I first shared this piece on Medium, but its message still matters today. I’ve polished it a bit and decided to share it here on Mirror for a new audience. I hope it speaks to you as much as it did to my original readers.

Have we become so ashamed of our heritage that speaking our native language now feels like a crime?

Today, I remembered a disturbing experience my uncle once shared with me.

He visited a family friend, and their child suddenly burst into tears simply because he spoke Yoruba to him. The child cried out, “Don’t speak Yoruba to me! My mummy will beat me if I speak Yoruba!” This, despite the fact that both parents are Yoruba. My uncle was stunned—confused, even—and felt compelled to apologise to the child for speaking his own language.

This wasn’t just a shocking moment; it revealed something deeper and more painful.

It raises an urgent question: Have we become so ashamed of our heritage that speaking our native language now feels like a crime?

To the parents who may not get everything right, but still insist their children speak English exclusively—please, let’s do better. If we’re going to insist on English, let’s at least teach it properly.

For example, when a child says, “Mummy, I want to go and piss,”—yes, “piss” means urine, but it’s crude and inappropriate in many settings. Let’s teach our children to speak in a way that is both clear and respectable.

Speaking well doesn’t have to be a herculean task.

Using big words isn’t what makes one intelligent or a good communicator. And when someone speaks to us in broken English or poor grammar, let’s not mirror it.

Them: Did you naw go there?

You: I dinnur go.

Let’s not communicate this way. Instead, respond with grace and clarity. We can model better without mocking or mimicking.

The picture I’ve shared shows me proudly representing my culture—with beauty, elegance, and confidence.

We don’t have to wear suits or palazzo pants to be seen as worthy or classy.

"Omo Yorùbá tó réwà ni mí” – I am a beautiful Yoruba lady.