OFF MY CHEST: Fatherhood is not for me

The building I grew up in was made of pre-fabricated concrete slabs.

Water would sometimes seep through the slab joints and into the neighbour's house downstairs.

She hated it! She complained incessantly. We mostly ignored her.

Until she threatened to report us to the City Council, then my mum took action. I remember the fundi who came in with cement, sand and some tools was quite jovial.

I was content to watch from afar until Mama shoved me towards him. She said: “Wewe ni mwanaume, unafaa ujue kufanya kazi mingi in case maisha ikuendee vibaya usishindwe kulisha familia!” (You are a man, you should learn how to do different jobs in case life does not turn out as expected and you are unable to take care of your family).

It was the first time I came face to face with the expectations society places on a man’s shoulders.

No doubt, Mama meant well. It is over a decade since that incident but I have over the years come across many more expectations of what society has for a man.

Key among them is to provide for his family. A man in Kenya can be many things, a coward, a liar even a thief. However, if that man possesses the singular attribute of being able to provide, all his sins are washed away.

I have always found this curious. The idea of a man not desiring a family thus destroys that image of masculinity that society has created for itself.

CHILDREN NOT FOR ME

I recently had a conversation with a couple of female friends.

I intimated that I felt that perhaps children are not for me. I dislike the sound of crying babies. High pitched screaming voices make me a little more willing than usual to sanction murder.

I do not want to change diapers or not sleep properly for three months straight. I do not understand people who grew up wanting to have babies.

I envy that level of focus. At 24, I am still trying to figure out my life. A baby would send my life into a tail spin.

I admit, that I do find babies fat cheeks exceedingly adorable. And I cannot control myself from throwing babies high in the air while shouting “ruuuuuu – kaaaaa, ruuuuu – kaaaa.”

But I have never thought of myself as a father; of being responsible for a life, and its entire existence. I admit that perhaps some part of this is fuelled by cowardice.

A deep-seated fear of not being enough. Not being worthy of this child that I bring into the world.

There are of course many other valid reasons for not desiring children. The financial aspect is the most valid of reasons.

The cost of raising a child in Nairobi is enough to drive a man mad.

When I told my friends of my desire not to have children, they were shocked! They wondered aloud what I was working for.

As if a man’s labour is only valid when directed towards the sustenance of a wife and child.

I had no response that could sufficiently explain my position to the said friends. They could not understand how a trip to a nude beach in Hawaii could compare to changing diapers.

Or perhaps why dancing in the streets of Rio with beautifully but sparingly adorned women was worth more to me than looking into the eyes of my son.

These were unfair comparisons. Making me out to be the bad guy who valued experiences over a life.

If I never have kids, my life will be enough as it is. And for all of you wondering where all my money will go when I’m dead, it will probably fix the street lights in Kitengela.

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