Roots and Resilience: A Nigerian Dad’s Guide to Balancing Worlds

Balancing the Crown: Holding Onto Heritage in Corporate America

Trying to navigate corporate America as a Nigerian professional can feel like walking a tightrope between two worlds that don’t always see eye to eye. On one side, there’s this deep-rooted Nigerian spirit—tough, relentless, always about family and respect. On the other, there’s the boardroom, where "professionalism" sometimes seems to ask you to check your culture at the door. But that’s never been my style. I bring my heritage with me, using that Nigerian resilience as my fuel and a confidence that can sometimes be misread. Some might see it as arrogance, but really, it’s a self-assurance that’s simply woven into who we are.

I remember early on in my career, I’d just wrapped a meeting where I laid out a bold strategy to a room full of senior leaders. It was one of those times you could feel the energy shift. People listened, but afterward, a colleague pulled me aside and said, “You came off a bit… strong.” Now, I knew what she meant, but I also knew I hadn’t been rude or overbearing. I’d just been direct, sure of myself, and unapologetic about my vision. That’s part of how I was raised—to speak up, to walk with purpose, to own my space.

But I realized in that moment that what I see as confidence, others might see as overstepping. My culture values assertiveness and clarity, a way of carrying oneself that says, “I belong here.” Sometimes, in corporate spaces, that self-assurance isn’t always welcome. So I had a choice: dial it down or lean in and make sure people saw past their assumptions. I chose the latter. I adjusted how I delivered my ideas, staying true to my roots while adapting to the room’s rhythm. I’ve learned to keep that confidence while fine-tuning it for the audience, and in doing so, I’ve managed to find my lane—staying true to myself while earning respect in spaces that, more often than not, don’t look like me.

Fatherhood Through a Nigerian Lens: Passing Down the Legacy

Being a dad? Whole different ballgame. My Nigerian heritage is like a gift I want to hand down, but it comes with a side of strategy. Teaching myself and my kids our language, customs, and history isn’t just about preserving tradition—it’s about giving them a sense of identity in a place where that identity can sometimes feel out of place. Here in America, people often don’t fully understand what it means to be Nigerian. Sometimes even African Americans don’t relate to the nuances of our culture, while White Americans and others might not grasp the weight of our traditions, the pride we carry, or the reasons behind our resilience. So there are moments when we feel set apart, like we’re carrying something that others can’t quite touch or understand. But rather than letting that feeling isolate us, I see it as a chance to build something strong within my kids.

I want them to grow up with a sense of belonging that’s rooted in who they are—not just what they see around them. Nigerian culture has this deep respect for family, for history, for honoring those who came before us. I want my kids to feel that weight and see it as a strength, not a burden. So, it’s a balancing act, helping them stay connected to their roots while preparing them for an America that may not always understand those roots. My goal is to raise them with pride and strength, and to show them how compassion fits into it all, so they’re ready to respect other people’s stories, too, while knowing their own.

Fatherhood, Fundraising, and Finding Balance

Fatherhood and corporate life? You’d be surprised at how much they overlap. Patience, adaptability, resilience—they’re as crucial in a conference room as they are in a playroom. These days, though, my life looks a little different. I used to be in corporate, but now I’m a full-time educator, and when I’m not in the classroom, I’m the unofficial fundraiser-in-chief for Daddy Mode (seriously, I didn’t know I was signing up for two full-time jobs). But the lessons still apply.

At home with my kids, I have to be flexible, listening closely to what they need, helping them sort through their emotions, and finding ways to help them grow. The goal isn’t to mold them into something but to give them the tools to stand on their own—to think critically, to be resilient, and to know they’re supported. And I find that’s the same approach I take with my students. Sometimes they need guidance, sometimes they need space, and sometimes they need someone who can step back and just let them try.

Corporate taught me the value of listening more than I talk, but now, in my role as a father and an educator, I’m seeing it come to life in a deeper way. I want my kids to know who they are, to feel proud of their roots, and to have the confidence to make their own mark in the world. And I hope my students walk away with that same grit and heart, ready to take on whatever’s ahead of them. In the end, whether it’s in a playroom, a classroom, or on the set of Daddy Mode, the mission is the same: to build up the next generation and help them believe they belong wherever they choose to go.

Advice for Fathers and Professionals: Own Your Balance

If you’re juggling these worlds, my advice? Own it, every part of it. There’s no need to play small or feel like you have to blend in. Let your heritage show—it’s a source of strength. Pass your culture, your language, your traditions to your kids and, where you can, to your colleagues. People respect authenticity, and trust me, you’ll gain more by being yourself than by watering down who you are. Balance comes with time, with persistence, and with the right support. Seek out community, find mentors who get where you’re coming from, and remember that the values you brought from home aren’t just relevant—they’re necessary, no matter where you go.