I think one of the quietest tragedies of this generation is how quickly young people are forced to become adults.
In many Nigerian homes, childhood does not last very long. At some point, you stop being seen as a child and start being reminded to “be serious with life.” Sometimes it happens so naturally that you barely notice it. One day you are worrying about school assignments and what to wear for birthdays. The next, people are asking what your plans are, how you will make money, and what you want to become in the future.
And suddenly, life no longer feels soft.
I remember when growing up used to sound exciting. Adulthood looked like freedom. It looked like independence, confidence, and finally being understood. But nobody really talks about the exhaustion that comes with growing up too fast. Nobody talks about what happens when young people start carrying emotional weight they were never prepared for.
These days, it feels like everybody is chasing something. In Lagos especially, life moves so quickly that resting almost feels illegal. Everywhere you look, people are hustling. Somebody is starting a business. Somebody is relocating. Somebody is becoming successful online. Social media constantly reminds young people that they should already be building a perfect life, even while they are still trying to understand themselves.
Sometimes it feels like there is no room left to simply be young.
I think social media made growing up feel performative. People no longer just experience life quietly; they present it. There is pressure to look successful, attractive, emotionally unbothered, and productive all the time. Even struggling now comes with aesthetics. Everybody wants a “soft life,” but very few people talk honestly about how hard life already feels behind the scenes.
And because of that, many people are tired in ways they cannot even explain.
Some young people become “mature” because life forces them to. In many families, especially in African homes, children learn responsibility early. You learn to suppress emotions, help carry family problems, and endure things quietly because that is what strength is supposed to look like. People praise you for being mature, not realizing that maturity sometimes comes from survival.
What looks like independence is sometimes loneliness.
I think about that often. About how many young people are trying so hard to stay afloat that they never really experience the freedom of being young. There is a certain sadness in always feeling like you are running out of time before your life has even properly started.
Sometimes I miss when life felt slower. Before every moment became about productivity. Before resting started feeling like laziness. Before everybody began comparing their lives to strangers on the internet.
But I also think healing begins when people allow themselves to slow down.
Maybe growing up is not supposed to mean becoming emotionally numb. Maybe strength is not carrying everything alone. Maybe real growth is learning how to protect the soft parts of yourself in a world that constantly tries to harden you too early.
And maybe that softness is not weakness after all.
Maybe it is the one thing worth holding onto.