My father?
The man I hated the most while growing up.
My mom and dad met when he had nothing. And my pregnancy happened. He didn’t want me. He didn’t didnt have the finances for his family let alone another addition, a child. My mom insisted and kept me. The sun smiled on him and money began to flow.
As the first child ofcourse I lived like a princess. He used to fight with my mum and hit her. I didn’t like it. Until disaster struck and things began to go down the drain. The frustration led him to always use some words on me which I hated and it made me have depression, low self esteem and to feel less valuable.
Then he will say to my mum, “if she get belle before she finish school, i go throw una comot for my house”. My mum would reject it and I would cry and hate him more. But them no born any boy well make him even say him wan hug me for school because I didn’t want to bring shame to my mum and make my father’s words come to pass. I would cry so much at school, come home and act fine. “I would never be like my father to my kids. Infact, I would not marry any man who will act like my father or use words on me” (that is still one of my standards for marriage till now though)🤭.
My dad and I never got along but we have had times we danced together as father and daughter and I wished for those moments to last.
Then I grew into adulthood. The hatred did not reduce. But understanding came into place.
“My father wasn’t a bad person, he only didn’t grow in the midst of a loving father so he can’t give what he doesn’t have.”
I heard stories from my mum about his father and how my father’s dream of becoming a footballer was shattered because a nail pierced into his leg and he wasn’t treated and his father had all the money. And about how they would eat beans for months and use water and salt to eat Garri when their father was with other women. Also stories of how he dropped out of Jss 2 and as the first son and young boy work to take care of the family barefooted. There were many more stories that breaks my heart and make me to look at him with sympathy even when he begins to use those fowl words on me, I understand it is because he doesn’t know better.
He doesn’t know how to express his feeling of proudness. But I see it in his eyes whenever we talk now, or when I go on trips and he brags about me to his friends or in front of my mum.
I do not want my kids to go through what I did.
Though my father wasn’t one of the best fathers, not even half, but he didnt abandon me. He also loves and inspires me to work harder and not relent. He is not a lazy man. He doesn’t walk well but he goes out each day(he doesn’t have a job) and look for ways to make money for the house.
Though I am not making enough to help with the house situation and can only give the little I can for now, I vow to make him proud and give him all the good things of life.
He is alive and I pray that God keeps him for me🙏🏾
My father lost his mother before he was a year old and his father when he was nine. His education ended at Standard 3 yet I was born to a home with 4 complete sets of encyclopedias and every book by Jeffery Archer, Sidney Sheldon, Harold Robbin’s, James Hardly Chase etc. He spoke impeccable English and loved everything British. He believed so much in me and for some inexplicable reason believed I was far smarter than himself. He would never take anything that he didn’t work for. His belief in God’s goodness was legendary. His was a life well lived. I am everything I am today because of my father’s love.
I lost my dad in 2021 and only then did I realize all he instilled in me .
He was a retired officer so you can imagine he was very strict and an upright senior officer .
I remember once, an artisan came to work in the house and didn’t finish his job ,he came the following day and my dad locked him in the house brought soldiers to flog the hell out of him .That put a stern warning to others coming after him to work or not take the job at all.
He instilled in his children resilience ,doggedness and discipline where I was the first and his complete look alike . If there was a military university ,I’m sure he would have enrolled all his children because we all attended military primary and secondary schools .
I remember he never came for visiting Sundays ,that was my mother’s job and he would always leave you with a slogan ” your life is in your hands ” which till today rings in my head and have passed it onto my children .
No play play for church matter . He was a devoted Catholic who made sure early morning prayers was compulsory but as we grew older ,we started dodging the prayer time but paid dearly with plenty punishment during the day .. .
You made me think of my dad this morning .
Make I stop here before I’ll remember the day he died and start crying .😭.
May his soul continue to rest in glory .🙏🏾
Tessy Jibodu.
Wooow! My dad! Unforgettable!
That’s simply what I called him when he died 7yrs ago.
My dad David Babajide Olude was a father anyone could see as a friend, immediately you come in contact with him.
He is fun to be with at anytime. It is hard to tell if he ever had a problem but he sure did but never allowed the cares of the world or problems hold his happiness.
My father is a ‘Great Spender’ – he believes money is for spending, so when he has- he spends, but when he doesn’t he creates fun and happy moments around himself with his beer!
His Achilles’ heel was the mistake of Polygamy. That step finished my father! He realized it though but it was too late!
Despite being a polygamist he loved education and will do his best to make sure we go to school and the university, though he couldn’t foot the bills because he had too many children! So our mum’s had to carry their crosses!
