Now that I think about it, I’m not sure my dad and I ever had a proper conversation. Not that I didn’t want to talk to him about a lot, but just for the fact that some African parents don’t see the need to engage their children in conversations other than advising them and meeting their needs. I am not saying that all African homes are like that, no, definitely not. I know about people or rather families where the children and their parents are best friends and they know practically everything about their children; things like the child’s dreams and aspiration, their goals, their friends, their strengths and weaknesses, and so on. In situations like this, it is easy for the child to be no one else but himself or herself.
I find it really depressing that my dad died without really getting to know me. I remember days when I’d be so pumped with excitement as I rehearse my speech but I’d get cold feet and run back into my shell without passing my message across to him because I wouldn’t even know how to start.
When I have my own children, God helping me, I’m going to allow them the opportunity to express themselves in various ways, and I am also going to try as much as possible to communicate with them beyond their primary needs. I wish I could have had a better relationship with my dad but now its too late. But I’m sure I’d have the opportunity to do better when I become a parent.