The idea for this article came to me during one of our Saturday breakfasts, when I was sitting with some of my old schoolmates at an Indian restaurant. As often happens among friends who have known one another for years, an ordinary breakfast slowly became a conversation about life, children, parenting and the generation growing up before our eyes.
Mr. Nawaz said something that remained with me: “Do not panic or disturb yourself too much about your sons and daughters. This generation is challenging.” Mr. Kamel added a similar thought. From there, our conversation travelled into the strange territory between our generation and theirs, between the world in which we grew up and the world our children are inheriting.
Perhaps every generation complains about the generation that follows it. Yet something genuinely different is happening today. Our children are growing up surrounded by technology, information, social media, artificial intelligence, changing lifestyles and endless choices.
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The world enters their bedrooms through a small screen. They know things at eighteen that we might not have known at thirty, yet knowing more does not necessarily mean experiencing more. Information can be downloaded in seconds, but maturity cannot. Wisdom still requires time, responsibility, mistakes, disappointment and experience.
This brings me to an uncomfortable question. Are we loving our children too comfortably?
Make your home a little uncomfortable for your sons and daughters so that one day they will have the courage to leave it and find their own way. I do not mean that parents should become harsh, uncaring or emotionally distant. Home should always remain a place of love. But love and comfort are not the same thing. Sometimes excessive comfort quietly becomes dependency, and dependency can slowly steal initiative, courage and responsibility.
Look around the house. Food is ready. A separate bedroom is available. Clothes are washed. Internet is paid for. A car may be available. Monthly pocket money arrives. Electricity, water and telephone bills belong to somebody else. If a problem appears, father solves it. If something becomes difficult, mother intervenes. This is beautiful parental care, but for how long?
At some stage, children must understand that bread has a price beyond the number printed on its packaging. Someone worked for it. Someone woke up early, faced pressure, tolerated a difficult manager, travelled through traffic, sacrificed time and earned the money that placed that bread on the table. When everything arrives without effort, we may unintentionally teach our children to enjoy the fruit without understanding the tree.
Let them prepare something for themselves. Let them work during holidays. Let them manage a budget. Let them experience what happens when money finishes before the month does. Let them make appointments, solve their own problems, communicate professionally, travel responsibly and sometimes hear the word “no.”
Let them apply for jobs and experience rejection. Let them make decisions that do not always produce perfect results.
We should not be frightened by every failure our children experience. Failure is sometimes one of life’s finest teachers. A rejected application teaches persistence. A difficult colleague teaches emotional intelligence. A small salary teaches financial discipline. A missed opportunity teaches preparation. A wrong decision teaches judgment. A broken dream can even teach a person how to dream more intelligently.
Our generation was different, not necessarily better. Many of us grew up with fewer choices, less technology and perhaps less comfort. We had to wait. We had to search. We had to ask people. Sometimes we had to walk somewhere simply to obtain information that today appears on a screen within seconds. Those difficulties frustrated us, but they also trained us. Scarcity taught us value. Waiting taught us patience. Responsibility taught us adulthood.
The danger today is not technology itself. Technology is extraordinary. The danger begins when convenience enters every corner of life and removes the necessity to struggle. A young person can become highly informed yet emotionally unprepared for rejection, criticism, financial pressure or uncertainty. Life, unfortunately, does not have a “skip” button.
Parents therefore need a different kind of courage—the courage not to solve everything.
Your son does not only need your money; he needs your confidence that he can earn his own. Your daughter does not only need your protection; she needs opportunities to discover how powerful she can become without constant protection. Give them education, values, guidance and love, but also give them responsibility.
One day they must leave the harbour. A ship may be safest when anchored, but safety was never the purpose for which ships were built. The same is true of our children.
So when the right time comes, open the door with love rather than fear. Do not tell them that the world is too dangerous. Tell them that the world is difficult, fascinating, uncertain and waiting for them.





