LadyT:

I wish our parents spoke about sex more!

LadyT:

My mother was the worse teacher. I remember her teaching me the time I had the hell beaten out of me that day because I kept getting it wrong. After one final knock on the head and pulling of the cheek I concentrated and got it right. As I grew older though I sometimes wished she would just smack me and get it over with. Her lectures are like hell they go on and on and on then you lose concentration and she would ask you to repeat what she said. If you got it wrong the talking or rather screaming would start again. Even after you have been sent to your room as soon as she saw you again the ranting will continue with the addition of bringing up past sins!

I wish our parents spoke about sex more!

chic2pimp:

Mum chased away any female friends that came visting cuz i was allegedly 'Too Young' to have GF's. I clearly remember this occasion I think I must have been 13 years old and this pretty 15 year old came looking for me. Mum refused to let her in.  In my act of desperation, I think I must have used all the tricks in the book from 'She is my friend's elder sister' to 'She came over to teach my maths' but still she refused her let in. Still haven't forgiven her till tis day.

dayokanu:

He gave me a beating plan: first day 60strokes, 2nd day 24 and 3rd day 12. (I have to discount slaps and kicks in between and some bonus beatings)

oyinda.:

lol. Your mom knew you inside out huh?

what's the big deal about sex education sef.
the only children that need explicit sex education in my opinion are the ones that start having sex early (maybe due to bad friends etc). and such a child is probably already a lost cause.
most decent kids don't really need it.

My dads gift for getting good grades were either Further Math Project by Sivasubramaniam or Godman textbooks

each teacher that walked pass where I knelt down gave me a slap or knock in the head

chika98:

^^ Care to share some of em with us?

bk.babe97y:

Damn, looks like most of yall was abused as kids! Well, mines was my folks always warning me to stay away from anyone whose names started with "CHI" or "ADA" or "OBI", cause they was most likely Ibo and more prone to trying to kidnap my fine aszz, barbecue, then eat me for lunch- - - - or wuteva it is Ibo men do with kids they kidnap!

Joking, dont go bring out the Gatlings!

LOOLx i heard that too while grewing up as a kid, it wasn't true at all it was just a tribalistic thingy on the igbo people, a lot is also said about the Yorubas too. gracias tantro x)

S@mi:

[size=10pt][font=Maiandra GD]Chiéé !!! Enough stories flying up & down sounds funny to me but they still remain the fact. I could still remember some bad experience back then when my parents won't allow me to join my friends in playing football and whenever I return late from school " Oh damn  my mom ill tell me to[b] pick pin for an hour +[/b] , there was a certain time I had a poor result at school Oh damn, my parents ceased me from watching tv, playing video games, friends weren't a

Kilode?!:

Nope, I already shared my "wise" thoughts on page 5; https://www.nairaland.com/nigeria?topic=511646.msg6796826#msg6796826  


If you insist, just take a few koboko lashes out of Dayokanu's stories, mellow his dad down just a little bit and you pretty much have mine

chika98:

People won't really understand how painful that is. To pick pin! The worst kinda thing ever!



An uncle of mine flogged and told me that he would leave a mark on my body so that I would never forget telling him " I will get you a cup of water when i am done"
I start have the scar to show for that! I mean I wonder how a grown man would beat a little girl with the intent to leave a scar on her body.
Now he wonders why I never call him.

mydreamz:

My dad did that to my brother a lot, now he has scars all over his body. And my dad wonders why my brother never get along with him now.

dayokanu:

Tpiah,

The beating actually hardened me. I wanted to get away from home, I hated holidays and I was praying govt would make school all-year round.

All the beating made me a better liar, cos the consequence of telling the truth or telling half baked lies were too much to imagine.

Thus I grew up in a house full of people but I was alone, My sisters were also first class (Amebos) who would try to outdo themselves in who has more tales to tell about Dayo to our parents. So I learnt how to live in solitude and be my own companion

Most of the times when I talk to my dad now, Its usually in monologues Unless we are discussing football or Israel vs Palestine wars

Later we had a discussion and he told me about his own life story how his parents never really cared for his education, I believed he did most of what he did because of the fear that he doesnt want be to turn out a failure in life.