Despite all the woes and difficulties some of us suffered! We still loved him! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 His philosophy on life may not be the best but it worked for us all in our journey of life!
Oseee baby! Was my icon- he lives in heart every moment! May his soul Continue to Rest In Peace 💕💕💕💕💕
So my dad well over 80 and last time I saw him on the 31st, Man was on his computer looking at his documentary treatment notes for a project he’s working on about the ocean surge in his beloved Ilaje community in Ondo state….PS, we need institutional funding ooo🤣🤣🤣🤣
My father, I grew up loving him with every single fibre of love in me. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the man till date but I just feel disappointed sometimes with his actions. He was my super hero you know. Back then, I won’t eat except I was eating with him, I did not want anyone to take me or pick up from school except he was the one, I did not want him to travel for work because it took months for him to come back. I mean, I was ready to do anything to see him smile and happy because that was my hero.
Growing up changed everything, every single thing but I still love him so much Duke. Sadly he is no longer my hero, I pray not to be like him most times and I get sad and sacred when my mum says I look and act like him sometimes. I grew up to find out that my father was always beating up my mother(s). Took a lot of persuasion and anger from we his children for him to stop. Also, the decisions he makes, the way he thinks makes me sad Duke. Plus, over the years, I got to remember some of the terrible things he said to me when I was young. Like his threat to kill me and dispose of me because he has other children. You don’t say that to a child who saw you as his hero, do you?
Depsite all these, my father inspires me a lot, he is brave, audacious, outspoken and can never allow anyone belittle him. He loves his family so much and no matter how angry he gets or flares up, he never turns his back on them and us. He is married to two wives Duke, and our home is filled with so much love and the word “Step” is a taboo in our home. I am mostly inspired by my father to always stand up for myself, to always be bold and go for what I want without fear. If it works out, great. If it does not, he always say, “learn from it and move on to the next.”
Aniefiok Essien Ufot-ekpo
My Dad was indomitable, never one to back down.
His life is one of grace. He always said oreofe ,it’s the grace of God. He came from poor background to one of prominence by grace, diligence and love for people.
I always hold to heart his care for his family, community and content life. A stickler for time, humorous and knowledgeable.
He drew deep into his faith in God. Dotted on his 14 grandchildren. His legacy of good name is indelible
Ha! I can write a book on my Dad, …with more to spare!
My Dad always stood for the truth, he never colored things, it had to be black or white.
I don’t need prize o!
…still plays a role, even in death!!!
My father was an upright man who opened his doors to giving joy to everyone in his immediate community. A man of benevolence. In the old maroko he was known as ‘Abule S’owo’, the cheerful giver. When he moved to Jakande Estate Lekki he solicited and was instrumental to securing NEPA light for the entire neglected estate and personally saw to the fixing of people’s electricity and electrical problems. I used to be his ladder boy. By the time he moved to the new maroko in Ajah he had transformed to the ‘Amuludun’ of Maroko. Translates to ‘He who brings Joy and happiness to the land’. He was a jolly good fellow who loved life and blessed others with his aura and presence. He provided music to all occasions in the hood and was there for everyone. His home was always filled with people and full of life. There was never silence in the house until he passed in 2016. God rest his soul.
Koffi Tha Guru
My father loved children. But he was very strict yet tender with children. Other people’s children. Especially poor children. He would call children of our neighbours who were very disadvantaged and give them money, food, whatever he had. My father was very generous. Till he died he never understood the value or concept of savings. My father was very proud of me. Being very brilliant and extremely outspoken like him. I remember my third year in university I had like four A’s in some of my courses and the rest were B+ he told every single person that walked through the door. Same thing he did when I was in secondary school. I had four A’s those A’s became 8 before the end of the summer break.
FOR DADDY
My earliest memories of Daddy were of him writing. He was always writing something; his next book, a research paper, a journal article, a speech, and he always wrote long hand (the typewriter became one of our toys). He was sometimes quiet but also quite vocal. He was also very bold and stood by his convictions. Daddy had a thick greying afro and he loved wearing his French suits and heeled shoes (as he wasn’t tall, lol), not forgetting his glasses which he always wore; he had piercing eyes.
When daddy was at home and he wasn’t writing, he was either reading, playing the piano, playing with my brother and I, or making us read out portions from one of his books, presentation style. “Chest out” he’d say, “speak clearly, repeat that again”. He didn’t care that I was just 5 and my brother was 3, we might as well have been adults! Daddy treated his sons as peers, he took us everywhere, even to “big people’s meetings”. A conversation he documented in one of his books was of him asking either my brother or myself of the meaning of politics, with the response being “politics is about the tricks of Polly the parrot”, hahaha! He never really expected us to have the right answers to the deep questions he often asked but he always expected a clearly thought out response. He would also expect us to question everything and never thought twice about us disagreeing with him, in fact he welcomed it.
