PART ONE: THE THINGS WE SAY AND THE THINGS WE DO
By Ehmmiê | Lifestyle, WePlayVibes Digital
Life is more than what meets the eye; sometimes, all it takes is a different question to uncover a different truth. So, let’s look closer.
There are certain things you don't need to be taught as a Nigerian. Nobody gathers you in a classroom, hands you a handbook or explains the rules. Somehow, you just grow up knowing them.
You know that some questions are not really questions. Some answers don't necessarily mean what they say. And some family conversations can change direction faster than a driver avoiding a pothole.
There are expressions we use without thinking, expectations we have learnt to live with, and behaviours so familiar that questioning them almost feels strange.
The funny thing? We all know what we're talking about.
Welcome to the unwritten rules of being Nigerian.
The Nigerian GPS
Let's begin with a phrase that deserves its own linguistic investigation: "I'm coming."
Someone asks, "Where are you going?"
You answer, "I'm coming."
Coming where? Going where? Nobody knows. And somehow, the person who asked may even understand exactly what you mean.
Then there's the other version. Someone is waiting for you, perhaps expecting you to arrive in the next ten minutes, and you confidently announce, "I'm coming," even though you're still at home, deciding what to wear.
In Nigeria, "I'm coming" can be a response to a question about your destination, an announcement that you're stepping away briefly or an optimistic estimate of your arrival time.
But there's something particularly interesting about how we use language. We often rely on shared understanding rather than literal meaning. We know that "I'm coming" doesn't always mean the person is physically coming towards us. Context does the heavy lifting.
The same goes for expressions like "I will soon be there" and "I'm on my way." Sometimes, they describe actual movement. Other times, they describe a person's sincere intention to begin moving at some point in the near future.
Perhaps we have developed an entirely different relationship with time and direction. Or perhaps we simply enjoy keeping people guessing.
Either way, if you're new to Nigeria, don't take every expression at face value. You may need a local translator, even when everyone is speaking English.
Love, Lies and Lunch Money
"Have you eaten?"
Four simple words. Yet, depending on who's asking, they can carry the weight of affection, hospitality, romantic interest or an unexpected financial opportunity.
In many Nigerian homes, asking whether someone has eaten is one of the simplest ways to show concern. Food is more than nourishment; it is part of how we welcome people, care for family and express affection. Sometimes, the question is less about the food and more about the person.
But let's talk about what happens when the question enters the talking stage.
Him: Have you eaten, my love?
Her: No, baby.
Him: Oh, my love! What? You haven't eaten by this time? I'm so sorry. Please, try and eat something for me. You know I don't like seeing you hungry.
And there it is. A beautifully packaged expression of concern. The conversation has been emotionally satisfying, but the stomach is still waiting for its own consolation.
Then there's the lady who decides not to waste the opportunity.
Him: Have you eaten?
Her: No. Do you want to buy food for me?
Some ladies may even say they haven't eaten when they actually have, just to see whether the question comes with an offer. And honestly, some men have learnt to ask the question without necessarily opening the food budget.
Of course, not every man who asks is pretending to care, and not every lady who answers "no" is fishing for a meal. Sometimes, it's simply playful banter between two people getting to know each other.
But it raises an interesting question about how we express affection. We sometimes become very comfortable with the language of care without always following it with the actions that make that care tangible.
Not every expression of love has to come with money, gifts or food delivery. Still, there is a difference between acknowledging someone's need and making an effort to respond to it.
So, the next time someone asks whether you've eaten, perhaps the real question is not just what they want to know, but what they mean by asking.
And if you're the one asking, be prepared. The answer might come with a food order.
The Marriage Department
Nigerian parents and relatives have a remarkable talent for turning somebody else's good news into a personal assessment of your life.
You could be sitting peacefully, enjoying a conversation with your mother, when she casually mentions that somebody's daughter is getting married. You smile, congratulate the person and think that's the end of it.
You thought wrong.
Mother: Adamma, I'm just coming back from Mama Nkechi's house. And you know what? Nkechi's younger sister is getting married this week. Hmm! See Nkechi of yesterday ooo, the one who used to run around the neighbourhood in just panties!
