Kuwe Dewa

Hey daddy

I hope you’re reading this from Heaven. Even though I feel like you deserve. Hell fire. You know. You reap what you sow? Anyway, your grandson, Amani is all grown now. He has your nose. He loves Peppa pig. He still can’t pronounce his full name. He loves jelly babies and bananas. And. Oh my gosh, you never warned me that potty training is such a nightmare.

I know he will ask about you someday. I wish he doesn’t. I don’t want to be the one to tell him I wish you were home more. I wish you had put work after us. I wish you had danced more with mum. It made her happy. I wish you had told us you love us. And meant it. I wish you hadn’t made me choose between you and mom. Children are not supposed to choose one parent over another. I needed the both of you.

I wish you had fought for us. Fought to raise us in a warm home. Fought to give us only the best. Fought for us to see through you and hold your hand through this journey. Fought to see us through school. Fought to stay alive and rewrite our story. You took the easy way out. As always. I wish you had kept your promises. And came through for us when we needed you the most. I wish you had taken walks with me. Taught me real life lessons. I wish you had encouraged me to go after what I love. Hard. I wish you had kept your vows. You know. Till death do us part? I wish you had respected me. If not as your daughter. As a human atleast.

I don’t want to be the one to tell him his mama is a broken little girl trying to right the wrongs of those who walked before her. I don’t want to be the one to tell him I would walk on mum crying and she would quickly wipe her tears and send me to get her a glass of water. An excuse so she could compose herself and act like everything is alright. I don’t want to be the one to tell him I used to watch you yell at her. And I couldn’t do nothing about it. I hate myself for it. I don’t want to be the one to tell him I have felt useless half my life. Because? Respect your father and mother? Nomatter how many pins they stick in your eyes?

I don’t want to be the one to tell him that after your fall out with her, you turned your back on your children too daddy. I thought I was your little princess daddy. I don’t want to be the one to tell him of how unbearable the pain of growing up as if you don’t have a father is, when you actually have one. I don’t want to be the one to tell him I’m raising him with the fear that one day he might turn out like you. The burdens you left on my shoulders are too heavy to carry daddy. I wish you had done better. I pray he doesn’t turn out like you. I pray the destructive cycle ends here.

Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;) That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth. And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

Ephesians 6:2-4

I know I didn’t say it enough. Well. The circumstances you raised me under didn’t allow me to. I love you Moyo. It’s not easy but I am learning to let go Dewa. Sayi. Vumabalanda. I forgive you. Continue resting in power.

Your favourite baby who is a mother now, umakaAmani

uLwandle