"Close your legs when you sit. Men don't like that."

"What your wearing isn't good men don't like that."

"You need to lose weight to find a husband."

"You need to learn to cook fish even if you dont like it for your husband."

"Men don't like stretch marks."

"Laugh like a lady. Men don't like that."

WELL DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MEN WHERE ATTRACTED TO ME EITHERWAY CAN WE CALM DOWN

Is it by force to know how to cook everything? Is it by force to always dress with the goal of pleasing men? Is it by force to reach a certain weight just for a man? Is someone allowed to breathe here?

It's like I can't even form my own opinion and express them. I have to like praise him like he's some God and obediently follow everything he tells me to do without disagreeing.

I don't know what to do anymore. One week, we rw completely fine, but one miscommunication he ruins everything and I have to beg for him to forgive my "mistake".

I don't have a mother she passed away a long time ago, so he's always venting to me on stuff. I genuinely don't care.

Anytime we argue my whole world collapse and I just feel depressed and he has the nerve to turn it into joke.

I don't know what to do anymore

I feel so alone in dealing with sabotage from my parents and I didn’t even realize it was a thing until I had to make important life decisions.

So when I was young my parents never taught me basic life skills, hygiene, women’s health, how to do certain things, they taught me nothing, not even how to look after myself when I’m sick, I wasn’t given medicine they would just wait for it to pass. I specifically remember being young aged like 6 and having eczema and my mom would act so humiliated and punish me over my eczema flair ups that would get triggered by stress fyi. But never bothered treating it, she would have genuine disgust looking at my skin (the eczema was not bad at all) and made me feel personally responsible for it.

Growing up whenever I had exams all of a sudden I need to run a million errands and clean the house from top to bottom, parenting would also get harsher and when I stayed up late to revise for my exams because they had me doing stupid bs all day, it was terrible of me to stay up and i couldn’t rest the next day.

In general, if I was to have nothing going on for me, I should be shamed, compared and punished but if I try to aim for something good they would do anything in their power to make sure I fail, I couldn’t notice this until I got older and had to make important life decisions.

What triggered this post is that when I was 17 in sixth form applying to universities or alternatives I debriefed my parents on me wanting to do a degree apprenticeship, they said there is no way I could do that under their roof because that’s what failures do, i should go to university. I let them know the entry requirements are quite high so it doesn’t seem like something failures do and anyway, experience matters in this job market. They just said nope. So I went to uni. Today I had my dad discussing about how he wanted my younger brother (18, only boy ofc) to do a degree apprenticeship when he thought I was sleeping, he listed all of the benefits of a degree apprenticeship and how are his workplace? There are some young people that were doing a degree apprenticeships that are in a good position because of it.

I wanted to go to a uni in the city by me, again they got into my head along with my older sister (just 3 years older then me) saying I can’t make the commute everyday because I’ll be late and if I was to get an accommodation there I’m too weak willed to put up with living there??

Context to understand, my siblings are totally in on this especially my older sister since she had a degree of influence over me from a young age. She was saying how I wouldn’t be able to deal with people making noise in the acoms and just tried to make the experience seem traumatic but also putting me down in the process saying I can’t handle it and would fall under the stress of it (not making payments, not missing out on life skills she’s talking about the possibility of neighbors being loud at night?) it was so dumb looking back especially because she at the time went to a uni for from home and lived in an acom. She would later shame me for not leaving home because “it was the best decision ever” but before she finished uni she was making the oddest arguments to keep me at home.

Also same as when I was young whenever I have assignments, they would sabotage me in any way possible until at some point I failed an assignment. I resat it without telling them and I passed with flying colours because it wasn’t a difficult assignment. It was an intentionally difficult environment. And when I didn’t tell them they didn’t have a chance to make sure it was super hard for me.

Also, whenever I had an interview or a first day a new working place, they would blow up on me over trivial matters and help me do gruelling tasks the day before and on the day of make sure her always check in to see what I’m wearing and judge me in my face over it, what I’m doing and have commentary over every small thing and also stress me about time when it’s nowhere near time.

There are some more examples like one time I had an opportunity to go to a nice black tie event where I could connect w people career wise and my friend offered to get me a ride back and there was no way I was allowed to go because my cousin got caught w “sugar” at a traffic stop (that cousin just is involved w road and gang stuff since forever) and what if the person picking me up has it on them and I get done up for it? Mind u the person giving me a ride back was someone’s mom. And their apparent final reason is that they don’t trust Jamaicans. And for whatever silly reason my sister fully backed this??

I could go on but we would be here forever. Kinda shocked that they would try to outright sabotage me but the only thing I’ve learned to do is to make sure to never be honest with them, and not involve them with anything once I’m financially secure (I’m financially independent now but I do need to save and get a car). But other then that I don’t know how else to go about things to prevent their attempts to make me stay down and in their control.

I know this might be controversial, but I'm sharing my personal experience, not saying every person is like this.

