I’m building @techoffhack the show that will replace @BBNaija A tech reality show. First Episode out: https://t.co/25qo9ZlaxS

No code freeze for mobility team. Guess who’s on mobility team. 😔

I see a lot of Honda Accord in Akure, especially the same 2008 model I use. I have one question: who are you all’s “rewire” (electrical technicians)? I’ve seen shege with this wiring problems! 😭 Epp me.

The gift of adulthood is the chance to rebuild your relationship with failure. To use the strengths your upbringing gave you, and then add the one thing it didn’t — permission to fail boldly and rise even stronger. That combination? Unstoppable.

They optimized us for their world. We must optimize ourselves for ours. And in this world, failure isn’t a death sentence — it’s data. It’s direction. It’s part of mastery.

So the real balance is this: Our parents gave us the fuel — discipline, resilience, ambition. Adulthood requires us to add the missing ingredient — psychological safety.

When you raise a child to fear being wrong, you unintentionally raise an adult who only attempts what they’re sure they can succeed at.

Leadership requires vulnerability. Entrepreneurship requires repeated trial and error. Creativity thrives on being wrong, adjusting, and trying again.

The same system that produced excellent doctors and engineers rarely produced inventors, creatives, founders, or explorers. Because innovation requires failure.

So the parenting model did work — for survival and for predictable career paths. But those strengths came with limitations.

3. High achievement in structured paths. Medicine, law, engineering, finance — these careers reward discipline and precision. The “don’t fail” upbringing fits them perfectly, which is why African kids often excel globally.

2. Work ethic. We over-prepare, we over-deliver, we study and rehearse because we were raised to believe that anything less is unacceptable.

And from that system came real strengths: 1. Resilience. Growing up under pressure made many of us incredibly tough. We endure stress in ways that surprise the world.

The strict, high-expectation style of African homes didn’t come from wickedness; it came from survival. Our parents lived in environments with slim margins for error. Mistakes had consequences. Their intensity was an attempt to shield us.

In childhood, fear of failure protected you from punishment. In adulthood, fear of failure prevents you from growth. But there is a balance here — and it’s important to acknowledge it.

They pick careers that feel “safe.” They avoid projects unless they’re certain they’ll succeed. They are brilliant but afraid to be beginners. They don’t publish, build, or create because they fear looking incompetent for five minutes.

You were praised for getting it right the first time. You were punished for trying something new and stumbling. So you grow up impressive on paper but hesitant in practice. And that hesitation follows many adults today:

This is where the cultural conflict appears. We were raised in a system that taught us to avoid the very thing adulthood requires. African parenting often rewarded compliance, perfection, and high performance — not experimentation, curiosity, or iteration.

Failure is where you learn what not to do, and that knowledge is sometimes more valuable than talent or opportunity. When the big moment finally comes, you don’t panic — because you’ve already fallen, recovered, and learned ten times before.

But adulthood runs on a completely different operating system. As an adult, you actually need to fail. You need to fail enough times to collect the insights, instincts, and scars that become your advantage later.

Those weren’t just jokes. They were a philosophy. Failure wasn’t treated as feedback — it was treated as shame. So children learned early that the safest path in life is the one where you’re already sure you’ll excel.