ARE YOU THAT PAPAA?

A Chit Chat on Fatherhood Tales…

My name is Omosh, I work in an artisan shop at Kamukunji market. The shop belongs to a Muhindi, who has operated the business for over thirty years. My job involves making different metallic crafts, from soft aluminum sufurias to hardcore wheelbarrows. I am a father to six children. Of these, four are girls and two are boys. My eldest Oyugi, is ten years and my youngest, named after my dear mum, Atieno, is just nine months. Of these children, four go to school, the other two are yet to join school. I am passionate about my job, not because I enjoy hearing that gnawing sound of metal being crushed, but because it feeds me and my family. I derive joy knowing that, that bad irritating loud gnawing metalic sound, is what butters my bread. My boss, the Muhindi, can be too much, with lots of insults at times, especially when we have lots of orders and some people failed to show up for work. He would scold and scold, claiming that we don’t take our work seriously, and also brags of how he pays us enough to feed us and our poor families. Because of these insults, there are days when you would even dread asking for permission to do fatherly duties like taking your child to the hospital. Last year when I requested him to allow me to accompany my wife to Mama Lucy for Atieno’s delivery, he sarcastically said to me, Wewe Omosh iko taka kufanya kazi kweli? Wewe iko zaa zaa kila wakati , chukua hii extra ikusaidie kulipa bill. He can be kind sometimes, but ruthlessly kind. We love him because at times when we are free over lunch hour, he talks to us about his fatherhood journey. He mostly talks about his children, and how he is proud of the men and women they have become. He gives us life’s lessons about marriage but mostly about parenting especially on fatherhood. This is something I quite admire about him, which helps me to be focused by ensuring I strive even harder to provide the best for my growing family,,, excuse me, phone call. Yes boss,, ndio boss,, bado mkutano haijaisha,, yes najua nafaa nirudi nimalizie hizo wheelbarrow.., This Muhindi …

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That guy though, how do you tolerate him, I thought he gave you an off on Father’s day? For me my story is rather different. Oh I am Kenneth by the way. My wife called me Kenny. And she still remains the only person who calls me Kenny. There was some kind of comfort and calmness that came from her voice whenever she called me Kenny. We had been married for five years before we had our first child. We had been trying so much to get a child and just when we had almost given up on it, boom, we were blessed. She conceived. The pregnancy wasn’t the smoothest, she had lots of bed rests and off duties. I took time off work whenever I could, to take care of her and also do other household duties. Unfortunately, when she went into a strained labor, even before we could make any major decisions, she had to be rushed for an emergency cs. My daughter, Lucky, was born at 4:00 am at Nairobi women’s hospital. My wife never made it. She never woke up after the surgery. It’s been seven years of parenting and most of the times I don’t know whether I am acting as the father or the mother. I just think I end up getting caught in between those two roles. Walking out of Nairobi women’s hospital on that fateful afternoon in June 2014, holding my daughter in my arms was the beginning of my fatherhood journey. No one prepares you, especially when your partner is not with you. The state of confusion, of meeting the demands of the child, and your own demands, really made me have a different view of life in general. I was lucky to have been the first born, so I did a lot of work taking care of my siblings while growing up. Taking care of Lucky was not that difficult apart from the diaper situation which I am now a pro. It’s been a journey of choosing to live life differently, especially when you know you have this person who looks up to you, to nurture, to provide for and protect at the same time. I am now well versed with daddy duties, doing things I never thought I would, like accompanying my daughter to the salon, arranging for playdates, doing dress up etc. About fatherhood, I have learnt over these years that, you never know when you are doing it right or wrong but you just keep at it. At times you have doubts with constant worries that are you enough, but my prayer has always been to continue being the solid pillar that Lucky can always look up to for as long she lives. To be there for her whenever she needs her father at all times…

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Nyakimo, or Nyakii is my name. I am a father to three children. Two girls and one boy. I live with one girl and the boy. The other girl lives with her mother, my ex wife. We parted ways, ten years ago, before I remarried five years after our divorce. Being a father and a co parent, hasn’t been quite of the easiest journeys. My daughter, Lisa, and I were very close, and I think she is the glue that still binds her mum to me even though we are separated. To me, fatherhood has been almost similar to you guys, nothing out of the ordinary apart from learning how to love my children equally. To show affection in equal measure, to the children that I live with, and to my daughter who I still have to be a father to, even when we are both miles away. She is almost a teen now, and I love the the young lady she is becoming. I can count myself lucky too because my wife and my other kids have embraced this mixed family. Initially when we started, there were feuds, but those have calmed down now especially when we all accepted that none of us is going anywhere. The constant worry has always been, will she grow up to resent me or will she believe that her mum and I had to part ways for the good of all of us. Right now she is a bit young to understand this mixed family thing, but I can only pray that she understands why it happened when she gets older. I would have loved to be the one she can consult and run to when she has those girl stuff to discuss that a father can address especially where boys are concerned. We talk over the phone though, but I know the feeling would have been different if we were closer. My greatest desire is to be the father that my children can run to, even when they make mistakes, they can all be assured of my unconditional love…

