How is your relationship with your father? That is a question I do not like answering because I could say a lot. I would not say I love my father neither can I say that I hate him ( yeah it is complicated). If you are wondering where it all started , brace yourself because I am going to take you to a trip to my childhood. I would like you to go with me, look at this story in my perspective and tell me if I am right to feel the way I feel.
At a tender age, my idea of a father was the one who came home late . The one who would come, sit and be served. The one who would take control of the remote and change all our favorite TV shows. The one who would be a silent observer smoking in the living room as we sat with our gloomy faces staring at each other( note there was no internet nor smartphones at that time) wondering when he would retire to bed so we could have our freedom back. In the end we would doze off and wake up to find ourselves in bed by magic ( only our mums and elder siblings understood that magic)
It came a time when I was so bored with the smoke from the cigarette. I hated the smoke so much . I had to do something. It is then that I devised a plan with my smaller brother. Every time he would come and start smoking , we would get out of the house until the time I would gather the courage to confront him of the matter. Luckily I did not have to confront him since our plan worked. He decided to quit smoking. Yeees! Mission accomplished.
I used to envy how other kids related with their dads, chatting and playing with them. They did not have an idea how lucky they were. How deeply I was yearning for that fatherly love. Anyway that did not make me feel any remorse towards him. What brought about these feelings is when he started to fight with my mum. My siblings and I would have a free ticket to watch live wrestling everyday. Many are times that we went to our grandfathers place because of the fights. Yes your guess is right, my mum still went back each and every time.
We would watch helplessly as she was beaten mercilessly, slaps, kicks, punches. It was a house full of drama. I would watch them fight sometimes of petty issues sometimes serious ones which I had no idea about. We would go and find the house turned upside down. Literally upside down. Radios, gadgets and other appliances scattered on the floor. In the middle of the night when we are soundly asleep we would be awakened by screams and arguments. All our relatives from my father’s side lived in the same compound as us but they never did anything. All they did was just watch as the drama unfolded. I was standing there as my mother was being kicked mercilessly wondering why my relatives could not do anything. I mean do something, she had run all the way here so that you can help, not stare for Christ sake!
My dad despite not being a good father, was also a not so faithful husband to my mother. Most of his money is spent on alcohol and women up to date. I am pretty sure I have step-siblings who have no idea I exist. I keep wondering why he is so generous with other women and their kids whereas he is so stingy with his own offspring. To get a dime from him will take a lot of convincing which may not even bare fruit. (Sorry I drift a lot, please bare with this story is so emotional to me.)
Why do men cheat on their wives. I remember when my dad used to bring his women to the house and we would watch them as they munched on chips and left for the better of the day. This stopped eventually after my mothers warnings,( She has a loud and bitter mouth. The insults she spits can make you hate her. I tell you she can really provoke you, sometimes I do not blame my dad, but still!) However, a lion does not stop eating prey because they moved, he will follow it. That is what my father did. At one point my mum got word and raided the location she was given. True to the word, she caught him red handed with another woman in a room half naked. The crux of the matter was , he was not ashamed of the deed. To think he would change was like hoping that one day a cock will lay eggs, Impossible!
I wonder how my mum managed to live with a man like that who would beat you, cheat on you and disrespect you. She used to blame us and condemn us for not standing up for when she was beaten. We were only children what could we have merely done. The beatings finally subsided after an incident happened.
My mum was trying to prepare a tradition dish she had learnt from her friend. She however dozed off and forget she had left the food cooking. The food overcooked and burnt out. It was one of my uncles that came to wake my mother to ask what was cooking. My mother hurriedly woke up and took care of things. My dad had not yet arrived, so when he came, he stormed right inside their bedroom shouting. ”What is burning? ‘My mum being as arrogant as she always is, did not answer. My dad with all the alcohol he put in his system, got remorseful. His ego was touched. He started beating her, slapping and questioning her like a kid. She started to scream and we all woke up.
He was not stopping, until my relatives came to the house. My grandmother was called from her sleep. She had tried to talk to her son countless time to man up but to no avail. She left after lecturing my dad and everyone followed her to their respective houses. It was us left, my siblings and my my not so dear parents. We were seated there crying after what had happened. It was that my sister (she was older than me) finally spoke up. She confronted my dad with such rage and courage, telling him she was tired of the whole situation. I think the words that triggered him to stop abusing my mum were these three little powerful words,’ I Hate You!’ Finally the drama stopped, ( well not entirely but the physical did subside.)
The relationship between my dad and I is purely wounded to no recover. He is has never made an effort to change the situation. As far as I can see, things are going to be that way for us. Tell me now, am I wrong to feel this way towards him?
Her Volumes 