There are some sentences that can instantly transport an African child back into survival mode.
One of them is:
“Your father is coming!”
And suddenly, chaos became order.
The shouting stopped.
The TV volume dropped.
Homework appeared from nowhere.
Children who had been fighting moments ago sat quietly like saints preparing for judgment day.
If you grew up in an African household in the 90s, you already understand this level of fear and respect.
This was because African parents didn’t need parenting books.
They didn’t need reward charts and they most definitely didn’t need to count to three.
An African mother could control an entire room with one eye signal.
Honestly, that eye signal was basically an entire communication system.
One look across the room and you instantly knew:
- “Stop that right now.”
- “We’ll discuss this at home.”
- “Don’t embarrass me in front of visitors.”
- “If you continue, your ancestors may meet you today.”
…
No words were needed, really.
Just eye contact and spiritual pressure.
Somehow, every African child understood the intended message immediately.
African mothers mastered silent communication at levels the military should probably study.
That slight eyebrow raise?
It was a sign of danger.
The “come here” finger curl?
Final warning.
The calling of your full government name?
Start preparing emotionally and spiritually, hahaha!.
The funniest part is that African parents could hold an entire conversation in public without moving their lips.
And children understood every message perfectly.
Honestly, African parenting created children with elite-level situational awareness.
You learned how to detect danger early.
You could read:
- moods,
- footsteps,
- silence,
- tones,
- the sound of plates,
- the way doors were closed,
- and even the atmosphere inside the house.
…
You knew your mother was angry before she even entered the compound.
But fathers?
Fathers were different entirely!
In many African homes, fathers existed almost like demigods.
You heard them before you saw them.
The sound of the gate opening.
The cough.
The footsteps.
The clearing of the throat.
Those sounds alone could reset the atmosphere in the entire house.
Children were usually closer to their mothers because mothers were the emotional bridge of the family. They defended you after punishment, fed you secretly, softened your father’s anger, and translated impossible instructions into understandable language.
But fathers represented authority.
You respected them deeply and sometimes, feared them deeply too.
One look from your father and you knew you were completely finished.
You could be laughing one second and suddenly become the most responsible child in Africa.
Somehow, these were the systems that raised many of us.
Back then, parenting in many African homes was rooted in survival, discipline, respect, and community.
Children were not raised only by parents.
They were raised by the neighborhood.
Any adult could correct you outside.
And when you as a child got home, your parents would likely support the adult before even hearing your own side of the story.
Today, that would probably become a Facebook debate.
But the world changed.
Parenting changed.
Society changed.
Children changed too.
Modern parenting especially in many Western societies leans more toward emotional expression, negotiation, individuality, and open communication with children.
Children today are encouraged to ask questions.
To explain their feelings.
To understand why rules exist.
And honestly, there’s beauty in that too.
Because many adults from older generations are now realizing that fear alone is not always the same thing as respect.
Some people grew up disciplined but emotionally distant from their parents.
Some became responsible adults but struggled with vulnerability, emotional expression, or feeling safe making mistakes.
At the same time, many people also feel modern parenting sometimes swings too far in the opposite direction — producing children who struggle with resilience, accountability, boundaries, or respect for authority.
So somewhere between fear and freedom, many families are searching for balance.
Still, there’s something unforgettable about growing up African in the 90s.
People remember the hardship, strictness, and discipline…
but they also remember strong family bonds, shared responsibility, resilience, and community.
We miss the laughter outside at night.
The shared meals.
The respect for elders.
The neighborhood parenting.
The feeling that parents truly carried authority inside the home.
We miss mothers who could discipline a child from across the room without saying a single word.
And we definitely remember fathers whose mere arrival could restore peace instantly.
Now we laugh about those memories online.
We turn them into memes and jokes.
But beneath the humor is something deeper:
An entire generation shaped by discipline, silence, sacrifice, resilience, survival, and community.
Not perfect or always healthy.
But very unforgettable.
And honestly?
Every single person who grew up in an African household felt this.
I did.
Did you?
If you grew up in this era or even heard about it from other cultures or communities, please share your experiences and opinions in the comments section.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
Love relationships? We promise to have a good one with your inbox.
Subcribe to get 3x weekly dating and relationship advice.
Did you know? We have 8 publications on Medium. Join us there!
***
–
Photo credit: Lawrence Crayton on Unsplash