Daughter: Aww, that's so sweet. I'm happy for her.
Mother: (Suddenly changing tone) And you're far older than her ooo! Yet you've not brought even one single man to this house. When will you get married and give me grandchildren, eh, Adamma? Do you want me to die?
And just like that, somebody else's wedding has become your personal performance review.
Sometimes, it doesn't even stop with marriage. There's the question of children after marriage, the comparison with cousins who are already settled, and the occasional reminder that your younger sibling is beginning to look like they might overtake you.
Apparently, life has an unofficial timetable, and your relatives have appointed themselves its supervisors.
To be fair, many of these questions come from genuine affection, cultural expectations and parents' hopes of seeing their children settled and happy. Marriage and family are important milestones in many Nigerian households.
But good intentions do not automatically make every question appropriate. When concern becomes constant comparison, it can turn a person's private journey into a public performance.
People have different circumstances, priorities and timelines. Some are still studying, some are building careers, some are navigating relationships, and others are simply not ready for marriage.
A person's life should not become a family competition just because someone else's celebration has arrived.
Marriage is beautiful. So is allowing people the freedom to arrive at it in their own time.
Age Before Accuracy
Now, this is where things can get particularly interesting.
In some Nigerian homes, age is not just a number. It is an argument, a qualification and sometimes the final word in every disagreement.
You could be making a perfectly reasonable point, but once an older person feels challenged, the conversation may suddenly change.
Mother: Adamma, come and do something for me.
Daughter: Mummy, I'm coming. Let me just finish what I'm doing.
Mother: Is that how you answer your mother? Have you forgotten that I'm older than you?
Or consider that familiar uncle who says something questionable, but the moment you attempt to correct him, you hear:
"Is that how you speak to elders? Children of nowadays have no respect!"
At this point, the original discussion has disappeared. You're no longer discussing whether what he said was correct. You're now defending your upbringing.
Respect for elders is an important part of Nigerian culture. It teaches consideration, humility, courtesy and appreciation for experience. There is wisdom in learning from those who have lived longer than us.
However, somewhere along the line, respect has sometimes been confused with unquestioning agreement.
Some younger people genuinely struggle to express disagreement respectfully, and that is worth addressing. But the responsibility cannot rest on them alone. Older people must also recognise that being questioned is not automatically an insult.
An elder can be knowledgeable and still be mistaken. A younger person can have a valid point without being arrogant. And correcting an error does not have to mean dishonouring the person who made it.
The irony is that some people demand the respect they were never willing to demonstrate to others.
Perhaps we need to understand that respect is not a one-way privilege attached to age. It is also reflected in how we listen, how we speak and how we treat people, regardless of how many years separate us.
After all, wisdom should be able to survive a conversation.
The Rules We Inherit
Perhaps the most interesting thing about these unwritten rules is how naturally we pass them from one generation to another.
We inherit expressions, habits, expectations and ways of relating to people. Some make life more colourful. Some preserve beautiful cultural values. Others are simply funny enough to become family jokes.
But familiarity doesn't always mean something should remain unquestioned.
We can laugh about our flexible relationship with time, enjoy the playful negotiations around food, appreciate the excitement of family celebrations and still recognise when certain expectations become unreasonable.
Culture is not made less valuable by thoughtful examination. In fact, perhaps one of the ways we preserve the best of it is by being willing to question the parts that no longer serve us.
And we've only just begun.
There are still the unwritten rules of friendships, money, public behaviour, social expectations and the many things Nigerians do that would probably require a lengthy explanation to someone who didn't grow up here.
For now, let's just say that being Nigerian comes with an unofficial handbook. Nobody has seen the original copy, but somehow, everybody seems to know the contents.
Coming next in The Unwritten Rules of Being Nigerian:
Part Two: The Things Society Expects
Because there's more to being Nigerian than the things we say. Some of our most interesting unwritten rules are revealed in how we behave, what we expect and how we relate to one another.
Stay with Ehmmiê as we look closer.