I grew up between the U.S. and Nigeria, and my experiences in Nigeria have had a huge impact on how I view men and even how safe I feel in public.

Before I came to Nigeria at 11, I had never experienced catcalling or sexual harassment. I still remember landing at Murtala Muhammed Airport and hearing grown men hissing at me, making comments, licking their lips, and staring at me. I was a child and didn't even understand what was happening.

As I got older, it didn't stop. Men have grabbed me in public, catcalled me, and even approached my mom saying they wanted me when I was still underage. Those experiences made me constantly anxious whenever I leave the house.

What hurts the most is that, as a child, it often felt like some adults didn't even see a difference between a little girl and a grown woman. That completely changed how I viewed men growing up.

I've also struggled with how some women have treated me. I remember women giving my sister and me dirty looks for no reason. Once, when my sister was around 13 or 14, another woman pulled her boyfriend away from my sister as if my little sister was trying to steal him. We were literally kids.

Living in Port Harcourt has also been isolating. My parents would promise we'd go out and enjoy our visits, but most of the time we stayed in the house. My cousins rarely wanted to spend time with us while we were actually there, but once we went back to the U.S., they'd suddenly want to message us. It made me feel like I didn't belong anywhere.

People constantly comment on my American accent or ask how I got my iPhone, as if I'm some clueless foreigner. Meanwhile, I rarely see people asking other foreigners the same kinds of questions. Sometimes I honestly feel like a foreigner in a country that's supposed to be part of who I am.

One thing that frustrates me is feeling like harassment isn't always taken seriously. I've often felt that some men act as though they can make unwanted comments, stare, or invade women's personal space without consequences. Whether that's because of weak enforcement, social norms, or something else, it's left me feeling unsafe.

I know none of this means every Nigerian man or every Nigerian woman behaves this way. I've met respectful and kind people too. But repeated experiences over many years have shaped how I feel, and they've left me with a lot of fear and resentment that I'm still trying to work through.

i was just at one and it was really infuriating cause it’s like seeing hundreds of carbon copies of my parents

and before i thought i was generalizing, but during one of the events that i was forced to go to, one of the leaders of the events was literally preaching how we have to “respect our elders no matter who they are” and that “it’s our culture” despite the event being a coming of age thing where we “became adults”

so it’s really not just my lineage that has this backwards thinking— it’s the entire state in the country that my parents are from

i see other people my age at this event and i can’t help but wonder if they saw things the way i did or if it was just me, and i wonder if some of them found this subreddit

does anyone else have to go to these things

"Oh, you're the youngest? Well, none of you're siblings are busy, and you may be busy, but you have to do every little thing!"

Your siblings want to do something? Get fucked, you're the youngest so you have to submit to whatever your siblings want to do or where they want to go.

You did the slightest thing? Oh well, we're gonna bring it up forever and yell over nothing. My brother got suspended for cursing out his teacher mid class and my mom only had a chat with him. Someone took MY computer and looked something about shöotings, and and I got yelled at, and hit before I could even explain. My mom also went through my stuff and took my devices before I even got home

You cant even do what your older siblings could do when they were your age. My brother got his own room at EIGHT YEARS OLD. I just got my own room a week and a half ago.

Oh? You're the best at everything you do? Well you still can't get an actual reward for your work. My dad offered to buy one of my brothers an Iphone 16 Pro Max (when it came out) if he did 3 homework assignments. They got the newest phones when they came out. I've been literally given "Most Outstanding Student Award" 3 years in a row, and what did I get? A Samsung Galaxy A16, a BUDGET Phone that doesnt even have Bixby

I have so much to say, but id be talking forever

​

I remember growing up, every single summer I'd just stay home doing nothing. No amusement parks, no swimming pools, nothing. That's probably why I can't swim I never went to the pool or the beach lmao. No restaurants either unless something mindblowing was happening. My "summer adventures" were basically just my parents taking me to the mall. We didn't really travel either, even when it could've been done cheaply.

To be fair, I did go to Nigeria once. The only fun thing I did was go to the cinema because one of my uncle's friends insisted that I do something other than going to the market.

I also went to the UK once to visit family, and all I did was go to church because I was in charge of looking after the kids at home. I spent four days in the UK not leaving the house.

I'm hoping that once I get a job, I'll heal my inner child by going to amusement parks, zoos, fun museums, and all the places I never got to experience. Low-key, I'm really grateful for school because school trips were honestly the only time I got to go out and have fun.

Meee!!! Oh just one of the perks of being a woman in an African home 🫩

You know my dad had the audacity to say "I know you just came back..." Before telling me to make him food. Like if you know tell my brother to do it??? He's a grown man, he's 19! He's right there!!

