I was born in 1996, the first child in a family of five. From the moment I could walk, I became the second adult in the house—except no one gave me a choice.
While other children were playing outside and living carefree lives, I was helping my mum watch over my siblings, boiling rice, running errands, and babysitting at age 9.
They called it “being responsible.”
But honestly? It felt like I was born into a burden I didn’t ask for.
🧒🏾 From Sibling to Substitute Parent
As a firstborn in a Nigerian home, your childhood ends early.
When my younger brother fell sick at night, I was the one carrying him on my back to the pharmacy.
When school fees couldn’t be paid, I was told to manage and wait, while my siblings’ fees were somehow sorted.
Even when my father lost his job in 2008, it was me they looked at with hope in their eyes—as if I could provide, even though I was just 12.
🎓 Pressure Disguised as Love
In university, things got worse.
I studied Nursing—not because I loved it, but because it was what my parents wanted. I got a scholarship, did side hustles, and sent money home from my NYSC allowance.
No one asked how I survived in camp. Nobody even knew I used to trek long distances just to save ₦100 for food.
All they said was:
“God will bless you for all you’re doing.”
“Your siblings are looking up to you.”
“You’ll enjoy when they start working.”
But when?
Even now that I have a job, I’m still paying school fees. Still sending upkeep money. Still settling hospital bills. And sometimes—still starving.
😞 The Emotional Weight We Carry
Being the firstborn means you always have to be “strong.”
You can’t cry.
You can’t complain.
You can’t break down—even when everything is falling apart.
You wear your suffering like a badge of honor.
You’re the one they call when there’s trouble—but when you’re the one drowning, no one notices.
Even when you try to open up, they say:
“Don’t worry, you’re the eldest. You’ll be fine.”
But who prays for the firstborn?
Who tells us “well done” without attaching a request?
Who asks how we’re really doing?
🧠 What I’ve Learned So Far
Not every firstborn is okay. Many of us are silently depressed.
It’s okay to say NO sometimes.
Sacrifice is good—but not when it kills your peace.
If you’re a parent reading this—love all your children, not just the youngest.
If you’re a sibling—appreciate your elder ones. They’ve done more than you’ll ever know.
📖 If You’re a Firstborn Like Me…
Just know this:
You’re not alone.
You’ve done more than enough.
And you deserve love too—not just responsibility.
