Growing up, most of us didn’t even learn how to swim properly.
You go to the beach, you stand at the edge, small waves hit your legs and you say, “Me I don’t swim oo.”
And one day the water gets deeper.
Nobody prepared you for that part.
They just assume you’ll survive.
Same thing with sex.
Don’t talk about it.
Don’t disgrace the family.
Go and wear something longer.
That’s the “education.”
Yet we are expected to move like experts.
Navigate pressure.
Protect ourselves.
Recognise red flags.
Say no confidently without shaking.
How?
Who taught us?
I remember being told, “If you dress like that, you’ll attract trouble,” like boys had no self control and it was my responsibility to manage it.
Because last time I checked, most of us learned about sex from:
SHS biology class that somehow skipped Chapter 12.
Youth meetings that said “wait for marriage” but never explained what exactly we were waiting for.
The kelewele seller’s daughter who somehow knew more than all of us combined.
That babe wey dem dey call “bad girl.”
Crumpled apoo hidden under mattresses, with those infamous drawings we all pretended not to see.
Twitter threads at 2am because Google wasn’t giving the full story.
Google at 3am anyway.
Whispered hostel conversations.
Porn.
And then when things go wrong, suddenly it’s,
“You should have known better.”
Known better from where?
Chale.
It’s like being thrown into the deep end of a swimming pool when nobody ever showed you how to float, let alone swim.
But here’s the truth.
Being thrown into the deep end doesn’t mean you are meant to drown.
It doesn’t mean you stay there struggling.
It means you go looking for answers.
You ask questions.
You unlearn shame.
You learn how to float.
You learn how to swim.
Some of our parents did the best they could with what they knew.
Some teachers avoided the topic completely.
Some communities chose silence over honesty.
But silence doesn’t stop curiosity.
It just makes us learn in risky ways.
We are not stuck.
We can choose to educate ourselves.
We can choose to protect ourselves.
We can choose knowledge over vibes.
Reading.
Listening.
Having uncomfortable conversations.
Following platforms that actually educate instead of just entertain.
That’s how you learn to swim.
Not by pretending the water isn’t there.
Not by blaming yourself for not knowing what nobody taught you.
If the generation before us didn’t equip us fully, we don’t have to repeat that cycle.
We can equip ourselves.
One honest conversation at a time.
One blog post at a time.
One platform that actually tells the truth at a time.
Because protection begins with knowledge.
And knowledge is not something you inherit automatically.
Sometimes you have to go looking for it.