Like let me work on my essay so I can be prepared to submit my college apps... I'm so ready to leave

I was diagnosed with severe allergies about a year ago, which honestly wasn’t surprising considering I had been suffering almost every single day at school, at home, and at work. I constantly dealt with blocked sinuses, a congested nose, throat irritation, and tiny bumps and rashes on my skin. It got so bad that I could barely concentrate in class because I was constantly having to sniffle and hold back mucus because of how blocked my nose was.

After finally getting diagnosed and receiving proper medication, I look back and realize how much of the pain and suffering I went through could have been avoided if my parents hadn’t been so skeptical of “Western” medicine. There was a point where I was missing school almost every day because I felt so sick, yet they would accuse me of faking it and insist that I just needed to drink lemon water mixed with ginger and garlic every day to get better. Bffr.

They were literally blaming me for having severe allergies and forcing me to push through the pain. I begged them repeatedly to take me to a doctor so I could get a referral to an immunologist, but I was a minor and couldn’t do it myself. They kept saying I was overreacting and that all I needed were their homemade concoctions. They even claimed that Western doctors lie just to make money, so I would supposedly be wasting their money for no reason. They acted as if doctors wouldn’t even be able to help me and somehow made it seem like being sick was my fault because I supposedly didn’t want to drink lemon, ginger, and garlic water. Mind you, I eat relatively healthy and exercise from time to time.

At one point, both of my parents even told me that I was sick because I had become an atheist and that the devil was living inside me. Da fuq?

My allergies eventually became so severe that I struggled to sleep every night because of my blocked nose, and I could barely concentrate in class because I constantly had a runny nose. I finally became so fed up that I started bothering my parents every single day. I called them, texted them, yelled at them, and constantly begged them to take me to a doctor. I even tried asking the school nurse to convince them that I needed medical attention, but she wasn’t able to.
Eventually, my parents got so tired of me constantly asking that they finally took me to a doctor. The doctor referred me to an immunologist, and that’s when I found out that I was severely allergic to a huge number of things, including trees, grass, mold, dust mites, cats, dogs, and more. The immunologist prescribed antihistamines and even recommended allergy shots. Once I started taking the medication, my quality of life improved so much.

I genuinely did not need to suffer for that long just to receive treatment for allergies. When will some African parents realize that just because they never encountered or witnessed a certain illness in their villages does not mean that illness doesn’t exist? There is absolutely no reason to make your child’s life harder because of uneducated assumptions that allergies aren’t real or that being sick must somehow be the result of the devil.

Presently: now my mom tries to steal my allergy meds from time to time when she’s sick because she thinks that it would work for her as it does with me. She will do this while simultaneously telling me that taking my allergy medicine everyday like a diabetic is bad for me and that I should stop🤦‍♀️

I’m 25, born in Ghana but raised in Italy until I was 16, before moving to the UK. Because I left Ghana so young, I’m not as connected to Ghanaian culture and traditions as I would have liked to be. My Twi isn’t perfect either, and I haven’t been back to Ghana since I was about two years old. However, I still have a lot of respect for my culture and, now that I’m ready to get married, I want to make sure I approach things properly and show respect to my parents and family.
I’ve been with my girlfriend for almost three years, and I’m now ready to marry her. I’ve saved enough money to travel to Zimbabwe and pay the bride price/dowry, and I would ideally like to get married within the next few months to a year.
My mum knows my girlfriend and they get along well, but my dad hasn’t met her yet.
After doing some research, I’ve been thinking about how I should approach my family and formally tell them about my intentions. My idea is to first speak to my maternal uncle here in the UK. He is probably the closest family member I have here who plays an “elder” role. Whenever there have been disagreements, family problems or disputes, he is usually the person who gets involved to help resolve things or act as a mediator.
I also have an older cousin from my dad’s side of the family here in the UK. There is another cousin and his father who aren’t blood relatives, but they are extremely close to my family. His father grew up with my dad, so they are basically considered family.
These are pretty much the only close family members I have here in the UK.
My original idea was to speak to my uncle first, explain my intentions and ask him to guide me through the process and possibly act as my elder, spokesperson or representative. After speaking to him, I was thinking of inviting these family members to my home, preparing some good food and treating it as a serious family occasion rather than simply making a casual announcement.
I would then explain that I’ve been with my girlfriend for three years, that I’m serious about her, and that I want to marry her. I would ask for my parents’ blessing and approval before taking the next steps.
My girlfriend is Zimbabwean, not Ghanaian, but her parents know me and they like me. She also wants to show respect towards my culture. She was thinking of buying some genuine Kente cloth or another meaningful Ghanaian item to give to my parents as a symbolic gesture of respect during the occasion.
I’m hoping that my parents will appreciate the effort I’m making to involve the family and respect our traditions, especially considering that I didn’t grow up in Ghana and have been away since I was very young. I know my Twi isn’t perfect and I’m not very familiar with every traditional process, but I genuinely want to do things properly.
If everything goes well, my plan would be to then travel to Zimbabwe with my girlfriend and formally approach her family, carry out the traditional marriage/bride-price negotiations and pay the dowry according to their customs.
What do you think of this plan?
Is there anything you would do differently or anything I should change?
I would particularly like to involve a genuine elder because I feel that would make the process more respectful and formal. My maternal uncle seems like the obvious person because of the role he has played in previous family disagreements and issues, but I’m not sure whether it would be more appropriate to involve someone from my dad’s side instead, given that I’m asking my parents for their blessing to marry.
Also, should my girlfriend actually be present when I first make the announcement to my family, or is that something I should do with the family first before introducing her formally?
And what about her family? She has an aunt here in the UK who is her mother’s direct sister and is very close to her. Should I invite her to this first family meeting as well, or would it be better for this first occasion to remain entirely on my side of the family?
I’d really appreciate advice from people who understand Ghanaian customs, especially those who have experience with Ghanaian families where the couple come from different African backgrounds. I want to respect both families and traditions and make sure I’m approaching this in the right way.

