I want that rare fatherly love. The scarce times when you tell me that you love me: that’s what I want. I don’t want you to handle me like a tray of eggs in a bumpy road. You can break me, teach me, let me understand what it is to survive in this world. You can leave me out in the cold. You can thrust me out in the dark where the owls and bats will keep haunting me as in the tales I read back in school. You can throw me away in the stony ground where my soft skin will be bruised: hoping mum doesn’t realize. You can deny me play station 5, or a Nike outfit, or a vacay at the coast of Seychelles: you can do that.
But one thing I ask, let me know that you love me. Call me out one day, sit me down in your car, approach me in my room, call me while at school and tell me how much you love me. It doesn’t matter how often you do it, I want to see it in your eyes, feel it in my heart, store it in my mind, I want it to fire up my day. I want to feel the warmth of your heart over mine when I hug you. I want to know that I have a warrior for a dad who will not hesitate to make me the greatest man.
I want you to crack jokes with the intent of communicating something important and later on let me figure it out on my own. Or at times crack lame jokes because that’s what dads do. I want to know your taste of jokes. I may probably teach you some nice jokes in the process. If you would have spent more time with me, you would have realized how funny I am. Your old ribs would have been squeaking like grandpa’s rocking chair. I will never forget that dad. Make me to never think of having another dad. Let me find a friend in you.
When a careless brute or an immature being breaks my heart, I need you to console me, advise me, make me understand that it is what it is. I want to find peace in your presence. I want to see you roar at my enemies or frenemies and force them out. Let them understand that I have a lion for a dad, guess that will make me a confident cub.
I want you to take me to the table of men. Roast some steak with me, teach me how to do it too. Give me the knife for me taste some of it. Teach me how to add salt and a little sauce to spice it. As we savor the moment peacefully holding a glass of wine, I want you to tell me about your youthful days. Were you as naughty as I am? Were you always at loggerheads with grandpa? Or were you this quiet boy? Did you long for attention just as I am? Tell me all that, I have all the time in the world, are you ready to create some?
I want to go to your office. I want to see your colleagues at work. I want to meet Robert who will take me down the street and get me a drink. I want to meet Esther who will ask me if I have a girlfriend. I want to sit with Mark who will let me use his laptop. Don’t let me meet Solomon though, he will start giving me these long speeches that I should read and secure myself a great life ahead. What is a great life ahead if you cannot enjoy what is right here with you! I want to make memories with you dad.
I need you to tell me about your first girlfriend. Wait, did you have any? Woooow! How was she? If you were to meet her today what would you say? I know you may not want to but just know that I want to meet her. Or is it mom? If it’s her then I salute you dad. How did you meet with mum? She is so pretty; I can see it in her eyes. I need to know how I will approach my first girl. Teach me your ways dear master.
I know you don’t know how to play fifa. I can teach you that. I will teach you with all the patience in the world. It is quite easy, don’t worry. You just hold the pad, master the controls, have some skills and there you go. Or do you like football in the field? Did you play football back in the day? I would really love to see you play. We can join my friends for street football. I want to dribble past you and celebrate all over your face when I score. Who do you think is the GOAT: Messi or Ronaldo? For me it’s Messi, I would really like to know your GOAT!!!
I want to listen to music from your turntable. I love that turntable. I want to listen to your taste of music. I know you won’t like mine; dads never like them. Will I like yours? Imagine the two of us listening to some rhumba, I just guessed based on simple probability. The music calming our nerves, relieving our brains from the day’s trauma, our hearts merging with the symphony. I want to experience this magic with you.
Do these things dad. I do not care about how often you do them. Do it just once and I will never forget. When I’m asked to write an essay, I want my title to be, ‘The day I will never forget’, simply put, but truly, I will never forget!