In search of an endangered species

Nnasaretha Kgamanyane | Friday December 5, 2014 13:15

 

In search of an endangered species

MPHO MOKWAPE

I know the pain of having an absent father all too well. At my age now, I still wonder what my life would have been like had he been around.  Often times, I play the ‘what if’ game in my mind.

Nonetheless, I do thank God for the life I have, the strong women that raised me to be the person I am today. I have to give it all to my grandmother, for if it was not for her I would have long fallen apart.

However, despite being raised by strong women, I often find myself relating to people who totally grew up without fathers even though I knew mine.

I got to know him so late in my life and through it all I felt it was no use trying to get back the lost years. I felt rejected and I wished I had a different father.

The pain, the emptiness and the longing of fatherly love are all emotions that often build up through the years sometimes even through to adulthood.

Let us just say it is never easy growing up knowing that your father, for whatever reason chose not to be there and take you through the journey of life. 

Rejection and abandonment can never just be something you just ‘get over’ easily. Sometimes for some people it can take years of therapy as one has to move on and make peace with everything for their own sanity.

Often people think a father should only be present when married to the mother, but these days we have so many singles mothers out there.

Just because you are not married to your ‘baby mama’ does not mean that the responsibility of being a father also vanishes.

Being a father is not a choice it is a responsibility that one has to bear for the rest of their lives.

Now looking back, I have no words, just feelings and I often think about the fact that when my father died, I felt no void or loss because I did not know him.

I felt nothing, no sadness, and no tears, just nothing and I didn’t even attend his funeral despite being told he was late.  To me he was just a man I never knew.

My father and I never really connected like a normal father and daughter even during the time I stayed with him in Palapye. We were like strangers being forced to live together.  Do not get me wrong I do not hate my father, but to me I feel like he was never a chapter in my life to be read and understood.

We hardly talked and the fallout that we once had was the deciding factor, which was the end of us until he passed on.

I still wonder if I blame him totally, but all I know is that I am in a better place and space in my life right now.

I turned out to be a strong woman, and since I did not struggle to find a job and take care of myself I have no regrets whatsoever.

At the end of the day, I can say I am proud of who I have become despite his absence in my life.

 

NNASARETHA KGAMANYANE

Recently, Botswana joined other countries to celebrate International Men’s Day under the theme, ‘Promoting Positive Involvement of Men as Fathers and Carers’.That theme caught my attention. It was indeed a good gesture. It was in fact a brilliant initiative, more especially in my country, as from my observations many men including my own father appear to care little about their children.

When I was growing up I was a very happy child because I received the love and support from both my mother and father. I was given love, security, shelter and was well fed. What could one ask for? Everything was perfect. I loved my life. I loved my family.

Things turned sour when I was in my late primary school years.  I remember everything very clearly. I remember the day that my life changed. A perfect family turned into a horror movie.  All these things started after my father had this friend with whom he went out for ‘drinks’ with. He would return home violent and hearing my mother cry was painful for me.  As the first-born, I did not know what to do; all I could do was listen helplessly.

My dad stopped giving us attention. All he did was go to work and every spare time he had he would drink and sometimes sleep out.  He did not care about us. We seemed not to exist in his life. He would not play with us anymore nor did he make us laugh and eager to see him when he was away. He would beat us and call us names. He hated us.

When I was doing my standard seven, my father and mother broke up. I was left with him but I felt that as he was the breadwinner, I had to take my siblings and stay with him so that he could take care of us, but when he found my siblings at the home he built with my mother, he got furious and hit me.

I became resistant to his beatings. They did not mean a thing. In fact, the pain he inflicted on my body through the beatings seemed to soothe my emotional pain.  A few months after my mother’s departure, he brought home a new girlfriend.

At first things seemed better, but they all turned sour after she told him to chase us out of the only place we called home. He obliged.  “Tsaya bo monnao o ba ise ko ga mmaalona. Ga ke itse gore o ka tsaya bana mo go mmaabone o batsisa kwano. O raya gore ba tlhokomelwe ke mang,” he said. I was surprised, as that did not seem like him. He used to love us. He loved his children very much that he would protect them with everything he had, even with his last breath. After that it was the end of him. 

Whenever we visited him and his new family he chased us away. We tried everything to bond with him, but he cared less about us. Things got even worse after my mother dragged him before the magistrate’s court to pay for our maintenance.  

Whenever we would visit him and his new wife he would tell us that we must go back where we came from, as he had nothing else to give us.“Le batlang kwano ka ke isa madi a lona ko go mmakaseterata? Bana ke lona ke eng le batla go tlisa dikgang mo lwapeng lame?” he would ask every time we tried to visit with fury ridden all over his face.

To date, I do not know what he wanted us to do because all we wanted from him was his love. How can a man just toss his only children away like that as if they are not his blood? How can he disown his biological children like that when he has been part of their lives when they were young?

Hearing many men talking about how much they adore their children always make me long for that fatherly love. Seeing some taking their children to the mall. I admire all the children who send their fathers, happy Father’s Day messages.