Marriage: The Final Boss of Being a Nigerian Child

In many of our cultures, especially across West Africa, marriage is treated as a symbol that someone has finally become mature, responsible, and even moral. I believe some of this pressure is reinforced by patriarchy and misogyny, systems that privilege male authority while placing enormous expectations on women.

But there is a contradiction we do not talk about enough.

In our families, people are suffering from domestic violence and psychological, verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. Yet we often turn a blind eye while celebrating marriage itself with class, loud music, beautiful clothes, and elegant weddings.

For a culture so committed to marriage, are we equally committed to healthy families?

I remember being at a function and overhearing a conversation between two African women. One woman mentioned that her parents were divorced. The other made a remark that seemed intended to downgrade her family because of it. What struck me was that, from what she shared, her own parents had never really lived together and there were obvious signs of family strife.

But somehow, divorce was the greater shame.

This mentality appears in religion too. Narcissistic and abusive behaviour within our families and religious communities can be tolerated, excused, and even upheld. Children may be told to obey abusive fathers for fear of hellfire, while scriptures warning fathers not to provoke their children to anger receive far less attention.

Religion, parental authority, and spousal authority can all become tools for maintaining power.

Then there is the pressure simply to marry. Some people get married to satisfy family expectations, escape constant questioning, or prove that they have reached adulthood, not necessarily because the relationship is loving, sensible, safe, or healthy.

Staying in an unhealthy marriage should not be a badge of honour.

I hope we begin valuing safe, emotionally healthy relationships as much as we value marriage itself, both back home and throughout the diaspora.

I raise a glass to that.