I have the potential…
So it is Father’s Day. I gather it caters for potential father like me as well; I will be a father some day, oh a Biological father to boot I bet, but beyond that- a man who will be present in a nuclear family setting- Husband to a breathing, sighing, heaving, sometimes insecure and mildly jealous woman.
See- it takes a mother to make a father; under ideal circumstances it has got to be a willing potential mother- a rational, consenting adult of sound mind wired towards the idea of motherhood. Things morning sickness, baby kicks, sleepless nights, horizontal realignments, labour……
Beyond procreation, I want to be a daddy who is present. So maybe someday I will figure out with whom I will propagate my Lunje genes.
I want a daughter, I want a son, I want twins with my blood flowing in their veins, pumping in their hearts- but wanting and getting are worlds apart.
I want a toto, to be baba so-and-so . A child who will scribble with crayons overflowing with the ‘ guilt ’ of the innocence of childhood ( whatever that means, suggests or implies ), and hide under my pillow the colourful scrawlings of a child ‘ I love you Daddy.’
See, only a father, present or absent makes a mother happen- so we acknowledge all the fathers of the world. Happy Father’s Day.
So today I will tell you the story of my friend Mwende; at only 25 she really is one of my favourite people; never mind we have an age difference gap of over 10 years, and I am not the younger one.
I have known her for some years now, for a considerable period of time drawn by her raw wit, smart chatter and especially the empty rhetoric when she is angry at someone and subconsciously wants me to side with her.
She is a very attractive woman, hinging on the petite side- with the envied flat tummy- flat like an iron. She has some dressing sense to boot, aah maybe I’m saying all these because I crushed over her years ago.
We lost track for some time, she vanished from social media and stopped picking up my calls or responding to my text messages- I reciprocated in kind; then after a hiatus of slightly over a year she sent me a text message;
‘ Guess what, I am now a mum.’
It jerked me a bit, getting somewhat disappointed.
‘ Oh congratulations, happy for you.’ I said.
What I actually meant from my high ‘self righteous ivory tower’ (Stop looking at me that way) was, gal- unprotected sex, outside marriage- with the associated risks. You should have known better!
I met her 8 months later, and she broke it down for me.
‘ I was in shock, I realized that I was pregnant only 2 months later- I mean I was always careful took all the precautions, but yea- it happened; atleast I was sure who the dad was.’ Mwende said.
‘ Has he taken responsibility for the baby?’
I asked for convenience purposes, predictably expecting the typical ‘sad’ yarn that is the hit and run soap opera replayed every so often; oh like the guy bailed out.
‘ Yes he even came home to my parents to tell them as much.’ Mwende stated in a matter of fact way.
I almost chocked with guilt, the coffee that I was sipping ‘ went the wrong way.’
I could subconsciously sense the tone of her voice rise a pitch higher with an almost wicked triumphant affirmation of the fact that she could read my mind- atleast what I imagined she was about to say.She was mocking me.
This caught me off- guard and I stirred a bit to reorganize my thoughts, and say something else away from the pathos that I was about to start trading.
‘ So when are you visiting me and Jackson?’ This dragged me from my zubs
Oh so Jackson is his name, aaah I see, the man who put my dear Mwende in the family way, disrupting the babies only in marriage drill we kept talking about-
But wait a minute….
Got me thinking about the Jackson’s of this world. Men who somehow find themselves in the matrix of ‘unplanned’ pregnancies; Ok, I don’t buy the ‘unplanned’ crap- choices have consequences, duh…
Fatherhood goes beyond being a sperm donor, disappearing and leaving a bewildered woman high and dry, with a rounded bulge and moving to the next target as a serial absentee father; it is owning up- assuming the role and playing the part.
Being a father is a conscious choice for the self respecting man. Challenging a take as it may prove sometimes, it is a noble calling- You are supposed to be the head of the household. The priest of your home.
Real fathers are the men who stand by their women, their kids, their responsibilities and say Yes to Fatherhood….true shujaas.
See, the coward’s way out is the easiest- she simply says the dreaded ‘ I have missed my periods’, and the dude pull the miracle that can only be rivalled by that guy in Embu who apparently kidnapped himself and vanished, only to resurface and quip ‘ I do not know where I was, maybe we will find out when the police finish investigations.’( Heck how will they know if you have no idea!)
Such fellas only re-appear when the kids win BBA or an Oscar to claim their seed. Frail and shrivelled, they come to demand compensation for their seed. Shame….
Kenya is fast evolving into a nation of bitter single mothers and amorous absentee fathers sowing in the vineyard and vanishing; but not the Jackson’s of this world, this men STAY.
So mad- RESPECT to the real men of valour who man up to the role of DADDY. Salute to the ones also taking care of kids who are not necessarily theirs Biologically
No man does anyone a favour by accepting responsibility for a pregnancy, even if they go the DNA way. It’s like living in those crowded bedsitters in Eastleigh with a common clothes- hanging line, you do your dirty laundry hang on the clothes line and get what’s yours when dry, period!
It would appear though that many men are allergic to responsibility, but not the Jackson’s. They own up, be men about it and handle their creation- there’s a curious breed of Super Jackson’s as well, single father’s; away from the tantrum and drama of the ladies storming the office and dumping the babies on the desk; smearing the reputation with effluent ‘ Wee ni mwanaume aina gani, jinga kabisa kaa na huyu mtoto na usiwahi nitafuta.’
Super Jackson will take the baby and raise it, only like a man can.
So as the world mark Father’s Day. We salute the great men who like Jackson STAY and man up to the noble role of being a Father, alive or departed THEY WERE THERE, THEY WERE PRESENT FOR THEIR KIDS.
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY- especially you Mr. Japheth ‘#BabaWhileYouWereAround’ Itenya – Thank You Dad
BwanaSagala 