What It Means To Be A Boy In Africa

The world celebrated International Day of the Boy Child, and I went into solitude to reflect on my growth as a boy in Africa.

Growing up, I always had a constant reminder that “I am a man.” Aunties and uncles whispered into my ears that soon, I would have my own family. Therefore, I had to start acting like a man. Elders threw proverbs into our conversations to buttress this point. At that time, I was barely a teenager.

It is said that when a boy child is born, so also are his problems. He cannot waste his time chasing rats when his house is on fire. He must start early enough to tackle these problems and challenges, or else they will see to his end. He is not allowed to play with toys because it is considered feminine. Just like Jesus in the Bible, he must follow in the footsteps of his father.

When I eventually became a teenager, I was told that my dreams were not enough. I was made to feel that dreaming itself was irresponsible. I was condemned because I dreamt of becoming a writer. I had written two novels. The first was set in military Nigeria, while the second  a story that resonates with my soul, was set in a fictional country in West Africa.

I urged my relatives to read my first drafts, convinced that I would publish these books and become famous like my idols: Chinua Achebe, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Chigozie Obioma and Tomi Adeyemi. I even brought home the stacks of articles and essays from my school locker. But they refused, reminding me of my responsibilities as a man and my position as the first son in the family. I had younger siblings to train in school, and it would be in the family’s best interest for me to quit daydreaming and head to Lagos with my uncles to learn a trade.

However, I managed to convince my mother, who appeared to be as confused as I was.

Back in school, I faced sexual advances from the opposite gender. We were teenagers; young adults going through puberty. And it was expected, even though it was not written into law, that one would become intimate.

The church preached against fornication. The school curriculum taught us to avoid unprotected sex. Our parents warned us to avoid sexual relations entirely. But in between all the caution, society encouraged us to hold hands and walk home together every evening after school. During weekends, everyone stood on their balconies discussing the hottest relationships in town.

Every boy wanted to be identified among the calibre of “the big guys.” They were ready to offer anything to maintain a relationship with the opposite gender.

Worse still, devilish eyes started piercing into my younger sister’s dress. They lingered for so long that I developed a bad feeling. I warned them off harshly and became fiercely protective of her.

To solidify my stance, I turned down every sexual advance. They were immature, and I was not ready for sexual relationships. I had once read in a newspaper about a boy who committed suicide because his girlfriend broke up with him. This scared me to my bone marrow. I desisted from relationships anything related to “boyfriend-girlfriend” affairs. I did this despite the gossip coming from different angles. Some called me a “Jew guy” while others described me as a weakling. Nonetheless, I moved forward, knowing fully well that society would be alright with or without me.

When I thought I had won, I was lectured on the importance of financial independence as a young man. The vision of every young man is to make money before he clocks twenty. This became the centre of discussion in my peer groups and circles.

Everyone wants to be wealthy and compete with the richest man in the world. One can connect this to the fact that these boys, who were yet to attain the legal age of maturity, bear the burden of their so-called responsibilities. So whenever they choose a career path, what should be a means of self-discovery, intent, and purpose becomes a means of survival. Instead of becoming problem-solvers, they become part of the problem to be solved.

We have always ignored the truth because the truth is so bitter that its taste will reveal the secrets hidden behind our sealed lips. If we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that society has contributed immensely to the moral decay of the boy child.

Many boys perform masculinity to prove the worth of the organ between their legs to society.

Society pressures boys to be emotionally distant. They live by the philosophy of “anything can go.” Their dreams do not count; they are expected to live for communal expectations.

Perhaps, the best way to heal the boy child is to give him the freedom to become human first. The boy child should be allowed to grow at his own pace, with love and care, while bearing the equality of genders in mind.