Parenting In Canada: My Naija Mom Journey

Parenting in Canada is a whole adventure. Sometimes I sit and compare how I was raised back home in Nigeria with how I now raise my children here, and honestly—I marvel at the sharp differences. It’s like living in two worlds at once.

Here, I am called a woman of colour. That label alone tells you my parenting journey is not the regular one. It’s shaped not only by being an immigrant, but also by raising children who are caught between two cultures: my Naija roots and their Canadian environment.

Now let’s talk about discipline—because that’s where things get interesting. Disciplining children as a Naija mother in Canada can be frustrating, and if you don’t apply wisdom, you’ll either lose your cool or get into trouble.
I remember one Sunday in church. Three white women were talking, sharing their parenting experiences. One of them was almost in tears, narrating how her kids stressed her out. I sat there, nodding politely, but in my Naija mom mind, the solutions were rolling in like film scenes: an ear pull here, one hot pankere (cane) across the butt, and case closed. That’s the magic wand I grew up seeing.

But of course, I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way—that Canada is not Nigeria. Overbeating doesn’t fly here. What works? Communication. And not just casual talk, but learning to explain, reason, and guide. That’s a whole skill set I’ve had to pick up, especially with my six-year-old son, Keiran.

At home, I still try to discipline the Naija way, with firm warnings and the occasional look that says, better behave yourself. But once we step outside, I switch to Canadian mode: calm voice, negotiation, gentle correction. My husband though? Ha! He’s a different story. He’s Naija through and through—inside or outside, it doesn’t matter.

I’ll never forget the day we went to a friend’s house for lunch. Keiran decided that was the perfect moment to throw a full-blown tantrum. Before I could even blink, my husband’s hand landed—smack! smack!—two quick strokes on the boy’s back. I froze, half shocked, half impressed. Bold move in public! But I won’t lie—I was secretly relieved. Misbehavior had been nipped in the bud, Naija style.
Over time, I’ve found my own way to balance things. Before we step out, I crouch down to Keiran’s level and say, “We’re going out now. We leave when I say so. No whining. No tantrums. Understood?” Does it work all the time? Of course not. Parenting is not beans. But more often than not, it saves me stress and saves him from hot smacks.

Parenting in Canada is not a walk in the park. It’s a colourful mix of cultures, a daily lesson in patience, and a test of wisdom. But it’s also what makes my journey rich and unique.

— Ife O’Larry, Writes from Canada