Respect in African Culture vs. What Respect Should Really Be

“Respect your elders.”

If you grew up in an African household, you probably heard those words more times than you can count.

And if you are now raising children, particularly in the UK or another Western country, you may find yourself saying the same thing.

Because respect matters.

It matters how our children speak to people.
It matters how they behave.
It matters that they understand that they are not the centre of the universe.
It matters that they learn to treat people with dignity.

But somewhere along the way, I think we need to have an uncomfortable conversation.

Are we teaching our children respect, or are we teaching them passive submission and calling it respect?

Because they are not the same thing.

In many African homes, respect looks like passive submission

Respect can sometimes mean:

“Do what I said.”

“Don’t question me.”

“Don’t talk back.”

“I am your parent, so you don’t need to understand why.”

“Because I said so.”

“Children should be seen and not heard.”

And heaven help the child who asks, “But why?”

Suddenly, that question isn’t curiosity.

It’s backchat.

It’s disrespect.

It’s attitude.

It’s ‘Who do you think you are?’

I understand where this comes from.

Many of us were raised in cultures where age and authority carried enormous weight. You greeted elders in a particular way. You didn’t interrupt adults. You didn’t challenge your parents publicly. You certainly didn’t speak to an adult the way many children today might speak to their parents.

There was an important value underneath all of this:

Honour the people who came before you.

And I don’t think we should throw that value away.

But perhaps we need to examine how we are expressing it.

Because there is a difference between teaching a child:

“You can disagree with me, but you must speak respectfully.”

and teaching:

“You don’t get to disagree with me.”

Those two messages create very different adults.

Respect is not fear

A child who immediately becomes silent when an adult enters the room may look incredibly well-behaved.

But silence isn’t necessarily respect.

They may simply be afraid.

A teenager who never challenges their parent’s opinion may look obedient.

But perhaps they have simply learned that challenging you isn’t worth the consequences.

And a child who says “yes” to everything you say may appear incredibly respectful.

But what happens when they become an adult and need to make difficult decisions for themselves?

What happens when someone in authority asks them to do something they know is wrong?

What happens when they enter a workplace and have a manager who treats them unfairly?

What happens when they are in a relationship where someone tries to control them?

If we teach children that respect means never questioning authority, we may unintentionally make it harder for them to recognise the difference between healthy authority and unhealthy control.

So what should respect actually look like?

I think genuine respect has to go both ways.

It doesn’t mean that parents and children have the same authority.

They don’t.

We are still the parents.

We still set boundaries.
We still make decisions.
We still say no.
We still hold our children accountable.

But being the parent doesn’t mean we have to stop listening.

A teenager can say:

“Mum, I don’t agree with you.”

And you can respond:

“That’s okay. Tell me why.”

A child can question a decision without being labelled disrespectful.

A teenager can express frustration without being punished simply for having an emotion.

And a young person can disagree with you while still understanding that they need to speak appropriately.

That, to me, is respect.

Not “You will do what I say because I am older.”

But:

“I will treat you with dignity, and I expect you to treat me with dignity too.”

Respect doesn’t mean children never challenge us

This is probably one of the hardest things for many of us to accept.

Our children are going to challenge us.

Especially our teenagers.

They are developing opinions. They are becoming more independent. They are discovering who they are.

Sometimes they will be wrong.

Sometimes they will be absolutely convinced they are right when they are spectacularly wrong.

And sometimes, annoyingly, they will actually have a point.

Our job isn’t to make sure they never question us.

Our job is to teach them how to question respectfully.

There is a huge difference between:

“You’re so stupid. That makes no sense.”

and:

“I don’t understand why you see it that way. Can I explain how I see it?”

Both disagree.

Only one demonstrates respect.

That is a skill worth teaching.

And parents need to model it too

This is where it gets interesting.

We cannot demand respectful communication from our children while speaking to them in ways we would never accept from another adult.

We cannot say:

“Don’t shout at me!”

while shouting at them.

We cannot say:

“Listen when I’m talking.”

while constantly dismissing what they are saying.

We cannot tell them:

“Respect my feelings.”

while telling them:

“There’s nothing to be upset about.”

Our children learn respect partly through experiencing it.

They watch how we speak to them.

How we speak about other people.

How we treat people who disagree with us.

How we apologise.

How we handle being wrong.

How we respond when someone says, “No.”

And perhaps one of the most powerful lessons we can teach our children is that respect does not disappear simply because you have more power.

We don’t have to choose between African values and modern parenting

This is particularly important for African parents raising children in the UK.

Sometimes we feel as though we have to choose.

Either we hold on to the values we were raised with, or we become “too Western.”

I don’t think it has to be either/or.

We can teach our children to greet elders.

We can teach them to appreciate age and experience.

We can teach them to be courteous.

We can teach them that certain behaviours are unacceptable.

We can teach them responsibility and accountability.

We can teach them that family matters.

And we can also teach them that their voice matters.

Those things can coexist.

Perhaps what needs to change isn’t the value of respect.

Perhaps it is our definition of it.

The question I keep coming back to

When my child is respectful to me, what exactly am I looking for?

Do I want them to obey me immediately?

Do I want them to never question me?

Do I want them to be quiet?

Do I want them to fear disappointing me?

Or do I want to raise a young person who knows how to treat people with dignity, communicate appropriately, listen to others, stand up for themselves and still honour the people around them?

Because those are two very different goals.

And if I’m honest, I’d rather raise the second.

I don’t want my children to respect me simply because I’m their mother.

I want them to understand why respect matters.

I want them to know that respect isn’t something we give only to people older than us, richer than us, more powerful than us or more important than us.

Respect is about recognising the humanity and dignity of another person.

And that means it has to work both ways.

Our children deserve respect too.

Not adult-level authority.

Not unlimited freedom.

Not the absence of boundaries.

But respect.

Because perhaps the greatest thing we can teach our children is not:

“Respect your elders.”

But:

“Respect people. And expect to be respected too.”