Thoughts on Age

I had heard anecdotally of the age-based hierarchy in Africa, but seeing it first-hand is still somehow fascinating and mysterious. When I was about 11 years old, I babysat my cousin, who was about three at the time. When I told her to pick up her toys or to chew with her mouth closed, she began to pout, and shouted, “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mom!”

That would never happen here. Or rather, if it did, an authority figure would promptly “tapper” (swat) the child in question. In Cameroon, a child’s “authority figures” are basically any family members who are superior in age.

This was clearly illustrated last night. We were (again) all in the living room watching the World Cup (Chile versus Spain) when Brice (the 19-year-old brother) told Audrey (the 13-year-old sister) to go to the store to buy him some cookies. I expected a questioning of authority, a complaint, at the very least a rolling of eyes, but Audrey’s only reaction was to stand up and walk to her room to put on her shoes.

I accompanied her to the store, where she purchased the aforementioned cookies and I bought airtime (credit for my pay-as-you-go phone). By the time we returned to the house, I thought I had figured out the siblings’ system: Surely Audrey was willing to buy Brice’s cookies because in return, he would share. But she handed over the package and sat back down on the couch without any exchange of words or edibles.

And that’s more or less how the system works. It’s great for the parents, who can command any of their children to bring their bathwater or go buy bread for breakfast. Meanwhile, the youngest sibling (seven-year-old Luther) has no one to order around but his 18-month old nephews, and they aren’t likely to listen anyway.