Like many of you know the economy has seen better days. This shouldn’t be news to those even if they have been living under a rock for the past year since this seems to be the living conditions of many Americans courtesy of Mr. and Mrs. Foreclosure. In addition, to being too lazy to find another place to live I decided to live at home since it was cheaper. How could I turn down the endless supply of jollof rice, malt, and the occasional shopping spree. Plus, I told myself that it was just for a year until medical school. It couldn’t be that bad. Well I was wrong- for some reason I had momentarily forgotten I had Nigerian Parents.
Being that I plan to spend my next four years in medical school I decided to enjoy my “free time.” A few weeks ago, I met up with friends for happy hour and then was somehow convinced to go out to a lounge in DC. It was fun catching up with friends that I had not seen in a while and next thing I knew it was 3am. Dashing home, hoping they were asleep so I wouldn’t get scolded at. I quietly opened the door. Tried to run up the stairs but he had awaken. “Do you know what time is it? Where did you go” (Like I had not told him earlier). “Never again, Next time I don’t want you out later than 11 pm.” Cool I have a curfew, I am finally the envy of all the 22 year olds I know.
Next weekend, I attended a birthday dinner. Texted the parental just in case I didn’t make it home by my curfew. The birthday dinner ended slightly earlier than I expected. Went to sleep woke up the next morning. “Where did you go?” (déjà vu much) I jokingly asked him what time did you come back (since I knew he had attended a party and didn’t come back until 3am)…..wrong idea. “Am I your age mate?” I took a deep sigh knowing this was a battle of respect and control that I simply could not win and in the eyes of my parents I will always be a child/treated like one. Which for the time being, I would try not to mind as long as they kept the mountains of jolloff rice flowing.
How my parents still see me
