“My grandfather rode a camel.
My father rode a camel.
I drive a Mercedes.
My son drives a Land Rover.
My grandson will drive a Land Rover.
But my great grandson will ride a camel.”
This reflection is attributed to the founder of Dubai, Sheikh Rashid bin Saeed Al Maktoum. When asked why, his response was simple but unsettling. Tough times create strong men. Strong men create easy times. Easy times create weak men. Weak men create tough times.
That cycle feels uncomfortably familiar. Recently, three conversations brought the quote sharply to the fore. A friend asked if I could help secure a job placement for his son. Earlier that same week, two other people made similar requests for their children. Different people. Same expectation.
It took me back to how those same parents once hustled for their children’s admissions. Forms were bought, calls were made, favours were pulled. The parents did the running.
For my generation, it was different. We handled these things ourselves. We hit the streets, asked questions, queued up, followed leads, and figured it out while our parents went about their daily businesses. We learned early how to deal with rejection, uncertainty, and delays.
Today, the reverse is the order of the day. Parents now negotiate life on behalf of their children, from admissions to employment, while the children wait comfortably on the sidelines. In that well intentioned protection, something essential is quietly lost.
In many Nigerian homes today, children are driven to school. Laundry is handled by washing machines and house helps. Cooking, cleaning, and market runs are outsourced. The Aboki opens the gate, switches on the generator, and manages the power. While everything works around them, the children sit comfortably with laptops, smartphones, gaming consoles, and unlimited internet.
Life is smooth. Almost too smooth. As parents, we now do almost everything for our wards. We remove obstacles before they appear. We soften every edge. We rush in at the slightest discomfort. In doing so, we deny our children the chance to think deeply, struggle, and face challenges that build character.
The outcome is becoming obvious. Cognition, the ability to think, reason, learn, and adapt, appears weaker than in earlier generations. Cognition is shaped by parenting, education, environment, nutrition, and lived experience. Yet technology and comfort have produced what many proudly call soft life. Convenience has replaced curiosity. Ease has displaced resilience.
We are now watching the cycle play out. Many young people retreat at the first sign of discomfort. Words hurt their feelings, so they seek safe spaces. Systems do not immediately favour them, so they expect handouts; they feel entitled. The hunger to earn, endure, and build is fading.
But history does not negotiate with comfort. The camels may not be literal, but the warning is clear. Societies that outsource resilience eventually relearn hardship, often the hard way.
This is more than social commentary. It is a call to action for parents. Comfort is not the enemy, but overprotection is. We must allow our children to think, fail, try again, and earn their wins. We must deliberately build cognition, resilience, and responsibility, even when it feels uncomfortable.
Segun McMedal is a strategic public relations leader, PR visionary, and nation builder. He serves on the Governing Council of the Nigerian Institute of Public Relations and previously chaired the Lagos State Chapter.
This is indeed our sad reality.Everyrhing is done for our children.In protecting them,we have created a very dependent children.’Comfort is now discomforting and even suffocating.
We cry out but we created the situation in the first place.Easy life, feeling of entitlements and flagrant disobedience reigns in our homes.
But what can we do about this troubling situation?
Can we reverse it,to what extent?