My dads gift for getting good grades were either Further Math Project by Sivasubramaniam or Godman textbooks

Ha!

Hmm, my own experience still remain the worst I pray no one ever go through. Got to a point in my life that I asked myself if I was adopted.

Right from the moment I started knowing my right from wrong, my dad would treat me as grown up ( age 7 to be precise). He would beat me mercilessly for playing with neighbours children, flogged my a.s.s out for disliking a particular kind of food, he would kick me heavily for playing football, slapped me often for chosen to go to school rather than learn a trade or handwork.

He would use his siren car to warn of his imminent arrival at home (he worked for the army, though not one himself) i.e he would start this noisy thing to disengage me from any activity I was having with friends, he smacked me at the slightest provocation, beat me whenever I cautioned my lil sister and lots more.

He died seven years ago and still beats me in the dream until about seven months ago when I said enough is enough. My Pastor also joined me in the prayers.

I have actually forgiven him long time ago. Before his untimely death, on his sickbed, he looked at me and say, 'son, don't let me die', and I said to him father, do you believe in Jesus?, he nodded and right there he accepted Jesus into his life. Few days later, he was gone.

snthesis:

the fear of my papa's koboko  was d beginning of wisdom (how come most ppl rememba koboko- ws it a standard issue bac in d days i.e. once u became a dad u were automatically given one). i have neva called my father Dad- tis either Papa or Sir, neva got a hug, twas always a miracle if he remembered my bday. Once i've been dumped in d boarding house -dey 4got all abt me- visiting day didnt exist in dier dictionary.


from all the experiences posted so far small wonder boarding houses was hell, people actually transferred the anger/lessons learnt from home and transferred it to the juniors, i had more than my fair share of whooping from so called seniors unfortunately for me i didnt get to inflict my own cos by then the school system had changed

ElRazur:

@Dayokanu

How was the whole "dad apologising" thing feels? I think it was something I would have wanted to get out of my dad. I suppose it must have been a relief?

My brother did manage to get him to see his ways were wrong. After X amount of long reality talk between my father and my brother, my dad didn't sleep for the night, he was just down and thinking all night.

I mean, who are we back then to dare say he was wrong or he did something unacceptable? He towered over us like a giant, and instead of respect I feel it was more about fear.

I can remember him coming home, and I am shitting myself thinking I have done something wrong, even though I've been in my room studying all day. SMH. To me, that is just wrong.

When it comes to discipline, the combination of huge wires as a form of whip and Corporal punishment was borderline abuse I think. It just got to a stage that my skin become naturally resistant to the lash that I just tend to shake them off. But gosh, they beatings do hurt.

I remember one of the most humiliating moment in my life, it was in ilorin and I must have lied to my dad out of the fear of him finding out and beating the Jesus out of me, but anyway he did find I lied and he flogged me right in front of the class I just felt the ground should open up and swallow me.


Apart from my dad, I also lived with my Sister in Lagos and her treatment was just a systematic abuse, and one of the many reasons we just don't get along. I was taken from a science school in Lokoja and thrown into a public school in Lagos, while her own kids attended Federal Government Colleges. Then there's the subtle mental and physiological abuses like she buys the best of the best for her kids, and I have to make do with something that stands out that I am different.

Take one of these for instance, I was in Morocco Comprehensive High School in Jibowu, and when I finished, I have to trek all the way to Mushin to go and give a helping hand at the shop, there is little or not time to read, and going to her shop after school is mandatory as I am not allowed to go home in shomolu (Which is just about 15 mins walk away) but go all the way to mushin. The had tremendous impact on my ability as a student, but somehow some way I managed to pull it through. On comparison, when her kids finish from school, they get picked up and dropped at home where they can study etc. Oh and when we close for the day at mushin, I will have to carry all the cooking for the family on my head and walk back to Shomolu, while she takes a bus most times. I know this is hard for most to see as the truth, but I really have nothing to lie about.