Daddy was also very in tune with his emotions. He never failed to tell us he loved us and he was a hugger, even when we started resisting the hugs as we grew older, lol. I can’t remember calling him anything other than “daddy”. He wasn’t a traditional Nigerian father; I remember many friends being surprised that I could look him in the eye while speaking with him, even though he was over 40 years older than I was but he was quite strict as well! I remember many floggings and beatings, having to face the wall, and other punishments but he always made us understand it was all from a place of love.
Daddy was very cosmopolitan; well traveled, at ease with people of different tribes and cultures, very accommodating, and he knew a lot about many things. Aside from speaking Itsekiri, he also spoke French and understood basic Yoruba and Hausa. It was from him I first heard the word “Pan African”, as he often insisted he wasn’t just Nigerian but Pan- African. One also had the tendency of picking up new words just from being around him. He believed strongly in creating and documenting experiences; travelling to new locations home and abroad, recording home videos, attending concerts, speeches, art events, he was everywhere: he took us to our first Fela and Onyeka Onwenu concerts. He always bought books, and I remember when we were in primary school, he often took pride in boasting “my boys have read over 100 books!”
I often wondered why he did some of the things he did, like throwing a party for all the kids living on the street (even though we didn’t know most of them), keeping newspaper clippings, buying vinyl records, forcing us to drink cod liver oil, making fruit smoothies (yes we had those as kids but we never called it that), even writing. He lived the life he preached; he didn’t need to insist on integrity and honesty, he portrayed it. My mum always said he would always speak his mind irrespective of the consequences, lol.
Daddy loved gadgets and technology; it never even occurred to me until recently. He had a video camera, walk-man, MS- DOS computer, vinyl player, sandwich maker, all before these things were quite common… whatever that gadget was, he would get it. I can imagine him with an iphone now, probably even uploading pictures on instagram!
Daddy wasn’t religious but he was spiritual. He was open minded and believed in constantly seeking God. I remember when I decided to be Catholic in primary school (even though neither of my parents were Catholic), he had absolutely no issues with that… as long as it meant I was getting closer to God, it was fine. We would have many debates about faith and he would speak about many religions. He always said “Traditional Africans cannot believe they have direct access to God and that is why idol worship exists, even idolisation of religious leaders”. He understood that we could speak to God directly and always encouraged us to pray. He helped me understand what God’s relationship with us His children should be like.
I remember the last time I saw him. I’d come home briefly on holiday from uni and as I was leaving, we had one of our usual conversations. He spoke about achieving all he had ever wanted to do and I couldn’t help having an eerie feeling even though the conversation wasn’t unusual. He passed on two weeks later, 5 days after my birthday. I wept for days, weeks, months, and even now, when I remember him, tears well up in my eyes. Some people said “don’t cry, take it like a man” but my father taught me to be in tune with my emotions.
I’ve always wanted to write a tribute of some sort but never got round to it. This can’t even do justice but it’s a start. I remember him everyday. I wonder what he would think about Nigeria’s politics now, if he would have still been active. What would he think about politics in the rest of Africa? Trump? Brexit? The Middle East?
One never gets accustomed to a loved one’s passing, the pain never goes away. It’s 17 years today since he passed away but it might as well have been yesterday.
Thank you for everything, Daddy.
‘Gbubemi Atimomo
This article was originally published on www.oritsega.medium.com on 14 August 2017
In the bustling city of Port Harcourt, Nigeria, the towering oil rigs stood as a testament to the region’s rich petroleum industry. Amidst this industrial landscape, lived a young boy named Ndiana, whose father, Iboro Matthew, worked as an oil production engineer for a prominent energy company.
From a young age, Ndiana admired his father’s dedication to his work, often spending long hours at the oil refinery to ensure the smooth operation of the production facilities. Although Iboro’s demanding schedule meant that he was frequently away from home, Ndiana understood the importance of his father’s role in providing for their family and supporting the local community.
Despite his father’s absence, Ndiana found inspiration in the stories Iboro shared about the vital impact of the oil industry on the city’s economy and the technological advancements driving the extraction process. Ndiana’s fascination with his father’s work sparked a deep curiosity about engineering and innovation, leading him to dream of following in his father’s footsteps as an engineer.
As Ndiana grew older, he often accompanied his father on visits to the refinery, where he marveled at the complex machinery and the orchestrated coordination of the production operations. Iboro took pride in sharing his knowledge with his son, nurturing Ndiana’s passion for engineering and instilling in him a strong work ethic and commitment to excellence.
