I remember this one time where I entered keke and on coming down from the keke I gave the keke driver money with my left hand. Would you believe that this man rejected the money, called me disrespectful and told me to use my right hand. I was so angry, but I did as I was told. That was in my era of taking shit from people just because they're older than me. If that happened now i would simply pocket the money and walk away.

While I have encountered challenges in navigating Nigerian cultural norms, it is important to acknowledge that Nigerian culture is not all bad. It is a complex tapestry that weaves together both adversity and beauty. In fact, there are aspects of Nigerian culture that have brought immense joy and pride to my life, particularly through its vibrant food and music.

If you stick around my blog long enough, you'll discover that I'm a certified foodie. I love food like a cat loves milk. And food is one thing we have in abundance in Nigeria. I love our food. 

From the spicy jollofs-rice, spaghetti, macaroni to the mouthwatering soups to the thousand other snacks like puff-puff, masa, meat pie... I could go and on. 

Seriously there's no food I don't like. I mean I haven't seen one I've been unable to eat yet. 

Another banging thing about Nigerian culture is the music. I absolutely love afrobeat. And the fact that the genre is finally getting the recognition it deserves is the icing on the cake.

In my journey of self-discovery within the suffocating yet rich environment of Nigerian culture, I have faced numerous challenges as a young girl finding her voice and as a left-handed individual in a predominantly right-handed world. Through writing and finding my literary voice, I discovered the power of self-expression and the importance of challenging oppressive cultural norms.

While there are aspects of Nigerian culture that have stifled my growth, it is essential to recognize that culture is not solely defined by its limitations. Nigerian culture is a tapestry that weaves together both adversity and beauty. It is in our vibrant food, with its rich flavors and diverse dishes, and in our music, particularly the infectious rhythms of afrobeat, that I find immense joy and pride.

As I continue on this journey, I am determined to break free from the shackles of oppressive cultural norms and redefine what it means to be a Nigerian girl in pursuit of her dreams. I invite you to join me in embracing the complexities of our culture, celebrating its strengths, and challenging its limitations. Together, let us weave a new narrative that empowers and uplifts the voices of the younger generation.