There have been times I get fed up with how I am treated at my sister and I do rebel. So what will be the punishment? I am denied food for a week. No joke. I will not go to the shop and she will not give me pocket money either, it was painful back then and still painful right now as I am typing it. But yeah, it is wrong and very wrong. . . . .


More to come.

ElRazur:

@Dayokanu

How was the whole "dad apologising" thing feels? I think it was something I would have wanted to get out of my dad. I suppose it must have been a relief?

My brother did manage to get him to see his ways were wrong. After X amount of long reality talk between my father and my brother, my dad didn't sleep for the night, he was just down and thinking all night.

I mean, who are we back then to dare say he was wrong or he did something unacceptable? He towered over us like a giant, and instead of respect I feel it was more about fear.

I can remember him coming home, and I am shitting myself thinking I have done something wrong, even though I've been in my room studying all day. SMH. To me, that is just wrong.

When it comes to discipline, the combination of huge wires as a form of whip and Corporal punishment was borderline abuse I think. It just got to a stage that my skin become naturally resistant to the lash that I just tend to shake them off. But gosh, they beatings do hurt.

I remember one of the most humiliating moment in my life, it was in ilorin and I must have lied to my dad out of the fear of him finding out and beating the Jesus out of me, but anyway he did find I lied and he flogged me right in front of the class I just felt the ground should open up and swallow me.


Apart from my dad, I also lived with my Sister in Lagos and her treatment was just a systematic abuse, and one of the many reasons we just don't get along. I was taken from a science school in Lokoja and thrown into a public school in Lagos, while her own kids attended Federal Government Colleges.  Then there's the subtle mental and physiological abuses like she buys the best of the best for her kids, and I have to make do with something that stands out that I am different.

Take one of these for instance, I was in Morocco Comprehensive High School in Jibowu, and when I finished, I have to trek all the way to Mushin to go and give a helping hand at the shop, there is little or not time to read, and going to her shop after school is mandatory as I am not allowed to go home in shomolu (Which is just about 15 mins walk away) but go all the way to mushin. The had tremendous impact on my ability as a student, but somehow some way I managed to pull it through.  On comparison, when her kids finish from school, they get picked up and dropped at home where they can study etc. Oh and when we close for the day at mushin, I will have to carry all the cooking for the family on my head and walk back to Shomolu, while she takes a bus most times. I know this is hard for most to see as the truth, but I really have nothing to lie about.

There have been times I get fed up with how I am treated at my sister and I do rebel. So what will be the punishment? I am denied food for a week. No joke. I will not go to the shop and she will not give me pocket money either, it was painful back then and still painful right now as I am typing it. But yeah, it is wrong and very wrong.   .      .       .       .  


More to come.

chika98:

You can never relate to people who whooped and did things to you. Children will be children and they ought to be left
alone to do just that disciplined but not overt.  Mischievous ones such as myself got beat more by other people than my own ma. I remember one time
I climbed over the fence to go and "pluck" paw paw at the neighbors house. She caught me red handed. Left the other folks but
gave me the beating of my life! Gave me the broken cane to go and put under my bed so that as to remember when I went to go and
steal. She's our family friend o. My family sure had a word with her afterwards and I loathe her till date.

oyinda.:

what's the big deal about sex education sef.
the only children that need explicit sex education in my opinion are the ones that start having sex early (maybe due to bad friends etc). and such a child is probably already a lost cause.
most decent kids don't really need it.

OMG!!!!!! Are you joking? Please tell me you are. 'decent kids'? What's the definition`?

ElRazur:

Hey, I am not trying to single you out, but as a few pointed already, this is one of the problems with this style of upbringing the some of us have expressed - It seem to goes on. I mean, you wanted to inflict some of yours probably as a result of what you experienced.