There are highs and lows in life. While you consume, work, play, and sleep, you also have to cope with discomfort. You have personal problems that make life more difficult than you would want, regardless of who you are or what circumstances you find yourself in. However, if you had never been born, none of this would be taking place. Raphael Samuel, a 27-year-old anti-natalist from Mumbai, India, believes that having your own parents is a reason to sue them.
Samuel’s divisive comments are causing quite a commotion on his Facebook page, “Nihilanand.” He frequently shares memes and videos supporting his belief that it’s unfair that your parents opted to bring you into this dysfunctional world and that you were born without their consent.
Some perceive him as being humorous. Some believe he lacks empathy. There are those who genuinely enjoy him. One thing, nevertheless, never goes away: people are still interested in him.
Even though Raphael Samuel might appear a little ludicrous in his disguise—especially when combined with his flamboyant remarks—he nevertheless stands up for the common guy while sporting his trademark false black beard and dark sunglasses. He never stops preaching that parents who give their children a life they didn’t ask for are self-centered and should not be respected.
He usually makes memes to draw attention to his concepts. He poses in front of vividly colored phrases in these pictures. “A good parent puts the child above its desires and needs, but the child itself is a desire of the parent,” reads one of his most recent quotes. #ParentsAreEmpathetic
Samuel oddly enough says he gets along well with his dad (DailyMail). He feels that he is not required to thank them for bringing him here, even if he doesn’t treat them disrespectfully.
Raphael Samuel claims in a video titled “Why am I suing my parents?” that although his father hasn’t accepted it, his mother has accepted his beliefs. “He’s getting used to the idea,” He deals with some really decent parents, for someone who says you don’t have to respect them.
Samuel approaches the possibility of suing his parents more and more as “Nihilanand” gains popularity and amusing online remarks. Through Facebook photographs that assert, “Your parents had you instead of a toy or a dog,” people are endorsing his beliefs and letting him know that he is making a “good point.” You have no debt to them. Their amusement comes from you.
Samuel has even gone so far as to liken having children to slavery (for the owner’s/parent’s gain) and kidnapping (because of the lack of permission). His main objective is to ensure that people are aware that having children is a choice, even though many of his ideas seem to veer more toward sensationalism and internet trolling. In a society where having children is practically a given, he wants to defy convention and show that there are valid reasons not to.
How do you feel? Is he trying to make a point, or is he just making fun of us all?
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.
But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.
It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.
Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.
Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.
But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”
So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.
Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.
I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.
“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”
I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?
“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.
For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.
I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?
But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.
When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted.
I was speechless.
“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.
“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.
Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”
I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”
Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”
I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.
Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.
And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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