So, my dad is 70 today, and I am all shades of thankful for
his life, health, and presence of mind. He's been insisting he doesn't
want a party, and thanks to Covid- 19, none can happen anyway, so he gets his
wish. However, I always want to give him his beautiful roses while he can smell
them, so I am writing this. I have shared a little bit about him here and here. I may read this note to him too.
My dad is the most amazing father ever. I honestly couldn't
have asked for better. He is incredible plus amazing plus all those great
words you can think of. One of my earliest memories of my dad is holding his little
finger while he walked me to my kindergarten class because that was the only
finger I could grab. The rest were too big. I remember that I
could catch the last two (the little finger and the ring finger) after a while. He has always been
a very present father.
I also remember he used to keep an afro back in
the day, and my sisters and I would endlessly try to braid his hair. It must have been painful thinking about it now, but he never flinched or complained.
Not once. He would sit there patiently while we did our thing.
Sometimes, I would tire and lay on his lap, and he'd play with my scanty
hair till I slept. That patience still blows my mind.
So back story, I am the last of 4 kids, and I was
an, erm, interesting child. I was indulged (not spoiled). Some of my political
detractors might try to say I was naughty, but we know they're just trying to
ruin my political career, so what do we say to them? Not Today. I remember a
new year's Eve when my mom found a box of all my dirty clothes. I was 8 or 9.
If I spilt water on my clothes, I would take them off and wear something new.
So, when my mom found those clothes, she basically told me those clothes better
not get into the new year dirty, and brethren, I didn't even know how to wash. I
knew I was in significant trouble. There was no way I could bribe my siblings for
help. So, when my mom went out, my dad and I carried all those clothes downstairs
and washed them. Well, he washed them, but I kept him company with my chatter.
Safe to say, all my clothes were sparkling clean into the new year. That is my
dad. Peacekeeper extraordinaire. Ever ready with solutions.
My mother is convinced he didn't have kids in
his past life. My mom will always say, "Oo bimo n'ijoun", meaning, "You didn't have kids in your past life", or "O le ke'kan, ko di meji",which roughly
translates to "You cannot pamper one and turn that one into two", or "Eyin le
r'omo ri, omo po n'ile tiwa" meaning "It is you who don't have kids in your
house, kids abound in our own house". I don't know if there's anything called
too much love, but my dad definitely fits the description. His kind of love is
very present. You will never be in any doubt about how he feels. Never. He's that
amazing. He has always been there for us at every little point and milestone.
My dad would rather
lecture than beat you when you get into trouble. Whenever my mom smacked us, he would grumble and
walk around the house, registering his displeasure. I remember him smacking me
twice and shaking me once, which is incredible considering how much of a
handful I was. The day he shook me (this is an interesting story), he apologized.
I was that child that got everything she wanted.
I wanted it, I asked my dad, and he would try his best to get it for me. It
seemed he was wound tightly around my little finger. Even when my siblings needed him to do stuff, they sent me. I, with no inhibitions and a big mouth, would
just go demanding. My dad is not this way because I am his last born (although
last-born privileges are real). He is the same with all his kids. He loves us
individually, the same way he raised us; as individuals. He would always joke that
he had to indulge me because he had not seen any other child since my birth year, and
my mother would roll her eyes, lol. This man would go to work conferences or meetings and keep
snacks or whatever he was served in his pockets lool. He did this well into my
twenties. I love my dad, and I pray God keeps him for me. He deserves everything
fantastic in this world.
The few times I attended after-school lessons in
primary school, he would come from work (about 30 mins from school), take us
(my sister and I) to eat lunch, and drop us at the lesson (which was literally
across the road from my school). At the end of every school day, he always had snacks in the car. He was there for every visiting day in high school. He always
showed up. Thinking about that consistent energy leaves me so profoundly grateful.
He did everything so I would not go to boarding
school as the last born, but I wasn't having it. I spent a couple of weeks in a day school before resuming at a boarding. While I was at the day school, he would pick
me up. There was a day he couldn't pick me up because he had a
meeting, so he gave me money for Public Transportation (P.T.). There was a clause, though; he told me not to leave school before a specific time (because he would try to get away from the meeting). I had a close family friend who was
an only child at the time and would use P.T. I always wanted to try P.T., so I was
excited to try too. Of course, I didn't listen to the instructions and left with my
friend as soon as the closing bells rang. He could get away from the
meeting and had gone searching for me in school. Of course, I wasn't there because I was having the time of my life in a P.T. My dad got home before I did.
I remember when I was in SS2 and had no
Economics note. The proper thing would have been to borrow someone's note so I
could copy it during the holidays, right? Not Toin. When my dad asked me (in
preparation for SSCE), I simply told him I did not have one. He then went to
see a family friend of ours who had a daughter that was my classmate; he got her
note, bought a new note, and took it to work every day…till he copied every
page. His friends would poke fun at him, but he never wavered. He never even
made me feel like I was a problem. He never transferred aggression. Never let
on how worried he was about my education. Never compared myself to my siblings. Never
showed his fear even when he must have been terrified. A solid force behind
every dream. No pressure, just full-on support. Ah, if I have a child like me,
I pray to God I can extend the same grace. I can tell you for free that
there is no way I am copying any notes. Period. I really should have laminated
that note.
When I got to University, my dad would visit
every Wednesday, and my mom would come with him every Sunday. I wasn't alone (my immediate older sister was a year ahead of me), but my parents would
always visit. After so many complaints during my first year, they reduced it to
once a week, till I graduated. Every single week for four years. My university
was not even in the same state that we resided in. That consistent energy. If
there is one thing I know for a fact, it is that my parents would go to war for
me. I remember my cousin telling me one time that my dad wasn't the norm, and I
just didn't understand what he meant. I do now.
A few years ago, I was speaking with my dad,
when he mentioned how terrified he was for my education. He already figured
there was no way I was getting into a university, so all he prayed for was 5
credits so I could go to a polytechnic (tears). I wasn't dull. I was just not
interested much in school or applying myself at the time. If anyone
had told him I would have a master's, let alone a PhD, I'm pretty sure he would
have choked 😭😭
Everyone who knows me knows my dad. I assure you
that if you're my friend but have never met my dad, and my father doesn't know you,
we're not that close. I remember him asking me one time if I had heard from
Helen. I tried my darnest to remember who that was before he gave me her full
government name. Helen is the middle name of my high school best friend. My
father remembers the middle names of my friends.
My dad is the best storyteller I know. I always
wondered why he didn't consider lecturing full-time. He told me the best
version of the Awolowo/Akintola Action Group crisis. I am always envious of his
friendships, most of which are well over 40 years, way before I was born. He is
a major foodie and a great cook. It makes my soul happy to see him with his
grandkids. I'm always screaming at my nieces and nephew when they climb on his
neck to leave my daddy alone for me. He loves it, though. That's what gives him
joy. This is why I always pray for joy unending for him. I pray for health and
joy. He has been blessed with 70 amazing years on this earth. I love him, flaws
and all.
I pray that God, in
his infinite mercy and wisdom, will crown him with more peace, wealth, more
love, joy overflowing, and unbridled happiness. He deserves every single
accolade he can get. I wish him the most amazing and healthy year as he
crosses the 70 milestone. If I can do half of what my dad has done for my siblings and me, I would be considered outstanding. The bar is literally in
the skies. I hope I never take your love, presence, and lessons for granted,
Daddy. You are the epitome of selfless love. Nothing is ever inconvenient when
it comes to your kids. I appreciate all that you are and all you have done and continue to
do to bless our lives. Love you always, Daddy.
Your baby girl.
Toin
P.S.: Seventy is
huge, people! Please say a prayer for him *kisses*
