A fatherless Generation (2)

This encapsulates the problem of this generation; a fatherless generation. In most of the cases, it wasn’t that the fathers were absent from home, rather they were too busy trying to fulfill their roles as providers for the family to remember that they also have responsibilities as teachers to their confused sons. As a young boy growing up, there were so many things I wanted to know but I was too scared to turn to my father. Scared because every time I thought of my father what came to mind was that big guy who set you straight when your mother reckoned that her loving correction was not commensurate to the offence committed. Daddy was the one you had to wait for to make decision concerning financial needs in the house. He had the final say in almost all things and my mom was more of my lawyer, interceding on my behalf in some instances.

But for some funny reasons, my sisters didn’t seem scared of my father so this meant that I grew up thinking that I was definitely adopted. There were also many occasions when I thought that I was also more or less an experimental child. Temi is going to school; let’s give him 10kobo for lunch. Even though I protested that it was not enough my complain fell on deaf ears. They would tell me, boy you have to learn to manage. When Motunde, my immediate younger sister started school they suddenly realized that 10 kobo was not enough and the lunch money was increased to 20 kobo. That also probably explained why I was probably the only one that went to public school in my family. I was in the same public primary school with Motunde and then suddenly they felt the quality was too low. So the decision was for her to go to a private school while I stayed back since I was already going to primary 5. That became the standard in my family, as all my 8 sibling went to private primary schools.

All these events that took place when I was very young influenced my tender mind and helped shape my perceptions of my father. My father was a hard man. Like most African fathers, he believed that if you spare the rod, then you spoil the child. That was strange though because I was the only male child for a very long time. Amongst the Yoruba people, as with many African cultures, male children tend to have privileges. Not me. The only assurances I had was that for every time I went wrong, my behind would get the stick. That was because my father believed that not doing all these would make me irresponsible and then he would have regrets later on in life. This assertion was based on his life and personal experience.

Together, we can achieve more. Cheers