03. Finish What's on Your Plate

Call it trauma, but as a child I was always scolded for not finishing my food.

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My mum would make me sit there through the tears until it was mostly gone. For her, the sign of a healthy child was a chubby child who ate everything on their plate, even if they didn’t serve that quantity for themselves.

The rule was simple: finish what is in front of you.

You don’t waste food. You don’t leave the table. You finish it.

It’s funny how these things stay with you.

Because lately I’ve been noticing the same pattern everywhere.

Take taxis in Lagos.

When I was growing up we had those yellow cabs. Old, rusty, no air conditioning. You would haggle with Baba over the price and then sit there feeling the breeze on Third Mainland Bridge. Sometimes the breeze was so calming it would make you sleepy, and then you would suddenly remember you were sitting in a stranger’s car and probably shouldn’t be falling asleep.

Then Uber arrived.

The prices were so good that everyone moved. Slowly the yellow cabs disappeared and we got used to the new thing.

And then the prices started climbing.

By the time we noticed, it didn’t matter anymore. We were already used to it.

The same thing has happened with social media.

At first it was exciting. Free. Endless novelty. Then the side effects came along quietly.

Doomscrolling.

Dopamine addiction.

Productivity disappearing before 9 a.m.

Now my feed looks like this:

Post by someone I follow.

Ad.

Suggested post based on something I Googled.

Another ad.

A lineup of reels.

More ads.

Instagram is a mess.

And yet we stay.

Why?

Stockholm syndrome?

Maybe.

But more likely: addiction.

Habit.

Fear of boredom.

Once we get used to something, leaving it suddenly feels… impossible.

Netflix did it.

The platforms lure you in with prices so good you barely think about it, and then one day the investors want their money back.

And they get it.

Because by then we’re already hooked.

Temu seems to be running the same play right now. Everyone loves the low prices. But investors don’t throw money into a company because they enjoy charity. At some point the market clears, the alternatives disappear, and the prices change.

I was thinking about all of this because I ran a poll recently.

I’d just seen something circulating about OpenAI and privacy, the kind of thing that spreads fast and makes you wonder; so I asked a simple question:

Are you still using ChatGPT this week, or have you moved to something else?

The results surprised me.

Seventy-three percent (73%) said they were still on ChatGPT.

Even after hearing the news.

Even though alternatives exist.

Once people get used to something, leaving suddenly feels like too much work.

Which brought me back to the dinner table.

To the rule about finishing what is in front of you.

Maybe the real skill in this new world isn’t just learning what to consume.

Maybe it’s learning when to stop.

That’s why I’ve made a rule in my house.

The kids must always consent to the amount of food they’re given. They take only what they believe they can finish.

Sometimes there are still teary eyes when someone overestimates their appetite.

But at least the plate is theirs.