No One Wants to Be a Villager Anymore

Everybody wants the benefits of being in the village, but no one wants to put in the work to maintain it. 

When I used to imagine adulthood, a lot of it involved being supported by friends and family. I come from a world where the mothers help each other out, fathers check in on each other regularly, and the children benefit from this system in motion. On the drive home from doing errands, a regular conversation with my mom would usually go like this: 

I would ask, “Are we going home?”

“No, your aunty said to come and pick up some food,” my mom would reply.  

It’s become completely normal to see my mother buy a bulk box of tomatoes, drop some off for my grandma and some for my aunts. Just the other day, I asked her why she always did that. Her answer was simple, “They take care of us, so we take care of them.” 

Her response was simple, yet utterly complex. It made me take a step back and look at all the times I’ve received support from my loved ones. It’s not just food — it’s showing up to graduations and birthday parties. It’s offering a ride, picking up some groceries, or simply conducting regular check-ins just to see how everyone’s doing. 

We fail to realize that maintaining this kind of reciprocal system requires something difficult: letting go of hyper-independence. Being able to rely on someone while simultaneously being relied on demands a level of trust I don’t see much anymore. The ability to put aside our ego, lower our guard and ask for help is often treated as a weakness rather than a strength.  

We live in a society that often influences us to romanticize doing it all alone. Functioning when you are burnt out is a flex, and total self-reliance can be seen as the ultimate goal. In a pro-hustle world, this reliance can cause both physical and mental strain. Independence is valuable, but if you don’t know when to reach out, you may find yourself in a deeper hole than you were when you started. 

Here’s the reality: a village cannot function when everyone is trying to be entirely self-sufficient. Like most people, I want to be financially independent, get my own place, and live comfortably. But when you take a good look at your life right now, don’t the people in it make it better?  

There is a certain joy in showing up for someone else. You feel and become a better person when you know someone you care about is better off because you chose to embrace your role as a villager. It may take a village to raise a child, but when that child becomes an adult, they become a villager who cares for others. In turn, the village continues to sustain them. 

For young adults, the village may not be the traditional idea of mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles. We have to adapt our communities to fit into our own lives. Sharing groceries, splitting rides, and checking in are simple actions, but this intentional reciprocity can be unintentionally overlooked. As a 20-year-old, I know how easy it can be to fall into self-reliance, but reciprocal care is what keeps us afloat.

We live in a time where we need each other more than ever. No matter how many hours, days, or years we hustle, life will continue to bear weight on our shoulders. Maintaining a village creates a reason to continue, and a safeguard we always know is there.  

So as your fellow villager, I’d love some of the chocolate chip cookies you baked. And I’ll make a note to myself to bring over a bowl of pasta next time I make a pot.

• community
• connection
• giving
• reflection
• village