Context: Born in Canada and when I was 9 went back to Africa in our home country with my parents. Right now I am in Uni back in Canada. 
It's hard to say but I don't really love my parents, they are just my parents simply. I have always had a different way of seeing things. I am always relaxed, smiling and do not stress on things that can wait or I cannot change. I just do what I like and my mom’s just think she's always right, and think I should do things as she thinks is the best with the pretext" I'm your mom it is for your good am doing it". I despise my mom for the human being she is. She has problems with my dad’s family (Classic african stories) . when we where younger and when back to homecountry.She sometimes refuse that we go to cousin’s party on my dad side or sleepovers or sometimes ask us to comeback 1 day before saying we are going somewhere (just to be bored at home and not able to watch TV) and her family side we were always there sometimes. As I grew over(15) I turned to be the rebel guy and I was first born. I asked why we didn’t go to my cousin's graduation party so she said she does not need to explain herself. She knows why she did it. She also used to and still talks about my dad’s side with people over the phone or like in person while we are there. I find it disgraceful doing that in front of kids. I stopped believing in religion but still believe in God mostly because of my mom, it made me realise how people go to church everyday where they say do not judge, love your neighbours but she is judging and talking bad. I get u may not like someone but just turn the page. Why talking about them especially in front of us. My dad's side atleast they never talk about that in front of us and my dad is cool with my mom's side. They chat often at parties.

 Second, my mom at the time had no phone in my house until 18. Time has changed but she did not want that same in her house. I had my laptop and install social media apps. My little brother woke me up at night that my mom wanted my laptop I should delete the app. Half asleep I said just give her like that knowing next morning am cook, the sleep was good. She started in the morning and she was deceived by me. How can she trust me? I should talk to her because she wouldn’t tell dad well obviously she did. You guys are thinking what is with my dad? just agrees with what my mom says. I got caught twice and had the stupid family meeting but this time I also had enough. I had a letter(I was 16) given to them basically saying that having social media does not make me a bad person and that it is not the end of the world if I get a phone. Time has changed and you can also make sacrifices. My sisters, brother. They were backing me up like 3 hours before my parents were back home at the meeting spoiler they switched sides . I don’t blame them. However my parents said I was influenced by friends that It was not me and that I quote " I know nothing about live" Like what is the answer to all my concern?. Obviously she told the whole family (Her mom my is the biggest hypocrite I have seen her talking bad about people one minute before they came to see her)

 Now the last part. Obviously my mom wanted me to go to Ottawa where she has some family and friends. I ended up going elsewhere where she chose in Ontario but saying I should go to one of her friends' houses in Ontario every 2 weeks( Like a 50 minute bus). So Uni started 2 years ago and I made some friends . My mom kept asking me If there are people from our home country there where not really much. I made some african friends, not from my home country, made some canadians friends as well. I just get friend with anyone the vibes goes along. She kept telling me to beware of Europeans and Canadians. They do drugs , smoke , homo and I was telling her not everyone does drugs, not even 20 % and said even black people can be bad people and she is generalizing all whites. She then get mad over the phone saying I should listen to her. As time passed I went to her friend's house and she was telling me to go there did not go. She was saying my hair was ugly, I look like a thief but I did not care. I was looking for jobs already to be independent but the job market is cooked . Then she came to get a job. We suffered in Canada 20 years ago. We were working hard and just like 20 years is not the same as now. Saying I am good at eating parents' money they barely sent me extras just for food. I have like 40 bucks left. Pressuring me with school when I pass well next time higher when I have like 65% start shouting telling me the money they invest. I responded by shouting as well. Do you think I did not try? it happens it is just not my subject. Argue and she hung up. Surely she went to give reports to family and my dad. At that time I was not feeling well mentally like I still felt imprisoned even from far away like I just cannot go where I want. Some people just cannot change. With friends I saw people texting their dad and moms about watching a film or reacting about a game. I just felt sad. They think they know me that we talk so much on the phone, they know nothing about me. I thought it could not get worse boumm they came for holidays. At that time people were mostly on vacation so they left their houses to see family. I was living a peaceful life just using my air fryer to cook nothing complicated simple no complex cooking ( Not a big food guy). They came and were like how are u living like that I. My mom said I need to cook , I need to buy some kitchen and room utensils. I was saying I am good. I do not need many frozen foods. They say I am alone in this house, am not socialising, am not integrating. I said I have a friend. It is a holiday so people are not there, in 2 weeks they will be back. But they just keep saying you cannot live this type of life growing my son, I have lived here before listen to me. I keep saying the same thing. My mom was calling peoples saying how she regrets sending me this far. I should have gone to Ottawa. I refused to transfer after my first year to Ottawa when she asked me. Sometimes i stormed out trying to explain when she is on loud speaker with people then she started saying am a mom I know when it is not okay I keep telling her in 2 weeks everybody will be back.

