DAD STORIES: Ode to overlooked fathers

My colleague was saddened to note that whenever they visited home, he always joined his mom and siblings in the kitchen, leaving their poor dad alone in the living room.

His dad never participated in the warm laughter, storytelling and joy that emanated from the kitchen.

He vowed to change this culture. This required a proactive approach.

When travelling for work, he would always call home every evening to assure his children that he loved them and was working hard for their benefit.

Even when they had gone to bed, they had to be woken up, so that he could to speak to them. He paid school fees, in person, as he couldn’t take the chance of his children assuming their mother, his wife, was providing everything.

ALWAYS APPEARED IN FAMILY PHOTOS

He went to the extent of ensuring that he appeared in all family photographs, sometimes having his image superimposed for events he hadn’t attended, creating an omnipresence that he felt would be hard to ignore.

Whether his was a tale of fact, fiction, or just a zany sense of humour, it brings to light that fatherhood is often an understated affair.

It is quite difficult to forget one’s mother, unless in extreme cases of unfit parenting. However, a dad’s contribution may not always be obvious.

‘HE’S NOT MY DAD!”

A teacher once told us how she once had to detain a child in her class, past the school hours. The child’s mother was unavailable and the youngster could not identify the man claiming to be her father.

Alarmed and suspecting an attempted kidnapping, the teacher contacted the familiar parent and refused to release the child, until the woman arrived.

By then mobile technology was not as ubiquitous as it is today. It was late in the evening when the mother arrived and confirmed that indeed the ‘stranger’ was her husband, and the child’s biological father.

The poor man was shocked beyond words that his own offspring could not recognise him. Apparently, his career required him to work constantly, therefore he had little time to interact with his daughter.

Fatherhood, especially in the African context, is mainly an indirect role, as there is often either a nanny or spouse to undertake the nurturing aspects of child-rearing.

Nowadays this is compounded by an increasing number of capable single mothers, who juggle both roles. However, there is still the subliminal absorption of certain traits into your psyche from your male parent. 

For instance, my father was an early adopter of the naturalist look, and revelled in having his daughters bald, as he was more interested in what was in our heads, than what was on them. To this day, natural hair still reigns among my sisters and me.

QUITE LIBERAL

He was also liberal about what one believed in and took an opportunity to exchange views with the Khadi at my sister’s nikah, though we were raised on Christian beliefs.

For the most part, my dad is a teetotaller, yet he allowed us to drink at home when we came of age. 

Whenever my dad took us out to watch movies or for lunch on weekends, he would often walk us to the city as we lived close by and walking remains one of my favourite past times. I find that I am among the few city dwellers who chose to walk, when the option is available.

Dad was also quite experimental in the choice of restaurants and I often find that I can try anything, at least once. I also gravitate to the authors and genres of the books in my father’s library.

Unfortunately, not all traits are hereditary, otherwise I would have wanted my father’s social nature, a flair for languages, especially mother-tongue, which my dad tried valiantly to teach us, even investing in vernacular literature.

I would also have wished for a sense of direction seeing that my father, who resides up-country is usually able to navigate the changing road infrastructure in the city, without fuss, while I am compelled to invest in studious examination of the route beforehand and a slave to Google maps.

Ultimately, I believe that you are either wholeheartedly in agreement or virulently opposed to your father’s philosophy of life, even if you are not cognisant of it.

My dad always believed that there were never any greater or lesser persons, than yourself and that possessions or lack of, shouldn’t faze you.

Probably his fault that I dislike shopping, a characteristic which exasperates my mother.

Whether your father’s presence in your life is constant or sporadic, it is impossible to escape the influence he has on your adult life. Therefore, to my dad and all the others making a positive impact, I say thank you.

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What would you like your dad to know this Father’s Day? Can you say it in 800 words? Email: [email protected]