She: Dad…

Me: Yeah?

She: I want an axolotl.

Me: A what? 

She: An axolotl. Ak.suh.lo.tl

Me: What is that?

She stuck YouTube in my face.

Me: That is some ugly-ass salamander!

She hit me on the arm and corrected me. 

She: It is not a salamander. It is an axolotl. It is cute and we can get it from Mexico. 

Me: As in Mexico Mexico? Jalisco, Sinaloa and Los Zetas’ Mexico? 

The sarcasm was lost on her. But not the axolotl. It is her new obsession. 

My daughter is not Kathleen, Nicole or Beverly. Neither is she from Boise, Idaho. She is Ayinke and Oluwatomi and from the backwaters of Awori land. She likes pap, amala and sisi pelebe.  

And she wants an axolotl. 

Not a chihuahua, or a bunny, or a hamster. 

An axolotl. 

From Mehico. 

I’m failing as a father.

One of my homies in diaspora always says, ‘You people in Naija are raising first-world kids in third-world economies’.

I understand what he means but dismiss it. Naija kids are not as ‘spoilt’ or entitled as abroad pikin. He sniggers at me and tells me to keep fooling myself.

We are indeed fooling ourselves.

My daughters know a lot about animals and the natural world. Kinkajou. Cassowary. Dik-dik. Great tit. Sir David Attenborough would be proud of them.

 By the way, a Great tit is an actual animal. Look it up.  

So, I was saying, my daughters love animals. The first is often ireful at the sight of unkempt animals. The sight of the wandering mangy horses in Lekki ticks her off to no end. The owners should be in jail, she demands. She wants to be a veterinarian and care for animals.

My second daughter wants to be a marine biologist. To hang out with kelps, coelacanths and box jellyfish. But she confuses me. Sometimes, she is inclined towards a creative enterprise. She goofs around with cameras and draws good anime characters. She could be a ‘marine content creator’?

You people are playing with poverty!

Let me back up to my own journey. 

When I was a kid, I had grand plans for my life. I wanted to be a jet fighter pilot. Whoosh across the skies in an F-22 and blow stuff up. Dagger One, Fox One! 

On the mornings of 1 October, I’d look forward to the fighter jets from the Nigerian Air Force streaking overhead. I’d see them approaching on the TV and dash out of the house to wave at them. Three jets would fly in a vic formation, billowing green-white-green contrails.

That was what I wanted to be when I grew up. Playing ‘…o  ti lo, e don go’ as I zip undetected at Mach 3.  

But if I couldn’t be a fighter pilot, I could settle for Bruce Lee or Chuck Norris.

How I ended up in brand management and selling snake oil, I haven’t the foggiest idea. Likely people from my father’s side. 

OK, I have not done too shabby as a marketeer. However, I have not received a call from Mark Zuckerberg offering $100m sign-on bonus to join Meta’s AI team. Neither have messers Pichai, Nadella or Cook beaten a path to my door with job offers bordering on loot.  On the contrary, CMOs are slaughtered in the boardroom daily. Because, evidently, everyone can do marketing. 

My wife and I tell our girls these things. But they retort: ‘Money is not everything, mum.’

I agree with them. Money is not everything. 

It is only three-quarters of everything. 

I mean, an axolotl is not suddenly going to appear in her bedroom. It needs to get into a cool aquarium, get on a plane, and be managed for emotional stress as it travels 11,050 km to Lagos.

My wife and I nudge them towards a STEM course or a more ‘financially secure’ and market-driven career path. You know, like tech, medicine, finance, data science or corporate law. They are smart kids. They would excel in STEM disciplines. But these kids tell us about ‘following their passion’ and ‘fulfilment.’ 

I buy into the idea of fulfilment, alright. A lot of money gives fulfilment. 

Sure, every child has different interests and passions. And it is our job as parents to support them to succeed in the endeavour they choose. But I have a more important job. And that is to exorcise the marine spirit in them! 

No be under my roof and with my USD una go use study tilapia and stock fish. 

The problems with passion

(1). It is not fixed.

I’ve got nothing against passion. The problem is, passion could be fleeting. Our passions, dreams and interests aren’t fixed. They are fluid and evolve as we grow older, get wiser and gain more experience. What I was passionate about 15 years ago was not what I was passionate about 10 years ago. Even less so now. 

So, if passions change, why take the risk of committing to it from the outset? 

(2). Every interest need not be a lifelong passion.

I have a passion for movies, for travelling and travel writing and for photography. But those endeavours do not put food on the table. At least not now. They might someday. But I’m wise enough to pursue what feeds me and the family in the immediate. 

(3).  A passion doesn’t have to be a job. 

So my daughters love animals. That’s awesome. They could still be tech executives or finance gurus and still go scuba diving for rare molluscs. David Solomon, Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Goldman Sachs, spins a turntable after work hours. He is a disc jockey. No kidding. His DJ name is ‘DJ D-Sol’. Man spins Machala up in da club.  Per Wikipedia, he has 500,000 monthly listeners on his Spotify profile. His debut single (“Don’t Stop) garnered 8 million listens. 

That is the CEO of Goldman Sachs.

Word on the street is that Mark Zuckerberg likes to shoot wild boars. 

(4). Passion is seldom market-oriented.

Lastly, except you are DJ Cuppy or Paddy Adenuga, I’m guessing you’ll have to work someday. And your interest is best served with a job that can keep the rain off your head. A job with significant market relevance. 

Those pilates teachers? Broke to contortion. Those steroid-guzzling gym instructors? Running on empty. 

But have you ever seen a skint Chief Information Officer? Or a broke neurosurgeon? I won’t hold my breath for your answer. 

I know this to be true: God has given people multiple talents to excel in multiple fields. And because we have more than one talent, it stands to reason that we can succeed in more than one vocation. You could be an amazing maths teacher as well as a terrific poet. God has blessed us with many talents, such that we can pivot from one career to another. 

In the end, pursuing a passion or prioritising a market-relevant career is a personal choice. But it is my job as a parent to point out the pros and cons to my children. 

Sometimes, a well-paying job is enjoyable. Sometimes it is insufferable. But you can either opt to vent your frustrations in a UBER or in a Maserati.

So, should parents influence their children’s careers? You bet they should!

By the way, the animal in the featured image is an axolotl. 

Axolotl ko, Alakori ni.