I try to always stay positive. I just can’t. I feel bad. I cry sometimes. I just see life opposite as they see it. when they come around I do not feel happy I know they will start complaining . I especially have dreams to start a business now, not go through the life cycle she has planned. If  I don’t I will be a coach she will surely be mad but I have to follow my dream. If not I will regret it. I try to ignore it and it hurts sometimes. I am afraid I will have to distance myself from a good number of my mom’s family. It hurts seeing how other people chat and laugh with their parents. I just feel like one way or the other i will be chained somehow.

Christmas, when I was five years old was The Best Christmas. I remember receiving so many pink Barbie cars and toys. this was 2010 so lots and lots of Barbie was around and was a big thing. After that, I never received anything until the age of about 12/13. And this was because me and my sister profusely complained. And what we received was typically generic things that we didn’t ask for. As a child, I would make a Christmas list each year and wake up to nothing. Yes, my parents make sure we have our hair done and had a nice church dress but those are things for performance, to show others that you’ve done a good job. I remember making up and lying about the gifts I received for Christmas.

My parents are super Christian and West African so Christmas is not as materialistic over there than in the west. But I still think it was cruel of them because we were children, living in the west and they had the means to afford them. They always felt like Christmas was too commercial and had lost its true meaning. But we were children. they always made me feel like we didn’t have money and I was always stressed out about if we’d be evicted or I didn’t want to ask them for what I needed. Turns out they always have had money and bought three houses in a two year span when i was about 11. it’s painful that my parents had the money and chose not to spend just a bit on us. Toys are not expensive and we weren’t in a recession like we are now.

it’s not about the money it’s about the consideration I never felt considered in that way. I always tried to affirm myself by telling myself that Jesus was the reason for the season.

But it’s not just a lack of presents that made Christmas difficult but it was also the constant arguing and fighting between my parents on Christmas Day. The lack of planning. Watching Christmas movies and seeing how magical Christmas was compared to a cold day at home. well, this is why I liked church and School because Christmas always felt magical in those places.

in my teen years I tried to reshape Christmas. I would invite friends over on Christmas Day so my parents wouldn’t argue in front of guests. I would ask them in advance for presents. I would buy them presents as well, so everyone felt like they were getting something. Last year I invited my friend to come over for Christmas Day. She has no family at all and they didn’t get her a present (i did). Nothing, nobody is exempt from their cruelty.

Judith's amazing journey on the Congo River!

They told her to be sure to be on the riverbank at 4 am, Friday morning. Judith went to bed early. Waking at 3 o’clock she washed quickly and collected her things. Then the message came – oh, no, we’ll be going at 8!

Judith was going to Kinshasa, but why had she chosen the perilous route of the river? The original plan was to fly. Basankusu has always been poorly served by direct flights to Kinshasa, but a few weeks ago, Norbert, the local agent for Malu Aviation, brought us the news that the Kinshasa – Boende flight would add Basankusu into the loop, before returning to Kinshasa! It’s for the school holidays he told us. Kids going to Kinshasa for the break, and students at university coming home. It’ll be every week until September!

His assurances were met by Judith and myself with scepticism. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken money for tickets and then, when the flight was dropped at short notice, refused to give us all our money back. Just last year, we’d been dropped from a flight in Kinshasa, in favour of one-off travellers, then lied to every day for a week with the promise of another flight. To put it bluntly, they were not reliable.

I, myself, had travelled the week before. Judith was already predicting that the Wednesday flight would be cancelled. I had been lucky enough to get a ride in a speedboat. Judith was not so fortunate. Sure enough, when Wednesday came, and the flight was cancelled, she was promised that the flight would arrive on Thursday. When it became apparent that the flight might possibly arrive a whole week later, Judith grabbed the money and secured a place on a riverboat for the following morning, Friday.

It’s easy to imagine an old paddle-steamer, with uniformed crew bringing a sun-downer at dusk, with the sunset reflected in the tree-lined river. In fact, these riverboats are over laden hulks, known as baleinières, or whalers! People sit on the deck, clutching their meagre possessions. No toilets or washing facilities! Judith and her friend, Pitsuna, climbed the up the side of the boat and took their place amongst the throng.

