Let me preface this article by saying that my views and observations are not meant to offend or vilify our African parents but to stimulate healthy dialogue on parenting, Mental health, and relationships. Additionally, I support and encourage differing opinions that are presented reasonably and respectfully. With that said, let us begin. 

I think most, if not all, children of African parents can attest to childhoods filled with rigidity, minimal affect, and a suffocating sense of suppression. If not, then you might be in one of two groups: Group A - those with parents who possessed self-reflective capacity, or Group B- the staunch deniers, aka I choose to deny or repress any discomfort I had with my childhood in favor of psychic compliance. My phasing might sound abrasive, and I apologize in advance if that caused any pain because guilt is often a blockade to some realities. We would be doing ourselves a great disservice if we failed to recognize ways that our parents harmed us purposely. 

We come from cultures that heavily value respect and honor, much of which is unearned and expected to be infinitely dispensed at the expense of one group, the children or the youth.  "How dare you talk back to me" is a phrase I often hear, said when a child reasonably observes the harsh punishment or dares to engage in what should be dialogue, " you want to beat me " when they- the parent- instigate and are met with resistance. Or " You think you're the parent now" when the elder has been made aware of their errors or shortcomings.

Too often, we are fed the narrative of " all parents want the best for their children," " mother knows best," " the only person I can trust is my mother or father," etc. Especially as Africans ( I'm Nigerian), we are a collectivist culture that registers danger only from the "outside." That means we are sometimes taught to trust our immediate families more than strangers or extended families.  While there is nothing wrong with this mindset, since humans are fickle and disposed to ruthless tendencies, It has unfortunately created a blind spot for some of our parents. Namely, that they think or compare themselves to god.

I'm not unjust or ungrateful, so I think it prudent to acknowledge the trials and hardships that some of our parents have endured for survival. Unaddressed trauma is an everpresent concern that the older generation gladly overlooks due to perceptions of "weakness." While it can be said that these hardships have created their equally impenetrable exteriors, we have to note that regardless of the difficulties of life, the people nearest to you should never be the outlets of your suppressed rage. Psychically speaking, we all have instinctual urges and desires that are disavowed for the smooth functioning of society. But in the case of some, not all, but some, it seems that they use their children as wastebins for frustrations, then label their transgressions as " discipline" to avoid scrutiny or, worse, guilt. 

The guilt of the reality of their faulty impulse control and affect regulation, the guilt that they, like all humans, are not infallible and should not be exercising unchecked power simply because they created life. I hope it doesn't sound like an exaggeration to say that some African parents believe they can dispense godlike justice and commandments. And questioning this is a taboo. In fact, the strategic use of "it's not in our culture. or " that's against our tradition" ensures that we are policed and reminds us that many before have taken and sustained this abuse, most likely begrudgingly. 

I can already imagine the counters to our argument, "Not all parents are like this," or "It was well intended." And let's say this: if you can acknowledge and accept that humans, as a race, can be evil or maleficent, then what makes your human parents exempt? Do you genuinely believe that your mother has never harbored any negative feelings toward you? No one is predisposed to absolute transparency. We all have thoughts that we keep deep in our minds, some that we renounce because our superegos, the " mind police," has strict regulations. This isn't to say they don't love you, but simply that there are no absolutes when it comes to a human being. 

I'll move on to the topic of psychic distress and why I feel our parents have strict defenses against their faults. 

Our parents have been accustomed to absolute control or at least the illusion of power for so long.  Many of them find the idea of autonomy and leaving the proverbial nest quite unnerving. A healthy acceptance of a child's individuality seems entirely foreign to them. The ego functions of autonomous thinking, judgment, reality testing, and thought processing are seen as attacks on their person when they don't serve the parents' needs and interests.  A fragile ego cannot tolerate any stances threatening its integrity, even more so from an object cataloged as part of itself. Viewing their heightened and passion-filled responses to small slights as a defensive maneuver enlightens us and unburdens us from the chains of consistent submission. Leaving these minor g deities with mounting frustrations at the lack of libations.

I'll stop here for fear of redundancy, and if you have gotten this far, much thanks for that. If you feel my points are unsubstantiated, I ask you to consider what about this article felt unjustified or untrue.  You might think that I am being hyperbolic. Still, I ask that you consider the reality that cases of abuse by parents exist in our communities, and our culture, in most cases, reinforces and sustains this abuse. I'm not saying it only happens in African cultures or is worse, but that happens and should be acknowledged. I don't mean that we should give the unenthused "Oh yeah that happens", and reduce it to culture, and if it is just a cultural trait, then maybe we should still ask " Why ? ".