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Sorry guys, I came in a bit late, traffic from Ngong road is quite something. I am Joshua, but you can call me Baba Stacey. I love being referred to my daughter’s name because she defines who I am and it makes me happy to know that I am father to someone. I usually visit Kenyatta Hospital over lunch hour everyday whenever I can, to check on my princess Stacey who has been in a comma for the last eighteen months. On that fateful December 2019, when we were coming to Nairobi from our holiday in shags, just when we were about to get to Limuru town, along Kimende area, we had a very nasty car accident, that confined my daughter , my only child into a comma. Life has never been the same. Even though we are hopeful and prayerful that she will wake up from that comma, I usually just can’t help but worry. I ask myself tones of questions with little answers. Will she remember me? Will she remember the days when she rode on my back? Or the days when we did school projects together. She is a very brilliant girl. She received many awards for poetry. Oh that girl can recite, we call her Chimamanda. Most of the time whenever I am at KNH, I just bring her poems along with me, where I get to recite them for her. With the hope that she may hear me, open her eyes and say daddy, I can recite better than you. This journey has truly brought me down to my knees because I have lost a couple of friends and even businesses, because apart from the bill that we are struggling to pay, I don’t have time to engage in anything else. In every little time I get, I just want to be by Stacey’s side just incase she wakes up from that comma. I would love it if it’s my face she first sees when she opens her eyes. If I could, I would trade my life with hers, because as days go by, I kind of feel that she is being robbed of her childhood lying in that bed. That is the most painful thing to watch as a father, especially knowing that there’s nothing much you can do apart from praying and hoping…

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Wow, you guys your stories men,,. For me, you can call me Ahmed. I lost my son to cancer last year. And I think that was one of the most painful things I got to experience not just as a man but as a father. We all believe that we should live long enough for our children to bury us, but not us burying them. That man, you never recover from, even in a million years. I watched him fight for his life, fighting for his recovery. He was a very strong champion that one. Even when we got back from India, we thought that he had now fully recovered. On that evening I went to check on him to give him his tabs, I found him lying there on his bed. He looked rather peaceful and a bit pale. His body had already gotten cold. My wife was pregnant then, I am just glad that I was the one who found him, otherwise I think she would have collapsed from the shock causing multiple tragedies. Life of course has never been the same. Everything in our house has always been a constant reminder of Yusuf. He was the first born. The child who made me a father for the first time. He was a charming boy and very passionate about football. Even in his last days, we would still talk about the FA cup and the Premier league. He was a true Liverpool fan. I had travelled to England sometime and managed to get him a signed Liverpool Jersey. That’s what he was wearing the day he died. We played a lot of football together before he became very ill. I had signed him up for the Ligi Ndogo football club along Ngong road. Every time I pass by that route heading to work, I can’t help but feel that cut throat pain, remembering the times we had at that field. But fatherhood has always been about reminiscing the beautiful memories we create with our children, because we don’t know how much longer each one of us is going to be here. I think my biggest fatherhood lesson has been, being present for your child, being in their life as much as we can, knowing who they are from an early age, being open to have conversations with them whenever we can…my champ Yusuf, Papaa misses you, Inna Lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un…

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Lastly, Kahindi is my name. For me I wouldn’t want to consider myself a failure as a father, even when the rest of the world chose to point its fingers at me as one. I used to work in Qatar, I left my family when they were quite young. This hustle mentality started a long time ago. Looking at all of us, I want to believe that I am the oldest amongst all of you. My story began almost twenty five years ago, when I left Kilifi in pursuit of greener pastures. My kids by then, were below five years. I have two sons, Matano and Kingi. Or had two sons, I just don’t know how to refer to them any more these days. One of them is serving a life sentence at Shimo La tewa prison for crimes of assaults and robbery with violence. The other one, last time I heard of him was about two years ago. He started dealing with drugs at a very early age. He has been on and off rehab. As a family, we have tried as much as we can to provide him with the support and help to see him get better. I was away for such a long time, and I never got to spend time with them. Sometimes I feel like taking the blame for their inconsequential behaviors because if I were there as they grew up, maybe they could have turned out differently. They could have been more responsible, maybe even have their own families or maybe just had some order brought into their lives. When I got wind of their behaviors, I tried as much as I could to talk to them whenever I could, but I think their laxity was quite more because of the distance. Eventually, I had to leave my work in Qatar, I used up my savings to set up the fishing and boat business in Kilifi so that I could get close to them, but I think I came in quite late. The damage was already done. My sons were already long gone. They were already lost into the world. As a father, you don’t know what to do, you just painfully take the blame. I still revisit that last day at the airport when I was leaving for Qatar, where these two kids emotionally bid me goodbye, crying to me saying, baba usiende , and the men I found when I came back, just seem not to be one and the same. I am still their father though, and even though I may not take full responsibility of their actions, my absence can be partially to blame for it. My advice to you who are still raising young kids, ensure that you are present as they grow. Purpose to create beautiful memories for them that they can run to when they need to take a time off from adulthood. Remind them that even though a big part of what they choose to do with their lives is their responsibility, your role as a father, apart from providing for them, is to nurture them, to mold them into the people you would wish to see them become. Children look up unto their fathers a lot, expecting a lot of validation from us. They almost do everything to make us proud. As fathers, it’s our duty to prepare them for a life, that is not only bright and promising, but also, one that will accommodate their different abilities and uniqueness. We need to let them know that they can make mistakes, but they are solely responsible for their outcomes, and as their father, you can only provide them with proper guidance.

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As fathers, our efforts at times may go unrecognised, but here is our promise to you our children, we love you. Our ways of expressing love and affection may be a bit different, but be assured that we love you dearly.

***To us Fathers,, Cheers,, this is our day 🍻🍻🍺🍺🍺🍺👊👊🤜🤛……..***

(The Fathers in question are; Omosh, Kenny, Nyakii, Baba Stacey, Ahmed and Kahindi)

About the characters in this story line, They are all fictitious. The names used and places don’t reflect any individual known to me whatsoever. I (sensesnhumor) just used them to bring out a story of fatherhood tales.

Wishing all Fathers, Dads, Father figures, Fathers to be and Mothers who play both roles of mother and father,,,

A DELIGHTFUL, HAPPY FATHERS DAY!

#sensesnhumor

Luke 15:20-24  So he got up and went to his father.  “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.   “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’   “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

Matthew 7:9–11 Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

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