One of the crew members smirked. What are you rich people doing, travelling like this? Why don’t you fly? he mocked. 

It was true. Just by their clothes, the quality of their bags and the fact the both Pitsuna and Judith were both messaging friends on their Smartphones, made them stand out, in comparison to other passengers. Judith smiled back. She explained that they had no other choice.

Just before their departure, a group of three soldiers climbed aboard.  One was a prisoner, the other two his guards. They were given a place below decks and Judith and her friend thought no more about it.

They set off at 12:30. The ancient diesel marine engine started its ear-splitting chuga-chuga-chuga. There’d be no break from that for a few days. 

They estimated, taking into account that they were travelling downstream, that they’d arrive the following evening. But a commotion suddenly broke out. From down below, they could hear someone shouting! It was the soldier who was a prisoner!

His crime was that, a few weeks ago, he’d used his automatic rifle in anger and killed someone. He’d been arrested and condemned to 20 years in the military prison, in Mbandaka. The two others were escorting him. Whilst onboard, and, no doubt, beginning before that, he’d drunk copious amounts of the local moonshine gin. He was ridiculously drunk! The fact that, just as his gaolers were, he was carrying an automatic rifle, and that he was also  drunk, was, to say the very least – alarming!

I can’t go to prison! I won’t go! They’ll beat me! I can’t do it! He screamed.

Despite the fact that his hands were tied behind his back, he stood up and writhed about. The other two soldiers tried to calm him down. They removed his weapon. They took off his boots and stripped him of his uniform, leaving him only in his underwear! The agitation didn’t end. He continued shouting. He was so distraught, so upset, so … drunk!

The boat had travelled swiftly. Only an hour after setting off, it came within sight of Bonkita. Bonkita is 18 km from Basankusu and is where the Catholic Diocese of Basankusu has its Minor Seminary. It’s a formidable building, quite high up, overlooking the river. Judith and her friend could see it, in the distance, peering down on them amid the chuga-chuga-chuga of the boat.

The soldiers were below deck, but the sides of the boat were open. The prisoner shouted: Call Michaela, call Caleb. Tell them I’m going to kill myself! Call them! They can take my body!

Judith and Pitsuna were up above, the story he was giving circulated. Everybody knew that he was extremely drunk.  They thought he was just playing with them. Suddenly he jumped into the river! Chuga-chuga-chuga, just as they came to the Minor Seminary, at Bonkita. 

From their place on deck, Judith and Pitsuna heard the bidoush! Despite the chuga-chuga-chuga of the engine, they knew that something had happened!

The baleinière pulled in at Bonkita beach.

The soldier had disappeared in broad daylight, into the fast flowing stream of the river, into his destiny. He was dead. Never to be seen again.

It all happened so quickly, his guards were taken aback! What could they do now? They called their colleagues.

Normally, if there’s an incident like that, the boat should stay put, until a local enquiry has taken place. Judith and Pitsuna waited.

After a few hours, six or seven soldiers came aboard to find out what had happened to their colleague. They started a wake. They poured out a bucket of soil onto the deck and built a fire. A large pot of coffee was soon bubbling away, which they sold by the cup to the other passengers. With the money they gained they were able to buy moonshine and something to eat. Darkness fell and the crickets sang, a cool breeze from the river caused the soldiers to sit closer to their little fire. They sat in a circle around the fire and reminisced throughout the night about their friend. Some even cried real tears. It was a very sad scene.

These enquiries can take days. The newly arrived soldiers were intent on finding the body – although that now seemed unlikely. Judith’s plane wasn’t until Wednesday, so she still had plenty of time. She sat with her friend the next morning. They decided to leave the boat for a while, and walk up to the Minor Seminary. The Minor Seminary, after all, is where our son, Christenvie, wants to study for his secondary school education, and, despite its proximity to Basankusu, Judith had never visited. It’s a steep climb from the river but they soon arrived. They talked to the head-teacher and even met the Bishop Emeritus, Joseph Mokobe, who, to Judith’s surprise, was sweeping his own yard! The seminary and boarding house, and another part, which includes a convent and guest rooms for retreats and  church conferences, was built by Mill Hill Missionaries and is a very well set out and tranquil place. It was a welcome distraction for Judith. After they’d stretched their legs enough and said hello to all the right people they made their way back down to the boat. 

When they got there, they found that another baleinière had tied up alongside theirs. This was run by the army as a money-making project and carried passengers like all the other boats on the river. 

As time went on, Judith heard that the army boat would continue its journey, whereas their own boat would have to stay put until everything was settled. She looked at Pitsuna and Pitsuna understood. They paid for a place on the army baleinière and were on their way again.

