Segun Ozique

The neon sign at Evking’s Bar flickers as the group settles back into their usual corner. The atmosphere is different tonight - usually, the wait for drinks is filled with banter. Still, tonight, three people at the next table are sitting in total silence, each illuminated by the blue glow of a smartphone. ​Ola starts to pull his phone out to check a score, then catches Nne’s eyes and slowly puts it face down on the table. "I realised something today," Ola says. "I’m physically in my house for five hours before bed, but I’m probably 'present' for about only twenty to thirty minutes. The rest of the time, I'm just a ghost - browsing on my phone or watching TV." ​ ​JENNIFER: ​What you’re describing, Ola, is Technoference. It’s the "New Poverty." We used to measure poverty by lack of food or money; now, we measure it by Attention Scarcity. ​JENNIFER (cont.): ​When you’re "glued to the device," you become less sensitive to your partner an...

The shadows in Elder Ephraim’s garden have grown long, and the air is cool. A heavy silence follows Elder Ephraim’s visitor's narration. Ola looks at the ground, his face a mixture of defence and deep reflection. You speak of growing up in the era of the "unquestionable elder," and the idea that youth now can openly speak and challenge the elders, means they might be rattling the "respect" foundation. ​"I always thought my silence was my strength," Ola says quietly. "That by swallowing my words before my father, I was becoming a 'man of honour.' But now I look at my son, and I realise he isn't honouring me - he's just hiding from me." ​ ​JIDE: ​We’ve been told that our "Respect" is what makes us superior to the West - that we don't abandon our elders. But as Aristotle pointed out in his Nicomachean Ethics, any virtue pushed to the extreme becomes a vice. ​JIDE (cont.): ​When respect is no longer tempered by justi...

The crickets in Elder Ephraim’s garden are in full chorus now, providing a rhythmic backdrop to the deepest conversation of the night. Jide is absent-mindedly tracing the pattern on his glass, looking thoughtful. ​"In my house growing up," Jide says, "we never missed a service. My mother could quote every scripture. But at home, she would continually frown at some of our neighbours, speaking foul of them and sometimes, belittle my father to my hearing. To me, religion was just a uniform we wore on Sundays and some weekdays. It had plenty of ritual, but very little soul." ​OLA: ​But Jide, without the ritual, how do you learn discipline? My kids know that by 8:00 PM, we pray. It gives them a sense of stability. It tells them they belong to something bigger than themselves. Is that not "nourishing the soul"? ​JENNIFER: ​It is, Ola. Rituals provide Security and Continuity. ​In psychology, it is observed that meaningful family routines can reduce anxiety. But t...

The stars are beginning to peek through the canopy of Elder Ephraim’s garden . Ola looks at his phone - a notification from his home security camera shows his children eating dinner with the house-help while he sits with the group. A flicker of guilt crosses his face. ​"My kids spend more waking hours with their Nanny, Aunty Blessing than with me," Ola says quietly. "She knows their favourite songs, their secret handshakes, and even when they’re about to catch a cold. Sometimes my wife and I feel like guests in our own home, paying the bills for a life we are barely witnessing." ​ BISOLA: ​It’s the Lagos reality, Ola. We bring young girls from the village to be "economic lifelines" for their families, and in return, they become the primary architects of our children’s character. But there’s a fear there - we are leaving our most precious "possessions" with strangers we barely know. ​ JENNIFER: ​And that affects Bonding . Research shows that...

The sun has almost vanished now, as the solar lanterns in Elder Ephraim’s garden are beginning to glow, casting a warm light on the group. Jide is laughing quietly, shaking his head at a memory. ​"I have one more topic I need your opinions on." He says, "My son asked me how a refrigerator actually works last week," Jide admits. "I started explaining something about 'cold magnets' and 'trapped winter air.' I was halfway through a complete lie before I realized I was just terrified of him thinking I’m not the 'all-knowing' dad. I was performing, not parenting." ​ JENNIFER: ​Jide, that "Cold Magnet" story is exactly what we call the Pressure to be Perfect . Parents often equate knowledge with authority. If you don't know the answer, you feel like you’re losing your "power." ​ NNE: ​But from a teen’s perspective, we can usually tell when you're faking. When you lie to cover your ignorance, it doesn'...

The sun is beginning to dip behind the mango trees in Elder Ephraim’s garden , casting long, soft shadows. Ola is staring at his empty hands, his voice unusually quiet. ​"I lost my purse last week," Ola admits. "Cards, ID, everything. My first instinct wasn't to shout; it was to vanish. I went into my room, locked the door, and didn't speak to anyone for two days. I thought I was 'dealing with it privately' to protect my family from my stress. But then I see them watching the door, waiting for me to come out... and I realised I wasn't teaching strength as I ought to but teaching that when life hits you, you disappear." ​ JENNIFER: ​Ola, what you did is a common reaction, but resilience isn't about not feeling the stress. It’s the ability to experience that frustration without getting "stuck." ​ JENNIFER (cont.): ​Resilience is measured by your Recovery Speed . Is it a rough hour or a rough three days? If you shut down for two ...

