Lastborn Assemble!

Why Lastborn Life is Not What You Think.

As a quintessential firstborn, I’m the classic guinea pig, the first child, first daughter, and first grandchild on both sides. When I call myself GOAT, don’t rush to think about the "greatest of all time", who dash me, I mean the "scapegoat".

My parents learned how to be parents with me. My grandmothers joined the league of grandmas because I was born (honestly, they were more relieved than happy). The grandfather I met thought I'd be a boy and gave me one of my favourite names, Adebola.

My uncles pretend to be my brothers, protecting me and also wondering why I'm not married yet. As for my aunties, let's just say, I have them.

By the time our lastborn was born, everyone had perfected their roles.

But after spending time with a few lastborns, I realised their lives are a parallel version of mine. So, I’m trading my firstborn's boots for their slippers and giving you a peek into their world.

The Glorified Errand Child

Being the lastborn comes with the permanent employment of you being the family's official errand boy. Sometimes it feels like everyone is just waiting for you to wake so that they can send you.

The most annoying part is that they don't even ask nicely. You could be in your room, and a sibling will just shout your name from the other side of the house as if you’re Alexa with legs. You walk over, only to hear, “Hand me that remote,” even though it’s right beside them. If you dare complain, you’ll get hit with that classic: “When we were your age, we had already washed the whole compound.” Oshey dry cleaner, but what does that have to do with me carrying the remote?

Slim-Fitted Food (And Scraps for Protein)

It's only normal that after all the meaningless errands you ran, you should be rewarded with plenty food. On top of this food matter is where you will see that Nigerian politicians are still learning work.

You will always eat last, but the most painful part is that you can be the one who ran all the errands and still be served like a guest who just arrived. God help you if your older siblings get to your food first; your portion will not be equal, and you can say goodbye to any hope of a fair share of protein.

The Hand-Me-Down Legacy

One of the perks of being the lastborn is that you never get to buy clothes.

Your wardrobe is a historical artefact, with 90% of your clothes dating back at least a decade before you were born. Oh please! Clear that thought of vintage, these clothes are relics from your siblings. That t-shirt you wear to school is from your older brother's secondary school days. The jeans you now rock, people recognise them from your sister's old Facebook photos. By the time they reach you, they're not clothes anymore; they're souvenirs.

The Constant Curse of "Smallie"

As a firstborn, I get punished for my siblings’ wrongdoing and hear, “You should know better,” which can be unfair, but for the lastborns, it’s a different story.

They can offer a brilliant opinion in a family conversation, only for everyone to just chuckle and say, “Smallie sef dey talk.” They are constantly hearing things like “You’re too little to…” or “Go and grow up.” They live with this curse of not being taken seriously, fighting just to have their voices heard.

Living in a Sibling's Shadow

While firstborns were the guinea pigs with no standard to live up to, lastborns are in a constant state of comparison.

Your achievements are stale news because an older sibling has already done it. So you get an 89 on a test? That’s nice, but your sister got a 98, so instead of applause, you hear, “You can do better.” You're always Tunde’s little brother and are expected to be Tunde 2.0. It’s exhausting living up to an expectation that’s not even yours.

Same Struggle, Different Font

Seeing this made me kind of get it. Firstborns and lastborns are basically the same, although living in different fonts.

Firstborns are out there hacking through the jungle with cutlasses, clearing paths nobody has walked before; pressure is their middle name. Meanwhile, lastborns are standing at the other end of the road like, “Ehn, which path am I supposed to even follow?” So while they’re struggling to make the way, we’re struggling to find the way.

At the end of the day, both sides are fighting battles nobody else really understands. And that’s why firstborns and lastborns combo always work and vibe. We may not have the same wahala, but we understand the struggle.

My Respect to the Lastborns

Honestly, I respect lastborns now. You take all that 'Go and grow up' slander and somehow turn it into charm, comedy, and fierce determination. No wonder so many lastborns end up as entertainers. Every “small pikin” insult was free rehearsals.

So, lastborns, here are your flowers. And firstborns, maybe we should cut them some slack; they're fighting their own battles, too.

And to all the middleborns... well, God is your strength! 😂

What's a misconception about lastborns you're tired of hearing? Let me know in the comments!