I’M STILL FIGHTING A CHILD THAT DOESN’T EXIST: WHY NIGERIAN COMPARISON IS THE ULTIMATE TRAP.

COMPARISON AS THE ULTIMATE TRAP

If you grew up in a Nigerian home, there’s a ninety-nine per cent chance you didn’t just grow up with siblings, you grew up with a Ghost Twin. You know that one Mummy Chidinma’s son, that cousin who has 12 heads, or the random girl in your class who doesn't have two heads but somehow gets a hundred per cent in Maths.

Comparison wasn't just a feeling in our homes; it was a standard-issue parenting tool and the worst part? It usually happened while you were just minding your business, and doing your own thing the way you know how to do it best.

When advice is actually comparison

In a typical Nigerian home, comparison is the ultimate trap. Your parents don't wake up and say, I want to make you feel like a failure today, no, they wrap it in concern and motivation.

They genuinely believe that pointing at Uche’s success will magically activate a be better switch in your brain. They don't realize that the second they bring another person into the chat, the conversation stops being about your growth and starts being about your inadequacy. It’s no longer, how can you improve? It’s now why aren't you Uche?

Correction is a map, Comparison is just pepper

Let’s be clear, correction is useful. If I mess up, tell me I messed up, give me the map to fix it because that’s growth.

But comparison? That’s just adding unprovoked pepper to a fresh wound. Once the, see your mate or the, if Emeka was here he would have done this better, line drops, the lesson is lost. Instead of learning how to do better, you start learning how to doubt yourself. You start shrinking in rooms because you’re busy wondering if there’s a better version of you currently living in your house or the house next door.

Children who were constantly compared grow into adults who struggle to see their own wins. You get a promotion? nice, but your age mate just bought a house in Lekki. You finish a project? cool, but someone on LinkedIn did it faster. Your inner voice has been trained to look sideways before looking inward.

Praise begins to feel like a temporary mistake and achievements never feel complete because the Ghost twin is still outperforming you in your head.

Home should be a safe space, not a performance stage

Home is supposed to be the one place where you can fail, regroup and look like a mess without fear of being replaced by a neighbor’s child.

When comparison becomes the household language, it creates a quiet insecurity, you start associating love and approval with performance. You learn very early that being you isn't quite enough and being better than them is the goal. You stop growing at your own pace and start performing for a standing ovation that never quite feels loud enough.

What we actually needed to hear

Imagine how different our lives would be if we just heard, this isn’t good enough yet, but I know you can do better, Full stop! Not, if Uzo was here, he would have done it better.

The difference between the two is that one corrects the skill while the other bruises the dignity.

Ending the Cycle

Healing starts when we call it what it is; Choosing to correct without comparing, especially when we start our own families, is how we break the chain.

Nothing kills a person's light faster than being reminded that even in the place meant to protect them, they are standing in someone else’s shadow. It's time to let the Ghost twin go. You're doing great, and no, you don't need twelve heads to prove it.