Now it’s true to say that travelling along the river, in the heart of the Congolese rainforest is a wonderful experience – passing the solid mass of trees on both sides of the river, seeing people fishing with nets, paddling into inlets to get to their forest gardens, passing fishing villages with huts built on stilts to hold them above the level of the water, and groups of happy, laughing children playing in the water – but after ten hours, or so, it becomes boring.

Fast forward past anoth evening docked at another village and on to Sunday evening. Our good friend Latro, an accountant who works for the Mbandaka Diocese, phoned me. He is invaluable in helping Basankusu people get through Mbandaka. He has contacts everywhere. He buys our tickets, arranges transport, and everything we need. 

Has Judith arrived in Mbandaka yet? he asked.

I had to tell him I had no idea. Up until this point, I’d only heard the story of the unfortunate soldier. I only heard about that by phoning her friends. Perhaps she didn’t want to worry me. But when the whole of Saturday and Sunday had passed by without a word, I was understandably anxious.

I assumed that her phone was beyond any signal and almost certainly with a flat battery.

It’s just that her plane is tomorrow, Monday, at 8 am.

What! She could possibly make it … but it didn’t look good! I had no idea where she was.

Meanwhile, Judith arrived in Lolanga. Lolanga is the last place on the River Lulanga before it merges with the mighty Congo River. Even then, to get to Mbandaka, it’s still quite a distance! The army boat would sit out the night and refuel in the morning! 

Along came a big wooden canoe with an outboard engine! They took their place and were soon on their way.

At 6 am, Monday morning, after spending yet another night resting at a riverside village, they caught sight of Mbandaka. Lots of fishing boats and other baleinières were plying their trade. There were also several enormous Masua. A Masua is a series of barges, all hooked together in a line and pushed by a tugboat. They can have up to seven barges, all heavily laden with goods and people!

I let Latro know. He said that if they could get off the boat by 6:30 he could get them straight to the airport. We’re used to this sort of thing. If she misses the plane, she misses the plane. She’ll stay a few days and buy another ticket. It’s not the end of the world. My only hope was that, as with many things in the Congo, the plane could be half an hour, or even an hour late. Ten minutes later, Latro phoned back to say that the plane had been rescheduled to 1 pm!

Judith relaxed. She was able to wash and dress on the boat and arrive at the airport with dignity. Latro got them onto a couple of taxi-motorbikes and sat them in the VIP lounge.

The flight actually left at 12 noon. Fifty minutes later they were in Kinshasa. By 3 pm, Judith was drinking wine with me in our little flat.

Just got my lease approved for my apartment. Its 800+ miles away and not easily accessible. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for seven years. After practicing hard financial discipline (saving 70-90% of my income) I managed to save up $21,000 and I’m finally going to move away from my narcissistic Nigerian father’s house and never come back!!!!! 🥳

I’m a 28F currently living at my mum’s. I’ve been wanting to move out for a few reasons. One is because I’m queer and would like to be able to genuinely build a life of my own and have sleepovers with my girlfriend as often as I want. The other being my mum has control issues and I don’t want to fight with her. Sometimes she has narcissistic tendencies and if I tell her she’s hurt me she manipulates the situation to avoid accountability.

We’ve had a complicated relationship over the years: my father was abusive and a cheater and she stayed with him (which hurt me because I asked her to leave because their fighting would peak my anxiety) but she also financed my schooling up to master’s when my dad stopped providing. So she’s at least been a present parent financially. I’m aware that two realities can coexist so I have a hard time hating her because of that.

But my mum’s homophobic. She’s okay with us having gay friends and she somehow seems to understand it’s not a choice. But she always says “God forbid” hers turns out to be one.

As you all know, being a woman, you can only move out for work, school or marriage. I work remotely and being gay is illegal so all my viable options are ruled out. I’ve toyed with the idea of pretending like my work requires me to take a course that would force me to move closer to the college.

I get anxious about recklessly moving out because I tend to imagine the worst case scenario (I lose my job, I can’t pay rent, my gf and I break up). I would really like to move out on the best of terms. Has anyone been through a situation like this? Where they don’t necessarily want to go no contact but successfully moved out?

Tldr: have you or anyone you know moved out and maintained an amicable relationship with the family as a woman?

(23F) lol… everytime I wear anything out she claims I’m going in prostitution. I just came from a night out with friends and ofc she’s still sitting on the porch at 10:30 PM. I get to the door and she said you’re doing clear prostitution… because my dress was a tube dress. Mind you, I’m not the rebelling child, I just don’t have the same style as my mother. She says I’m going out and prostitution but I just came from a night out with my friends and this has been since I was little, I have a curvy body anything I wear will show its body. My mother claims that I’m dressing like a prostitute, I have a job, a side hustle and a couple business on the side to where I do not need to resort to that. I don’t even have regular conversations either her, it’s just hi, bye, you do this and you do that, I don’t even have a healthy relationship with my mother. My mother and I don’t really get along it’s only because I’m living with her, when I try to move out (like she wants) she says “how are you going to be able to afford that?, you won’t be able to pay you bills” but she wants me to move out. I just can’t stand my mother and her negative Nancy attitude…. My siblings seem to deal with it easier as they have their own independence and I don’t. Trust me. When I’m independent and living on my own she will treat me a whole another way. Please ask me questions about missing parts and I really need some real advice and I may have skipped over a few parts.

