Updated: May 16, 2021
My Dear Africana Woman,
My father died some years ago on this day (13 May). Truth is I don't remember what year he died or the day he died. I am always reminded by the pictures my siblings post. See papa was a rolling stone. He had 7 kids by 5 women. I guess he raised 3. Most of us met as adults. Leading up to his passing, he was terribly sick. The second eldest called us all to say, come see him. No one took it seriously, but I read through the lines that these were his last days. So we rallied and decided to travel together to the town he lived in. My sister flew in from Botswana, and we started off as soon as she landed. It was a 6 hour drive give or take. Stuffed in a car like sardines with family, but we were really strangers, there was an awkward silence. Two hours in, a little chatter had began, and the tension was easing up. Phones rang, some memories were conjured. My younger brother got our attention, he said, "Remember the call I received a few minutes ago? Dad has died" Pin drop silence for a split second, then the wails raised up...
May you never be too late; too late to reconcile, too late to say I am sorry, too late to say I love you. Too late to pursue your purpose. Seize the moment now.
This is the only picture I know, of my father and I. I saw this picture for the first time a month ago.
I am telling you I try to be orderly and civilised for you all. I have my posts nicely planned out. But God just keeps kicking my ideas out the window. So here we are. Let's do this. My first thought is about all the high heels out there, hitting the pavement having no resolution to the neglect and abandonment from their fathers. There are different forms of neglect. I think of a father with more than one family in the same town. I think of a man with so many children and he tries to do right by them by housing them all under one roof, but his wife, in her youth, only has the capacity to love her own. I think of the man who is happy to leave his child with his mother as he continues to sow his wild oats, and just because he puts food on the table, believes he is a father. Help me somebody. It ain't ENOUGH! Do you know there are so many women that will never ever say the word Daddy in their lifetime?