The setting today has shifted from the smoky, vibrant atmosphere of Evking’s Bar to the serene, sun-dappled beauty of Elder Ephraim’s garden . Surrounded by blooming hibiscus and the scent of damp earth, the Group is seated in wicker chairs, sipping freshly squeezed juice. ​Elder Ephraim looks at his well-tended plants and sighs. "You see these flowers? A degree in botany tells you their names, but only the skill of a gardener makes them grow. Our children are being taught the names, but are they being taught how to plant?" ​ JIDE: ​I look at our civil servants in Nigeria. They spend 30 years with a degree, building "experience" that is just repeating the same year 30 times. When they retire, the "box" disappears, and they realize they don't have the skills to build a business. They retire into misery. We can’t let our children fall into that 30-year trap. ​ OLA: ​But Jide, without that degree, you can’t even get through the door! My distress as...

The generator at Evking’s Bar is humming a little louder tonight, almost as if it's trying to drown out the notification pings from the group’s phones. Ola is staring at a photo on his feed—a local "influencer" family in matching white lace, looking seren, elegant and flawless. ​"Look at this," Ola says, turning his phone around to each of the group members. "They look like they live in their private Island, as if they’ve never had a cross word between them or mistakenly, ever spilled bowl of soup in their lives. Meanwhile, I left home and travelled by public transport this morning and spent over one hour looking for my purse after I dropped from bus where, I suspected that as a result of my not paying proper attention someone someone may have picked my pocket. I feel like a failure just looking at this." JIDE: ​We’ve stopped living and started performing . We’re handing our kids a map to a city that doesn't exist. If they think 'Home' ...

Evking’s Bar. A plate of spicy gizzard sits between them, cooling as the debate heats up. Ola is looking at his phone, tracking his daughter’s location for the fifth time in an hour. ​"I can't help it," Ola sighs. "The world is different now. One minute they are catching a bus, the next they are on a news headline. How can I let her 'fail safely' when the stakes feel like life or death?" ​Elder Ephraim chuckles, a dry, raspy sound. "Ola, when I was ten to 18 years old, I still go to the bush catching snails and roasting corn over fires we built ourselves. My parents' only instruction was 'Don't come back after dark.' We learned that fire burns and water drowns by experiences. Today, you parents are like human bubble wrap ir behavourial police." JIDE: ​We have to face it - the world isn’t actually more dangerous than it was thirty years ago. Statistics show that in many ways, it’s safer. But we are fed a diet of Sensational...

The generator at Evking’s Bar kicks in with a low thrum as Bisola finishes her story. She had just detailed her cousin's gruelling transition from an apprentice in the male-dominated spare parts markets of Mushin to owning her own automotive logistics firm. ​"They didn't just dislike her," Bisola says, leaning back. "They resented her for being better. When she organised the inventory more efficiently than the men who had been there for twenty years, she wasn't just a 'supervisor' anymore—she was a threat to their entire identity as 'Kings of the Shop.'" JENNIFER: ​What Bisola’s cousin faced is Status Incongruity. When a woman outperforms men in a "male sanctuary," it challenges the psychological blueprint that says men are "innately" more capable. This isn't just a social quirk; it’s an economic strategy to keep the "boxes" small. ​[02] OLA: ​But is it really a "blueprint"? Aren't we just r...

The rain has finally stopped, leaving the Ikeja air smelling of damp earth, fallen leaves and fruits. Inside Evking’s Bar , the Dynamic Group is huddled around their favourite corner table. Ola is tapping rhythmically on his phone case, looking a bit sheepish. ​"Guys, I have a confession," Ola begins. "Yesterday, I told my teenage son that his cousin is already solving algebra while he is still struggling with ordinary arithmetical questions. I thought I was 'encouraging' him. But he just walked away and didn't touch his books for the rest of the day." ELDER EPHRAIM: ​But Ola, isn't competition the way of the world? If I see the girl next to me running faster on Sports Day, it makes me run faster! If we don't show them the standard, how will they know where to aim? ​ JENNIFER: ​There’s a massive difference, Elder. When a child chooses to run faster, change jobs, or improve at their business because they want to make progress or win, that i...

The humidity at Evking’s Bar is thick, but the atmosphere inside the booth is heavier. Jide is watching a man at the far table. The man is wearing a sharp suit, looking exhausted, and handing a brand-new, high-end tablet to a six-year-old girl who hasn't seen him all week. The girl takes it, but she doesn't look at the screen - she looks at her father, hoping he’ll stay. He doesn't; he opens his laptop. ​"There it is," Jide whispers, nodding toward them. "The Lagos Trade-Off. We trade our hours for Naira, then try to buy back the child's heart with the same Naira. But does the math ever add up?" OLA: ​Look, Jide, life in 2026 is a marathon. If I’m away for 12 hours a day, I want my kids to have the best. I didn’t have a bike or a console when I was young. If I buy it for them, it’s because I love them. Why is that an "escape"? ​JENNIFER: ​It becomes an escape, Ola, when the gift is used to soothe your own anxiety rather than meet the child’...