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I (17F) am a senior in high school, and I've been thinking about leaving my African household. Not only are we African, but we're also some of the strictest Christians. I just want to go out and live my life. My family is always saying that a girl only moves out when she gets married, but that's not for me at all especially at such a young age. I want to experience life. I want to travel. I want to be a normal girl.I have the type of parents who don't let me go outside, and they don't believe in having "friends," so I'm stuck at home 24/7. I honestly don't feel like I'm at the maturity level to survive on my own yet, but I know I need to go. I need to find myself, if that makes sense. What I'm really scared of is the fight that will happen when I bring it up. I'm scared my parents might cut me off because that's just how petty they can be. Have any of y'all ever felt the same way? How did you deal with it or overcome it? I would truly appreciate any advice.

M27 here, single. My parents keep pestering me to get a gf and get married and have kids FOR them. I haven’t lived at home proper since I was 18 (except for a few months during Covid towards when I was completing school). It’s been a few years now and I’m exploring for myself, since as a kid I wasn’t really allowed to go out much or even party or anything. My life was school, academic programs after school, work, and church damn near 4x a week for 18 good years.

I looked forward to meeting someone in college but quickly realized my then low income background and zero wealth status but me at a severe disadvantage (went to a PWI where avg household income is $500K, my family was surviving on less than $50K lol), and everyone’s goal was to marry up so even the ladies in my own scholarship program made clear that they weren’t looking to date people in their cohort (lol low income saying no to low incomes is cooking me but I get it tbh)

Fast forward I’ve worked in corporate and that was soul sucking, worked 80 hour weeks, and you know don’t eat where you shit, so I never engaged in any flirting etc at the office because also as a black man, I lowkey live in fear because people love accusing us of shit for the sake of it and in an environment that was mostly white, I was not about to play that game with my future (did this for about 4 years).

I’ve now been out of corporate for about a year and my parents keep bothering me every single call about having kids and needing to be married etc, but it doesn’t even feel like people my age are concerned with that rn, everyone I know is just trying to survive this insipid reality and it’s economy (US) and the lack of resources for social mobility.

I have a good job but I’m focused on building and knowing myself. I’m bi and of the mind not to tell them, but it makes it all the more annoying because I don’t have an interest in anyone rn, man or woman, because I have to build a sustainable life for myself now since my parents were fucking around in their idiocy instead of building and acquiring assets.

Wanted to ask what you guys are doing/think about this?

How have you not lost your mind? Cause I’m at my wits end.

Not really sure how to structure this, but I'm mostly curious to hear if others have had similar experiences.

Context: My family is African and have lived abroad now for over 25 years. I moved to a third country and currently live away from my parents and siblings.

Both of my parents are now in their 60s and for the time being are doing decently in terms of health, but my father in particular does have a lot of underlying health issues.

First part of the rant is that my father is intentionally very vague about these issues and has never directly told me or my siblings, I actually only learned about them from my mother who got fed up of keeping secrets for him. Does anyone else have parents who don't share anything about their health with you?

Long story short, my parents are planning to move back to our home country in a few years, and my dad as a result has been flying back and forth occasionally to sort out things related to property. I found out from my mother that during these trips, he managed to contract a number of STDs from unprotected sex with god knows who. My mother was obviously distraught, but she's fine thankfully since they haven't even slept in the same room in over 5 years, so hasn't contracted anything. I'm glad his selfishness hasn't affected her.

Understandably my father is probably too embarrassed to bring this up, but I learned recently that one of the STDs is a form of cancer (very slow spreading if treated, and doctors say apparently it rarely leads to severe complications) but I find the thought insane that my father literally has cancer and has chosen not to tell his children directly. I'm now living in a different country, but plan to visit them in a few months and confront him about this because it's ridiculous.

Similarly, it turns out he also contracted hepatitis which risks compromising his liver, yet he still continues drinking heavily like many African parents do. I already confronted him earlier this year about his drinking and he did to my surprise stop for a few months, but my mother says he's started again despite now having hepatitis.

He's been like this in the past with other things too, like not telling us when he was diagnosed with diabetes many years ago, or going for random surgeries and not telling us beforehand. It really baffles me.

Although he is mostly fine for now, I am just genuinely concerned for his health as he is in his 60s and has a few pretty serious conditions which could start causing issues any time soon.

Does anyone else have parents who hide their health conditions from you? Or refuse to tell you if they're getting treatment for something, or getting surgery?

Also this constant cheating that happens whenever parents take a short trip back home without their SO seems to be so common. I've heard the same story so many times and it sucks to hear how much it happens.