Who Checks on the Person Everyone Calls?

At 11:47 p.m., the family WhatsApp group suddenly comes alive.

“Good evening, fam. Please, we have an emergency.”

Before the second message arrives, everyone already knows who will be tagged. The eldest daughter who always knows what to do. The brother with the most stable job. The aunty abroad. The uncle in Lagos who “knows somebody.” The cousin with a car. The friend who always picks up, even at an unreasonable hour.

In many Nigerian families, care has a name and a phone number. It belongs to the person who pays the unexpected bill, makes the difficult call, accompanies someone to the hospital, settles the family disagreement, or says, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” We call them strong. Responsible. Dependable. We praise their shoulders without asking if they hurt.

This is the human question at the heart of AXA Mansard’s Culture of Care campaign: “Who cares for the person everyone calls”?

The Person Who Always Finds a Way

Every family, friendship circle and workplace has one. Sometimes, she is the firstborn daughter who became a second mother long before she was ready. She remembers birthdays, school fees, hospital appointments, and the details everyone else forgets.

Sometimes, he is the brother whose first good job quietly turned him into the family’s emergency fund and dependable source. His salary has not grown significantly, but the number of people depending on it has.

Other times, it is the mom who serves everyone’s food before sitting down to eat. The father who never admits that he is worried. The friend who listens to everyone’s problems but rarely talks about her own. The colleague who carries the team whenever someone falls behind. These people are often so good at caring that we stop seeing the effort involved.

We see the transfer alert, but not the personal plan they postponed. We see the paid bills, but not the hours spent calling doctors, arranging transport, and sitting beside a bed. We see the calm voice saying, “Everything will be fine,” but not the fear or uncertainty behind it. That person everyone calls may also be tired. They may worry about money, struggle with their health, or quietly wonder who would come through for them if they could no longer carry everyone else.

Care Has More Than One Currency

In Nigeria, many conversations about family responsibility often begin and end with money. Who paid the school fees? Who sent money home? Who handled the rent? Who covered the medical emergency? These questions matter, especially as the cost of living continues to stretch households. But money is only one currency of care.

Care can also be time!

The sitting in traffic to pick up someone else’s child; the night spent at the hospital bedside; the regular reminder to an elderly parent to remember their medication. Or listening to the same worry repeatedly because the person telling you has nowhere else to take it.

Care can be access!

Advice. Attention. Prayer. Food. Transport. Encouragement. A job referral. A place to stay. A call that says, “I’m outside, come down.” But care comes at a cost, whether small or big. It may cost sleep, emotional energy, peace of mind, or an opportunity that had to be postponed. Black Tax may be one line on the bill, but it is not the whole bill. Much of the cost of care cannot be captured in a bank statement.

Strong Is Not a Support System

One danger of being known as “the strong one” is that people begin to treat strength as if it were permanent. The calls keep coming because you have always answered. The responsibilities keep growing because you have always managed. And when you finally say, “I cannot do this right now,” people may react as though you have changed.

This is why many caregivers struggle to ask for help. They have become so used to being the solution that expressing a need can feel like failure. Setting a boundary can feel selfish. Rest can feel irresponsible.

But strength is not a support system.

A healthy culture of care shouldn’t require one person to stay endlessly available. It should create room for shared responsibility, honest conversations, and for the dependable person to admit, “I need help too.” Care can be beautiful and heavy at the same time. Acknowledging the weight does not make the love less genuine.

Care Should Come Full Circle

Bringing back our culture of care does not mean Nigerians have stopped caring. We clearly have not. We contribute towards hospital bills for people we have never met. We send food to neighbours. We welcome relatives into our homes. We show up for naming ceremonies, funerals, weddings and emergencies. When formal systems fail, people often become each other’s system.

What needs to change is the direction of care. Care should not travel permanently from one person to everyone else. It should be able to return. That means checking on the person who checks on everybody. It means calling without beginning the conversation with, “Please, I need a favour.” It means sharing a responsibility before the person carrying it becomes overwhelmed.

It means respecting their boundaries and understanding that “I cannot do it this time” is not the same as “I do not care.” It also means protecting the caregiver’s health, time, finances, and emotional wellbeing. Families can prepare for emergencies together instead of waiting for one person to rescue everyone. Friends can create safe spaces where the strong friend does not always have to perform strength. Workplaces can recognize that employees may also carry significant caregiving responsibilities outside the office. Care becomes stronger when it is shared.

Start With a Different Call

Think about the last time something went wrong. Whose number did you dial? Now ask yourself a more uncomfortable question: when was the last time you called that person without needing money, advice, access, reassurance, or a solution? Today may be a good day to make a different kind of call.

Say, “I don’t need anything. I just wanted to know how you are.” Ask what they are carrying. Offer to take something off their plate. Encourage them to rest. Support their health. Respect their limits. Remind them that being dependable does not mean they must do everything alone.

For AXA Mansard, the Culture of Care conversation is grounded in a simple belief: the people who protect others deserve protection too. The brand’s role is not to claim ownership of care. Care already belongs to us. It is to help make invisible care visible and encourage all of us to make it more intentional, reciprocal, and sustainable.

So, think about your person.

The one whose number everybody knows.

The one who always says, “I’ll sort it.”

The one who keeps showing up.

Name them.

Thank them.

Protect them. Because the person everyone calls also deserves someone to call. Keep caring for each other. It is the most beautiful form of protection.