The 3-Minute Phone Call That Costs Me ₦800 Every Month

My mother calls me every single night. Not to check on me. Not to ask about her granddaughter. Just to confirm that I have not been kidnapped, arrested, or joined a cult. The call lasts exactly three minutes. I timed it.

"Nwanne, you are there?" Yes ma. "You ate?" Yes ma. "Okay. Goodnight." Then she hangs up. That is the whole conversation. But if I miss one night, by 9am the next morning my uncle in Aba is calling me asking why I am trying to kill my mother with hypertension.

The thing about Nigerian parents is that they have mastered the art of loving you through interrogation. My father, before he passed, would send me a text every Sunday that just said "How are you?" No punctuation. No follow-up. Just that. And if I replied "Fine," he would call my wife to confirm.

I pastor young people who think their parents are controlling. I tell them, look at it this way, your mother is not monitoring you. She is managing her own fear. The world has shown her too many things. So she calls. Three minutes. Every night. And I pick up every time because one day the phone will not ring anymore.

But my sister in Canada, her own mother calls her at 3am her time and she still picks up. So maybe we are all just scared children pretending to be adults.