For Father’s Day
How are you? How is everything about you? I got a message from you now that you are on your way to your station. Safe journey. Hope the driver is driving responsibly? If he is not, kindly tell him to slow down. Tell him you are not in a hurry to end the journey neither are you in a hurry to end your life. Tell him you have a wonderful son who needs you more than anything. So, he should chill and in case he is tired of this life with all its crises, he should kindly not take you people, his passengers on his way to Sheol.
Today is Sunday. And it is also Father’s Day. The Google app on my device has been disturbing me since morning. I don’t think that thing even knows I go to church. It sha wants me to know today is Father’s day. I bet it knows I have a cool dad I need to send a message. And so I login to Facebook and the first thing Zuckerberg tells me, even before showing my news feeds is that today is for you. So, take this as a letter from your son to you.
Thank you for being my father and for fathering me. They are two different things. And one can happen without the other. Thank you for being with me for all the seventeen years and eight months that I have spent on Planet Earth. Even though distance has dealt with us badly, we will still be together…forever.
Thank you for that particular night some four years ago while we still lived in that house where we saw cows battle every morning. That night that I slept and suddenly got up (not wake up) from the bed and went for the back door. Thank you for being awake that day some hours before midnight…reading perhaps. I went to the backyard and opened the door ajar. You came up and asked why. And because I sleep like a log of wood, I say I wanted to ease myself, as though we did not have toilets. And then you stood by, watching me as I stood there looking at the moon and then going back inside…without closing the door.
Thank you for being awake that night for who knows what would have happened if you were not awake to lock the door that night after my sleepwalking? Perhaps a snake or some carnivorous beasts like those eating our legs here would have entered. Thank you for always being awake when I need you to. Thank you for that night and for many other nights that I do not know.
And most importantly, thank you for telling me this story. Thank you for being my father. And thank you for fathering me.
Happy Father’s Day.