There
was a point in my life I dwelled on my Dad’s imperfections and it held me back
from being expressive to this wonderful man that has stood up for me in all
things.
One
would think he did something terrible. It was one kain small beef but it was
actually because I got punished for something I didn’t do. So following advice,
I took some time and talked to him about it. Funny enough, the incident was
still on his mind. He explained carefully why I got punished. He had done that
explanation before but I was a kid back then and it just didn’t make sense and
it made me a very withdrawn and mistrusting child and I told him so. He said
that is why he still remembers because he feels guilty he passed the message
the wrong way. The reason I got punished was because I let the other kid
outsmart me not because he believed the tales the kid brought back. Finally it
made sense.
My Dad
is a sweet soul actually. He is
passionate and kind. Issues that bother people worry him more. He’s not so old
school as I thought he was when I was a kid. He is strict, frugal and a
disciplinarian.
I got my
first financial advice from my Dad. Well, I interpreted it as best as my 5
year-old head could and I got one of those old white Curry containers and
recruited 2 more kids into my Esusu (savings) group. So we split our N2 church
offering which we were sure of every Sunday into and saved half inside the
Curry Container and I kept it as the Group Head. My Dad said to save for
project so I was saving and will figure out the project later. Maybe it was how
we stopped whining about going to church that alerted the parents or the fact
that my CBN was my Dad’s last drawer. We got found out. The punishment was our
money was confiscated. That day I learned a lesson in corruption.
I love
my Dad, a lot. When I was about getting married, it mattered to me so much that
my Dad was cool with my husband and for some reason, it clicked. My Dad loves
my husband so much that sometimes I think more than he loves me…nah, I refuse
to get jealous. Both of them are calm and brilliant but very very different.
Today is
about my Daddy, my number one Dede. The man who flogged me sore as a kid yet
took me to the best schools of his time, my first teacher, the man who has
never been disappointed in me even when I make mistakes. I wasn’t an easy child
to deal with. I was a quiet child who refused to communicate and would run away
from the house often when I wasn’t comfortable (luckily to our Country home).
Daddy always believed there was a method to my madness.
My Dad
taught me to read, to stand up for myself and to be anything I want to be, to
desire greatness in life, to reach and keep reaching. Some years back, I used to
think my parents were projecting their dreams through me but then I realised
one thing, I’ve never been coerced. It has always been about giving me options,
trusting me and letting me be whoever I wanted to be.
Happy
Father’s Day…next year will be better.
