VALUES: PRICELESS LESSONS FROM MY FATHER

My dad was a great man. I did not know that when he was still alive. So I never got to say "thank you" to him. I'm writing this article so that you don't do the same. And that you don't miss priceless momments with your children.

Daddy, the education fanatic

I've observed that my father made sure he spent time with me and my little brother before he passed on. He made observations of the things that we both loved and encouraged us on them. I loved reading. He being uneducated, made efforts to participate in my school's homeworks by sitting with me while I do them even though at that time I didn't understand why would he want to watch me do the homework if he does not offer to help out! Now I know that is the best he knew how; to be present. He would comment on how the teachers have placed the right ticks and wrong marks on the excercise and test books, the bigger the ticks looked, the bigger the complement I got, the bigger the "wrong mark" looked, the harsher the comments from him.

Daddy, the Fisher man 

I still think of those precious moments and they make me smile. One incident that I recall really well was when he came back from fishing the other weekend. Well. The sad thing is he never took me with, so I never learned how to catch a fish using a hook. But when he came back he would give me and my younger brother the big fish to clean up and prepare it for mama to cook it for dinner. He would talk about how he struggled to get the big fish out of the water, sometimes he had to fall into the dam while trying to pull it and swim in the dangerous  waters. At times he had to let go in order to remain safe. Sometimes he could not catch the big fish. He often came  home with funny  small,  difficult to cook, difficult to each fish. But he never came home empty handed. It's either he would bring fish or wild meat. Writing this makes me miss his presence and bad river water smell.

Each fishing trip came with its own fun stories and we loved listening to him. I had good times with my father. I did not always look forward to him being around becaue it meant strickthat behaviour, talk in certain way, bath in the cold nights even when mama would let go, he did not. We had to be home at certain time. If not, we had to give good explanations which he was not really interesting in listening to because we would have disobeyed him anyway. Many other kids my age did not have what I had. They had money, good toys, great clothes,  bicycles and many other good kiddy staff. I had the present father. Their fathers were far in the big cities trying to earn a living for them, and never wory about their relationship. At the end, the families and children of these career focused men and women became casualties of their personal father's personal success.

Daddy, the backhouse farmer

One other thing I really cherish was when  he thought me to grow onions, tomatoes, potatoes, spinach, sugar cane and mango trees. I must say I hated every momment of working in his garden. Everyday when I came back from school I had to work in the mad; either watering the garden or removing weed. Whe  other kids went to play soccer in the streets in was subjected to home farming.

Even though I hated this farming, I loved watching the tomato trees grow. I even loved the onion and tomato stew he made. I still can't make like he did. It was still on special, creamy and delicious. Man, I wish I could duplicate it for my wife now, unfortunately he left with the recepy undocumented.

When I look back, I realise that sometimes being childish can make you miss valuable opportunities. I have the skills to grow my own vegetables that I got from him. But I did not have the patience to work in his farm. I remember after planting the potatoes, I would literally dig the roots more than once per week to see how far than he potatoes have grown. I know now than he hath it was bad farming practice. You need to learn to watch things grow wothouthe tempering with their environment. I believe he wanted me to learn patience. He also wanted me to learn to survive in my own and provide for my family. For that, I am truly greatefull.

Gift of the presence 

In 1996,  my mom came back from "joburg" to collect me from my grandmother's house where I stayed before daddy could afford to stay with us full time.  I recall her saying "your father wants you to come stay with him in Gauteng. He says he wants all his children around him." For me the excitement was not staying with my father, but it was the thought of being in the big city. I did not know that we're going to stay in the informal settlements of Tembisa. I was excited that I would be able to tell other kids about my "city life". To know what happened go me there, get my book RELENTLESS YOUTH-reaching beyond the limit. It's an experience in would not trade for anything.

Looking back 14 years after he passed on, I realised that the best gift a father could give to his son was not just formal education, money, houses but values of fatherhood transferred through being present. Values can live longer, be transferred from one generation to another. They can be usecured to help one generate all the other tangible gifts that a father could have given. My father gave me that. He was not an angel, but he gave more than money could buy.

Now I know that no matter how educated I can be, no matter how educated I may want my children to be, the best thing I can do for them is to be with them when they need me and when they don't know that they need me. It is called the gift of the presence. It cannot be replaced by money, education, gifts, cars, or anything else for that matter. We may not know the impact of the gift of the presense in our children, but trust me, it goes a long way deeper than anything the world can offer.

Today people live busy lives. They have appointed nannies and teachers to raise their children. Parents miss precious early childhood develoment moments that cannot be repeated and felt through a movie. Precious times such as when a child learns to walk the first time. When he learns his first word, his first day at school, his/her first crush, all those silly little things count for more than a million doller deal.

It is ok to get big contracts, but what did you give your child? It is ok to work, we all have to do that. But you need to ask yourself,  whose values are the children adopting as they grow, yours or that of society and school teachers?

We have put education so far ahead of everything that we send our children to boarding schools to be raised, corrected and moulded by educators and caretakers whose values we do not know and may not fit that which we wish for our children. We then guts to cry when the children value what they learned in the streets and call it "current society that corrupted my children." Let me submit the truth to you it is, you corrupted your children by handing them over to strangers. Charity begins at home. I thank my father for teaching me a thing or two. What will your children say about you when they grow up to have children of their own?