Search
Follow our Whatsapp Channel
Follow us on Instagram
Get Inspiration on Pinterest
Talk about it on X
Two Love Stories, Two Different Paths — Davido, Mr Eazi, and the Freedom to Choose Your Own Wedding
Being the Firstborn in a Nigerian Family — The Weight Nobody Talks About
Life After School: What’s Next?

Being the Firstborn in a Nigerian Family — The Weight Nobody Talks About

Being the firstborn in a Nigerian family feels like carrying love and responsibility at the same time. You’re expected to lead, provide, and stay strong — even when no one sees your silent struggles.
firstborn in a Nigerian family

Growing up as the firstborn in a Nigerian family feels like stepping into a role you never applied for. One day, you’re just a child, trying to figure out who you are, and the next, you’ve suddenly become a mini-parent, expected to lead, provide, and set an example.

The younger ones get to enjoy childhood a little longer, but for you, responsibility starts earlier than expected. You carry the weight of dreams that aren’t just yours, and sometimes, it feels like your life belongs to everyone else before it belongs to you.

From the moment you arrive, eyes are on you. You are the one who must not fail. If your grades slip, it is not just about you; it becomes a family concern because the younger ones are told to learn from your mistakes. If you succeed, you are paraded as the model child. Then, as soon as you are old enough, the expectations shift again. You graduate, and suddenly the family begins to look to you as the backup plan.

You may still be trying to find your footing. Still, there is already a silent list of responsibilities waiting—helping to pay school fees, supporting the household, taking care of younger siblings, sometimes even covering medical bills. You become the one who carries everyone, even while you are still learning how to stand on your own.

firstborn in a Nigerian family

And yet, what people don’t often see is the emotional weight that comes with this role. Behind the calm face, many firstborns are fighting battles nobody knows about. You’re expected to be strong, to never break, to always have it together. But who do you cry to when you are the one everyone cries to? Who checks on you when everyone assumes you are the one who should be doing the checking? It’s a lonely place to be sometimes. You love your family, you want the best for them, but the truth is, there are days when you wish someone would pause and ask how you are holding up.

This burden has a way of shaping people. It teaches resilience, it teaches leadership, it teaches sacrifice.

Look at someone like Funke Akindele. Her journey to becoming one of Nigeria’s most celebrated filmmakers wasn’t without setbacks. She faced failure, but her discipline and sense of responsibility shaped her ability to bounce back stronger than ever.

Or consider Tony Elumelu, whose rise in business is tied to years of discipline and carrying not just himself, but others along with him. Responsibility has a way of building character, and many firstborns don’t realize that the weight they carry is the same weight that’s building them into the strong, dependable people they are becoming.

Still, strength doesn’t mean firstborns don’t deserve grace. Too often, they are painted as superheroes, as if they don’t have human emotions or limits. The truth is, being strong doesn’t erase the fact that they feel tired, overwhelmed, and even scared sometimes.

Firstborns deserve to be told, “It’s okay if you don’t have it all figured out.” They deserve to be appreciated for the countless invisible sacrifices they’ve made. They deserve to chase their own dreams without being made to feel guilty for it.

So if you are the firstborn in your family, here’s something you need to remember: you are not failing just because you feel tired. You are not selfish for wanting a life of your own. You are not weak because you also need help. Your journey may be heavier, but it is also shaping you into someone extraordinary. Every sacrifice you make is a seed that will one day bloom, even if right now it feels like nobody sees it.

Being the firstborn in a Nigerian family is not easy. It is a constant balance of love and pressure, duty and desire, strength and silent struggles. But it is also proof that you were trusted with a role that not everyone could handle.

So thank you. For the bills you’ve paid when you didn’t have enough, for the dreams you paused so others could chase theirs, for the strength you showed when no one else noticed your tears. You may not always hear it, but you deserve to be celebrated too.

If you’re a firstborn, what’s the one thing you wish people understood about you? Share it in the comments — someone out there needs to read your truth.

Add a comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *