Dad's Love

Growing up with my parents, I thought my dad was always harsh. As a child, I thought he wanted to punish me and my siblings for even the slightest misbehaving. It could as small as saying a word he doesn't like. Probably that's why I'm very cautious of what I say and not to offend anyone.

I recall, one Friday evening, my two younger siblings and I came home very late. Being raised in a Seventh-day Adventist home, we had this unwritten rule that every Friday after school we must get home quickly to help mum prepare for Saturday. This evening, we got caught up with other village boys hunting for small birds called Somoha in our Tokano vernacular. The fun filled part was during the dusk hours. That's when the small birds would perch on the soft pitpits called akapa and  huddle closer together for the night. The akapa, under the weight of the company of birds would lower to the ground and the birds become vulnerable and easy prey for us. We didn't want to miss this fun bit so we stayed on.

It was already dark when we headed home scared of dad. On our way, we started arguing in low tones whether we go home and meet dad or go to aunt's house. Being the elder, I had more experience with dad and knew him better. Whenever we do something wrong, he expected us to own up, so I said "let's go home or dad will be really angry". Although the youngest of us didn't agree, he listened to me and followed reluctantly. I led us home in a single file, my siblings right behind me taking every step in unison. As we walked in the dark silence of the chill highlands night, no one spoke a word. Our minds raced ahead contemplating what dad would do. Every turn was taken cautiously as dad is known for seeking us out.  

 At home dad was waiting for us. As soon as we arrived, he called us into the house. Our house was a typical highlands house - round house, enclosed by pitpit blinds, no windows except for a door. Since we lived close to Goroka town, we had access to electricity and fluorescent light in the house. We entered the house with heads bowed, facing down. No one dare look into dad's face in the light. He instructed us to sit beside the fire place as he prepared to proceed with another one of his discipline sessions.

This time, instead of the whip he opted to take another approach - sarcasm. He had a plate of food in his hand, picked up a chicken thigh from the plate, took a bite and said, "where is your food from all your work today? You did not help mum so she will not feed you. You can cook your birds and eat."
 We listened as he carried on. I was hungry so as my two small brothers. I felt sorry for them and I started to get angry as well. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up as he continued his sarcasm. He instructed me to sit down but I didn't listen. I opened the door and walked out angrily. He called after me, "smarty come back", as I stepped into the cold night outside. He's fond of calling me smarty during situations like this which I often dislike. Feeling so bitter for calling me smarty, I destroyed a new garden of taros we had outside. 

Without realizing, my two younger brothers followed me but not involved in the rampage attack of the taro garden. Dad could hear the sound of my rampaging and he came out yelling. His yell set me off running and my younger siblings followed after me. Being a mechanic, dad had a huge yard where he kept all kinds of vehicles. Some areas of the yard had overgrown bush. We ran straight for the area that had the overgrown bush, past all the vehicles. Dad came after us, followed by mum. They were both furious. I led my two brothers and we hid in the overgrown bushes. Dad and mum torched every vehicle and checked for us. We lay in the bushes very scared as we heard doors open and close. We lay in the bushes silently as our hearts pounded heavily. As they finished searching on one side of the yard, we got out of the shrub and went into one of the old buses that they just finished searching. They searched for us everywhere and couldn't locate us and thought we jumped the fence and escaped.

They went to aunts house and checked but we were not there. That night we slept outside in the cold night. The next day, we were the first at church. After church service, dad called us back and we reconciled.

This is one of many instances that I always thought my dad was such a harsh person. As I grew up, I realized that my childhood perceptions were not right. The moment, I first realized that he loved me was when I had to go far from home to a boarding school. It was a long journey from Goroka to Kainantu then Aiyura. After they helped me settle into my room, I came out to say goodbye and shook hands with my siblings, mum, cousins and friends from the village who came to leave me at Aiyura. And dad was the last one I had to farewell. As I approached him, I could figure out that he was lost for words. He had nothing to say. The look on his face was not the man I knew growing up. I could see that he was really sad as tears trickled down his cheek despite his effort to hold it back and he turned his face away from me.  It struck me then that he loved me and felt the pain of a father letting go of a son.   It broke my heart and left me speechless. I turned and ran back to my room as they drove out of the campus in our family's red Toyota Hiace Bus.

That evening I laid on my bed and thought about what I saw. It broke my heart. I couldn't stop crying silently. I thought hard about what I could do for all the love. I made a solemn promise that evening. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote on the piece of paper - " Daddy, I will always do my Best"

From that time on, I committed myself to academic excellence and trying to achieve the best result in what I do. Every time when I feel challenged and want to give up, I would get back to my room to read this passage. Each time I do that I get motivated to be the best I can be and never let down my dad. My two years at Aiyura passed on swiftly, years 2000 and 2001.

Looking back at my experience, whatever I thought was harsh and cruel was just the irony of love.