If you grew up in a typical Nigerian home, you’d understand that our parents’ relationship with technology is a different kind of love story more like a love hate saga. My mum, in particular, is the main character in this epic drama. She was born in the early 60s, back when letters were handwritten and posted at the post office, and the closest thing to a mobile phone was a town crier’s bell, i wonder how they Sha survived that kind of life.
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A few years ago, I decided to surprise her with a brand new smartphone for her birthday. She had been using a small torchlight phone for years, and anytime she saw me swipe effortlessly on my own phone, she would say, “Ah ah, these children of nowadays, you people are magicians!”,what else can I do if not smile at ignorance.
When she unboxed her gift, her eyes sparkled like a child receiving sweets. But that joy lasted only until she tried to turn it on. She pressed and pressed the power button with all her might, even used two fingers at a point, as if the phone needed extra energy to wake up. Eventually, I had to intervene before she thought it was a faulty device.
Then came the real challenge of learning to use WhatsApp. After several patient tutorials, she finally learned how to open it. But instead of typing her messages, she would always send me voice notes filled with background noise ,goats bleating, pots clanging, and her shouting over everything, “Can you hear me? Ehn? Talk now!” For God's sake it's a voice note not a call.Sometimes, she would forget to end the recording and we’d receive a 10 minute audio of her greeting neighbours or scolding my younger cousins.
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The day she discovered emojis was another episode. She sent me a message filled with nothing but crying and laughing faces and eggplants. I called her immediately, and she said, “I just liked those drawings, all of them fine my pikin” Within me I was like "shey I'd have left this woman with her touchlight phone,now I had to explain to her that not all emojis meant what they looked like.
And let’s not forget the TV remote. If I had a dollar for every time she called me to say, “The TV is not talking again,” I would be a millionaire. She would press random buttons until the TV started showing a “No Signal” screen. Sometimes, she would even hold the remote like a walkie talkie, pointing it anywhere but the TV.
One of the most unforgettable moments was when I bought her a new gas cooker with automatic ignition. She was so used to lighting matches that she almost set her wrapper on fire trying to put it on. I ran into the kitchen just in time to save her from turning the house into a barbecue spot.
Through it all, we’ve had so many hearty laughs. Each day with her is a new episode of “Who Wants to be a Tech Mum?” Even though she might never fully master these gadgets, her willingness to learn and her hilarious mishaps have become one of the most cherished parts of our family life.
Trust me, when your Nigerian mum and modern technology clash, the comedy that unfolds is pure gold,you don't want to miss.