In the age of migration, illness and rising divorce rate, many young men grow up without a father figure. Takudzwa Masvaure pays homage his late father on the 25th anniversary of his death.
It’s been 25 years since you left. I never knew you, memories of you are blurred if any. I don’t know whether to say I love you or I hate you, but I do know that I miss you so much.
What I missed out on
I don’t know if you’d be proud of me now but I do know I may have achieved much more if you were around. No one taught me how to kick a ball, no one taught me how to do the complex long division and no one taught me how to behave around women. I had to learn how to be a man from movie characters, not sure if that’s going to help me in any way.
I wish I had a father
Often I see grown men getting help from their dads and I get jealous. But I shouldn’t because I know that’s what fathers should do; help their sons out. Life really screws me up at times but I have no one to tell, no one to ask help from. The world is often cruel to me and I let it slide. I am afraid that one day I am going to blow out over the simplest thing.
I am mad because other boys had fathers, you grew up, got married and your father was around. Right now I am afraid of starting a family because I wouldn’t want to leave them like you did. Should I be mad at you? At God? At Satan? At the universe?
Am I being a sissy for complaining so much, considering you also left 5-month infant and a 7-year-old son too? Whatever the case is, I think I am entitled to any opinion.
I know there is no way you’ll read this but it’s the thought that counts, right?
This article first appeared on Takudzwa Masvaure’s blog The Wordsmith