Despite the challenges of balancing his father’s demanding work schedule and family life, Ndiana’s admiration for his father’s dedication grew, and he cherished the moments they spent together, discussing the intricacies of oil production and the potential for technological innovation in the industry.
In time, Ndiana pursued his dreams of becoming a geologist at the University of Calabar, drawing inspiration from his father’s unwavering commitment to his work and the impact of the oil industry on their community. As Ndiana embarked on his own career in engineering, he carried with him the valuable lessons and guidance imparted by his father, Iboro Matthew, whose legacy as a dedicated oil production engineer continued to inspire and shape Ndiana’s aspirations for the future. Funny how today, I’m employed by a company that operates the same oil fields in Bayelsa that were commissioned by my father , and visited my myself and my siblings on holidays.
I had a great father. He was neat, simple, loving and a great disciplinarian.
He had a heart of gold. And was so caring. We grew up in a full house filled with many people and I thought we were all siblings. It was later I got to know they were cousins and members of the extended family. He treated everyone of them like his children .
He took particular interest in me. I was his Adiaha -his first daughter. He had had two sons before I came and when I arrived was raised as a fairy Princess. He always called me Mma Mbakara and also nicknamed me Mary Slessor, after the great Scottish missionary who stopped the killing of twins in the Calbar area.
My dad made a lot of sacrifices for us. If he really missed me while I was away in the boarding houe in school, he could show up at the principal’s office in the middle of the day wuth provisions and I would be summoned. He was charming and a a great PR guy who could worm his way into the heart of a strict principal of a girls secondary school.
He was a civil servant and not rich at all but he ensured we were comfortable even if it meant him running on an empty stomach. He was also a lay preacher of the Methodist Church.
My dad was in fact my best start in life.
He was my cheerleader and a wonderful encourager. He saw through me the way no one else did or does.
He it was who predicted the future that I’m living now. He always told me I would go places and I have!
We were kindred spirits. Our souls were intertwined in such a manner that I would take ill in school if he was ill.
Sadly, he passed on in 1996.
The day he passed at a private hospital in Calabar, no-one had the liver to inform me about his demise, knowing what a blow life had dealt me. Even when I called the Chief Medical Director, I was told he had been transferred to another hospital. Even my brother who was doing his NYSC at the Central Bank in Enugu ran and hid himself when he was told his sister in Lagos was on the line. Everyone feared for me. Truth is I didn’t even need anyone to break the sad news because I already felt it.
The previous night. There was a bad thunderstorm around the apartment where I was staying. Then I heard a loud knock in the middle of the night. The knock was hurried and brief and when I checked, there was no one. He probably had come to bid me goodbye from the earthly realm before being ushered in a blaze of Glory to heaven to rest in the bosom of his maker. I became very weak thereafter. I felt something important had left my life, hence my call to the hospital to check up on him.
Thereafter, My doctor said I needed to take things easy as I had developed hypertension and I was only in my middle twenties and not even married.
These days I see more of my dad when I look in the mirror. I’ve also got older, you know . And that is quite comforting.
We honour his memory every February 10th, either with a home memorial service or just sitting and telling our children about the great grandfather that they didn’t get to meet.
It is well!
Atim Nkese Nkpubre
It was a Sunday morning the first in August, Thanksgiving in RCCG and my family and I were
Preparing to attend church service, meanwhile my father had been hospitalized for some days and something came upon me and I told my wife to go ahead to church without me that I need to go and see my dad.
When they left I undressed and started preparing to go and see my dad in the hospital- but before I left the house I cried in my room alone like never before, I later left to the hospital to see him.
On reaching the hospital, he has been in coma after his operation and asked all my cousins and siblings staying with him to go home that I will be with him till he recovers..
At midnight of Sunday into Monday morning the Doctors called me to seek Permission to remove him from life support – my dad was not coming back to life !
I gave a final salute as they package his remains to the morgue.
My dad was in the Military where you expect a certain level of toxicity and narcissism – as we see growing up in the barracks – not my dad, never saw my mum and dad fight and we could count the number of times he beat us.Not saying he wasn’t discipline, but he did it with love.
Imagine when he passed, I could not tell my wife for days because she loved him dearly…
When my wife finished writing her commendations when we were developing the burial pamphlet, I could not write anything -she wrote it all.
Since 2017 when he died till date, no week passes without a mention of him in my household.
He truly lived up to one of his Nick names “The civilian Major”
My Father- My first God experience.
So writing about a mortal man in this description of an immortal being is overly sensitive and not the usual.
