I recently listened to a powerful podcast conversation between billionaire businessman Dr. Stephen Akintayo, and another trailblazing billionaire, Dr. Cosmas Maduka of Coscharis Group. It wasn’t just a dialogue between two successful businessmen, it was a window into the silent struggles many African children face when their dreams don’t align with their parents’ expectations.

In a now-viral video making the rounds on social media, Dr. Cosmas Maduka openly admitted that African parents can be dream killers, including himself. He recalled that at the age of 11, he rode a motorbike with ease. But when his 16-year-old son expressed the same interest, he stopped him. He went on to share that his last-born child did everything possible to get his permission to ride, but he still refused. One of his sons, however, defied him and learned to ride anyway. “And today,” Dr. Maduka said with a chuckle, “we both ride motorbikes together.”

Dr. Cosmas spoke the minds of many of us who have stories to tell about what we could have become if our parents hadn’t stopped us from pursuing our dreams and aspirations.

Some time ago, I read the story of Super Eagles and Leicester City midfielder Wilfred Ndidi. He narrated how his dream of becoming a footballer did not sit well with his father, who was a soldier. According to him, his father wanted him to go to school and become a lawyer. But instead, he opted for a career in football, much to his father’s chagrin. What surprised me most in the interview was that he said his father is still angry with him for not pursuing a legal career, in spite of his breathtaking success on the pitch.

He is not alone. Even former Super Eagles and Chelsea legend John Obi Mikel faced a similar challenge with his father. I won’t go into my own botched football career, because unlike Dr. Maduka’s third son, Ndidi, and Mikel, I wasn’t stubborn enough to chase my dream of becoming a footballer against my father’s wishes. And I can tell you I’m not alone at this table. There are so many people like me who weren’t stubborn enough with their dreams and bowed to the pressure from their parents.

Even when I ventured into writing in secondary school and informed him, he told me point-blank that I was mad. Maybe he felt I was too young to write a book. But unlike football, I was stubborn with my dream of becoming a writer, so I went from one cybercafé to another, typing out my manuscript. The rest is history. I never regretted my decision and was happy when, recently, he requested a copy of my published book.

Oftentimes, parents take hard stands against their children’s dreams and aspirations due to surrounding circumstances. Where I come from, there was no local footballer who had achieved glory through football. So, my father felt I could not succeed where others tried and failed. But we had successful lawyers, like the first Senior Advocate of Nigeria, who was from my place. So, parents put this into consideration, and they want their children to go to school and become either lawyers or secure white-collar jobs and rise through the ranks.

A friend once confided In me that he wanted to be an artist. He loved painting and had a natural flair for it. But his father insisted he should study accounting, and he did. Today, he works at a bank, wears suits, crunches numbers, and pays bills, but a piece of him feels lost. The joy he once felt holding a brush has been replaced by the quiet regret of what could have been.

We see these stories play out every day. A girl who wants to become a YouTuber is told it’s a waste of time. A boy who dreams of fashion is called unserious. A child who wants to act is branded wayward. And in the end, dreams are buried, sometimes before they’ve even been born.

This is not to say that every dream is viable or that parental guidance is unnecessary. But there is a fine line between guidance and control. Parents have a duty to nurture, to listen, and to guide, not to impose or dictate. Children should be supported to find their own paths, even if those paths are unfamiliar or uncomfortable for their parents.

The truth Is, many African parents parent from a point of many fears such as the fear of failure, fear of poverty, and the fear of shame. These parents simply want their children to have stable careers, to avoid the mistakes they made, to become “somebody.” But in doing so, they often fail to ask a crucial question:

What if their child’s version of success looks different?

I remember back in secondary school, most of my classmates opted for sciences, and there were even some whose parents forced them into science classes because of the prevailing belief that those who studied arts-related courses wouldn’t get jobs. I also wanted to do science so I could study Petrochemical Engineering. In fact, my father insisted that I join the science class. He was so desperate that he wanted to buy a recharge card for me to give to my principal, and that would have caused both of us embarrassment, because Mrs. Priscilla Eze, whom I knew very well, would have come to the assembly ground and narrated how my father and I tried to bribe her with a recharge card in exchange for a place in the science class.

She stood her ground and insisted I either go to the art class or move to another school. At first, I felt bad and even cried. It was only later that I realised I was meant for the art class.

The Implication of parents forcing their children to study a particular course out of fear of unemployment is that, at the end of the day, their dreams are truncated. Among those who were pressured into science were students who could have become successful lawyers or accountants, but they ended up chasing medicine and surgery, and later settled for courses like microbiology or biochemistry instead.

But the current generation of African parents is beginning to think differently. Parents are now encouraging their children to play football, especially after the mouth-watering transfer deals of exceptional football players. Remember when the Brazilian superstar, Neymar, was transferred from Barcelona to PSG for a record-breaking fee? During that period, social media was agog with reports of parents planning to train their children in football academies—by fire, by force! Every parent’s dream now is to raise a football child, just like Kylian Mbappé’s father did. They call it “Project Mbappé.” Even my father, who stopped me from playing football, is now a staunch Chelsea fan like me. I am sure he is dreaming of watching one of his sons play for one of the big teams in Europe one day, or even in Saudi Arabian clubs, because that is where the money is now.

The bottom line Is that parents shouldn’t be dogmatic in finding career paths for their children. Like I usually advise my married friends: they shouldn’t force their children to choose particular career paths. Rather, they should monitor them keenly and see what they are good at, or what they are passionate about, as long as the passion is not against the dictates of their religion or moral codes.

If parents don’t insist that their children must go to school solely to get white-collar jobs, I think the weight of unemployment on the government would reduce. Imagine having a country where citizens are self-employed.

As a society, we must learn to redefine success through the eyes of our children, and not merely through the lens of our own fears or regrets. Every child deserves the freedom to dream and the support to chase that dream. We must begin to raise children with open minds, not closed expectations. A fulfilled child is a successful child, no matter the path they choose.

Let us guide them, not gag them. Let us mentor them, not muffle them. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be amazed at what they become when we allow them to be who they were truly meant to be. (Daily Trust)