On a recent drive with my mum, a car jumped in front of her and made her brake sharply. I was visibly spooked. My mum, amused, looked at me and said in Yoruba “You’re so fearful.” She turned her attention back to the road and left me to ponder the irony of her statement. It was ironic because my mum is one of the most fearful people I know. In fact, many of her fears border on irrational.
When I was younger, my mum was afraid my brothers and I would get pneumonia from using air conditioning. So whenever she was home, which was all the time, our ACs went unused. She was also afraid that the flavouring in noodles would give us cancer and that using pillows would ruin our necks. In addition, we were warned against using toothpicks because they’re addictive and banned from receiving long phone calls just because.
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So you can understand why it’s so rich that my mum, the original fearmonger, thinks I’m too fearful. The exchange made me think deeply about some of my fears and where they came from. I replayed conversations with my dad where he told me that South Africa is a terrible place to live. He had so many convincing stats that my teenage brain had no choice but to agree with him. So now I don’t like South Africa because my daddy says it’s no good.
I remember my mum freezing whenever she had to drive past a large truck. One day she actually screamed “Blood of Jesus” when a truck was passing by. Apparently, she was afraid because she was stuck between the vehicle and a deep ditch. I knew she had more than enough room on both sides, but still I became deathly afraid of trucks. Thanks mum.
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It’s amazing isn’t it? How we pack on our parents’ fears and biases without any investigation of our own. Mummy and daddy said this so it must be the gospel truth. As I move towards a more intentional existence, I’m determined to throw off the excess baggage I have unconsciously accepted from my parents and forebears. I sincerely hope you’ll do the same, because every journey is better when you travel light.
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