But really how do you describe or talk about a man in whose eyes you saw God or knew now how to even worship him deeper and better.
A man who fits in many and all kinds of definition, that we all tried to unravel, an embodiment of great potential.
He willed absolute power, authority and was able in his own charisma command respect for himself
He was good with his diction and English for an ibibio man even though from a well known family in a small village his parents really didn’t have much…. Only stories of Greatness of ancestors which didn’t translate to riches but of treachery, wickedness, usurpation and annihilation.
No wonder he wanted more in live to surround himself with more children just to have people to cover him and find love in the fullest
My father was smart, intelligent and full of wisdom, for a man who could manage his wives under same roof, with them giving him so much loyalty, submission, reverence and love unconditionally.
He struggled all his life to live well, school himself, care for his children and immediate relatives at the detriment of his own all he had just to build a family that was destroyed by hate ….this part blow my mind as a child.
He wasn’t extravagant, by was stylish, poised, reserved and very neat, tidy and put together.
He didn’t smile much but when he did he had a beautiful one… A man women wanted to have and be with, for many other reasons.
He was a disciplinarian, a no nonsense man but had the a heart that was very thoughtful, nice and soft… An irony I can’t explain because my father could cry so easily for very simple things… So how I know it was a cover up for his weakness as a man with so much struggles and expectations but very little resources to carry his big dreams.. but never daring enough to strike and take risk… contentment in little was his watchword, not wanting to soil his hands even when opportunities dropped on his feet as long as it wasn’t straight it wasn’t good.
So I started with my father my first God experience because though he wasn’t a church going individual but he loved God, could pray and had his quiet devotional time with himself and family… No one dare to be home on a church service day… Hmmm an abomination
I heard he stayed away because he was a polygamist and the church wouldn’t let him, so he chose his family not to break any rather than gather with men would didn’t give him a chance and wouldn’t feel his pain or hear his heart yearn for more as an only Son of a lineage that was going extinct in his eyes
He had more daughters that made him in his craving to have more had one more and named him IDONGESIT (comfort my heart) literal translation. Then among whom he named after his father and another after his grandfathers that he only heard about but never could find a trace.
The relationship and knowing my father gave me understanding, knowledge and experience to being in God’s presence, the adoration, submission, obedience, reverence, humility etc and above all love for God beyond just words. He was the first god that I saw, so he made it easy for me to transfer my earthly relationship with my father to my Heavenly farher and be able to resonate and feel the holyspirit.
He was called the British man Obong Rudson in his last days as a retired man that became a well known hotelier in ikot Ekpene where he went back to settle his life but died thereafter.
I miss him so much because he thought us good, he thought us well
Hmmm.. just a part of him
Carolyn UMO-ETUK SMITH
My late Father Arc Simeon Dehinde Adeyinka is gone now but his memory lives on he was my best friend and i was his son of old age we will chat for hours and hours and his insight on issues was quite golden he sacrificed his last penny for me a sterling truth was when i was writing common entrance exam i forgot a form at home and him despite been old took a bike home to ensure i sat for the exam he is the best
That tall, handsome, fearless, and funny man. I could go on and on about my father. Though he wasn’t perfect, he was funny, lively, and smart.
Omo Eko was his nickname. He loved life and women to a fault. It had ripple refect on his home but one thing was sure, don’t come for us oo. He will lead the pack to face you regardless of who you are
He would even encourage you to look for the persons trouble. He was fearless.
I would say without mincing words that I love my dad more.
I miss him oo. Sometimes, I even wish he was alive to help me bully the Duke 🫣.
Sleep on, dad.
I love you.
UNFORGETTABLE
Wooow! My dad! Unforgettable!
That’s simply what I called him when he died 7yrs ago.
My dad David Babajide Olude was a father anyone could see as a friend, immediately you come in contact with him.
He is fun to be with at anytime. It is hard to tell if he ever had a problem but he sure did but never allowed the cares of the world or problems hold his happiness.
My father is a ‘Great Spender’ – he believes money is for spending, so when he has- he spends, but when he doesn’t he creates fun and happy moments around himself with his beer!
His Achilles’ heel was the mistake of Polygamy. That step finished my father! He realized it though but it was too late!
Despite being a polygamist he loved education and will do his best to make sure we go to school and the university, though he couldn’t foot the bills because he had too many children! So our mum’s had to carry their crosses!
Despite all the woes and difficulties some of us suffered! We still loved him!
His philosophy on life may not be the best but it worked for us all in our journey of life!
Oseee baby! Was my icon- he lives in heart every moment! May his soul Continue to Rest In Peace 💕💕💕💕💕
Opeyemi Edwards