When I was a kid, my mother had a saying for every situation. Lost your pencil? “Only the goat forgets where it grazed.” Complaining about a strict teacher? “Don’t bark at the broom when it sweeps.” Pestering her for snacks before dinner? “The impatient mouth eats its tongue.” Half the time, I didn’t know what these proverbs meant, but I repeated them with the seriousness of a child trying on adulthood. My parents’ words—and the stories behind them—were gospel, everyday parables that still frame how I see the world.

But the thing about family stories is they never arrive fully formed. They’re passed around—polished, exaggerated, revised—like a shared dish at a crowded table. My family lore, rooted in Lagos, then Brooklyn, is a mix of hardship, humor, and sky-high expectations. Those stories have not only shaped my worldview but also given me a unique lens on relationships and love. Let me share a few—and the surprising truths I’ve found hiding in the corners of them.

Of Matchmakers and Marketplaces

To hear my mother tell it, she and my father fell in love like a well-done piece of jollof rice—slowly, with all the right ingredients. The true version, as supplied by my aunt during a power outage one muggy evening in Lagos, is a bit spicier. My mom had no intention of marrying my dad initially. He was too quiet, she said, and his shirts were bad knockoffs of 1970s Nollywood trends (think oversized collars and too much polyester). It took two church aunties and a “chance” meeting at the market (planned in secret, of course) to set them on the path to romance.

Their love story taught me three things:

  1. "What Will Be Needs a Push." (Another proverb courtesy of Mom.) Sometimes love doesn’t arrive in a picture-perfect package. Recognizing and trusting potential takes time—and yes, a little meddling from well-meaning aunties.

  2. Presentation Matters—In Love and In Life. My dad eventually started dressing better, and my mom softened her initial resistance. They adapted for each other in small but meaningful ways. Love may be rooted in deeper connections, but let's admit it: appearances nudge the door open.

  3. Community is Your Wingman. Whether it’s church aunties, ride-or-die friends, or those nosy coworkers, relationships thrive with a strong support system.

The Tale of the Missing Goat

Family legend has it that my great-grandfather once lost his most prized goat just days before a festival. This goat was, by all accounts, majestic. Glossy coat, graceful gait—the Cristiano Ronaldo of goats, if you will. My great-grandfather searched high and low, interrogating every child in the village and half the adults. Days later, the goat wandered back on its own, smugly chewing on banana leaves.

Here’s the twist: The goat hadn’t been stolen, as he suspected. It simply needed some space. It’s a funny story, sure, but it pops into my head whenever I’m tempted to fixate on why someone isn’t texting back or why a partner seems distant.

The lesson? Desperation drives distance. Love, like goats, sometimes needs breathing room. If someone wants to be in your life, they’ll find their way back—over time and without being chased.

Grandma’s "Objection to Romance" Speech

My grandmother, formidable and suspicious of frivolity, wasn’t big on grand romance. She once gave a wedding toast summarizing her views: “Love is fleeting. Food lasts longer.” What she really meant (because she followed it up with a thesaurus-worthy speech) was that the logistics of partnership—shared values, daily respect, working through hard times—matter far more than butterflies and boom boxes serenading you from the street.

She believed love was less about Hollywood (or Nollywood) dramatics and more about durability. Like preparing those dishes that take hours over a stove, strong partnerships require patience, technique, and a willingness to stay in the kitchen even when the heat gets overwhelming.

Was she a romantic? No. Was she right? Absolutely.

A Riot at Aso Ebi Fittings

Once, at the fitting for my cousin’s wedding, a small civil war broke out over fabric choices for the bridal party. It started with a petty argument—lace vs. Ankara print—and escalated to full-on finger-pointing. Nothing brings out family drama quite like weddings. Later that night, as my overwhelmed cousin cried about her divided bridesmaids, my uncle dropped one of his calm, Obi-Wan Kenobi-esque wisdom hits: “Marriage is your fabric. But the thread that holds it together? That’s bigger than the seams anyone else sees.”

Here’s my takeaway (besides an appreciation for metaphor): Relationships aren’t about performing perfection for others. The unseen, everyday acts of kindness, forgiveness, and collaboration are the equivalent of that invisible thread. Forget what it looks like to others—make sure your relationship makes sense from the inside.

Passing Down and Passing On

What’s interesting about these family stories is how much they've stayed with me, even as I’ve come into my own. There’s something comforting about knowing people you admired, like my parents or grandparents, didn’t have it all figured out at first either. My mom’s favorite motto—"You’ll understand when you’re older"—used to infuriate me. But now, whenever I catch myself repeating her words to my younger siblings or draw lessons from a half-remembered tale of my family’s struggles, it finally clicks.

What I’ve learned is that relationships, like stories, thrive on collaboration and creativity. You never really “arrive” at understanding love or connection—it’s more an ongoing process of weaving the threads you’ve been given into a story that fits your life. Sometimes your perspective will expand through someone else’s fabric, and other times you’ll work with scraps, figuring it out as you go.

At the heart of it all? Family stories have a way of reminding us that we’re never really alone. The path might be challenging, but there’s always wisdom, humor, or at least a ridiculous goat trope to light the way.

So next time you’re questioning the state of your love life, think of my great-grandfather chasing that runaway goat, or my dad tweaking his wardrobe to impress my mom. Love is rarely perfect. It’s usually messy, awkward, and occasionally hilarious. But if you’re lucky, it’s also accompanied by people willing to tell you ridiculous stories just to help you make sense of it all.