A university professor, church leader, and devoted family man, Prof. JAM is what every African father is—stern, caring, and a pillar of wisdom and discipline.
His birthday is a few weeks away, so I thought I’d share some of the lessons I’ve learnt from him along the way.
1. Train Your Buttocks
We would gather for prayers in our living room on Friday evenings. Every Friday.
It was a modest home, but it served us well. This sometimes extended to other days of the week, but Friday was compulsory.
After a few praise and worship songs, we’d spend hours studying the Bible, reading through scriptures, and comparing different versions.
More often than not, after hours of research, we would grumble about being tired and wanting to end the session.
Before letting us go, father would remind us to train our buttocks– to learn how to sit down and work on something for a prolonged period.
Years later, this is a lesson that has stuck with me. More importantly, it’s one that has helped me in my work. As a blogger, I find no problem sitting down for hours to write. I have been doing it since I was young.
2. Don’t Gamble With Education
My old man is so learned he didn’t apply for jobs; jobs were offered to him. It sounds made up, but it is true.
After retirement, I went through his 18-page resume and understood why. He has Master’s and PhD degrees in Mathematical Statistics and advanced diplomas in five courses taken in four different countries. In other words, he is well learned.
To date, I’ve never related to people who cry at their graduation. In our home, this was basic sh!t. We all knew we’d go to college. It was guaranteed.
After completing my undergraduate studies, I asked my father whether he’d attend my graduation. He stopped reading, looked at me, amused with his glasses slightly lowered, and said,
“Call me when you are done with your PhD.”
3. Put God in Everything
Like his father, my dad won’t leave us any wealth to inherit. He made this very clear. During one of our Bible studies, he told us,
“My father left me with two things. And it’s these two things that I will leave you with after I’m gone. Education and God.”
I owe my little religious side to my dad. He puts God in everything he does, whether eating, going out, or working on a project. To him, it’s not worth doing if God is not involved.
4. Share The Little You Have
My father is too generous to be rich. It’s one quality my brother jokes he doesn’t wish to emulate, at least not to the old man’s extent.
I’ve also heard mother complain. She would occasionally meet a friend of my dad’s who would gravely thank her for a generous contribution from my father—a contribution she had no idea about.
At times, it would be paying for their kid’s school fees, and other times, he would give food or other household supplies.
My dad shares everything he has, almost always prioritizing the needs of others over his own. It’s a quality that has prevented him from attaining his financial success.
He is a terrible investor, but that’s one thing he doesn’t seem to regret. He is always happy to help.
Service to others is the rent we pay for our space on Earth.
5. Efficiency!
My father repeatedly tells us a story about his colleague.
One night, after a heavy drinking spree, the friend was on his way home when a group of robbers confronted him. They grabbed him and, in a sudden move, tossed him into the air.
The last thing he remembers is being airborne one moment and hitting the ground the next. One second, he was fully dressed; the next, half his clothes were gone.
Each robber had a specific task. One yanked off his shoes, another snatched his watch, and a third pulled down his pants.
The next day, the friend came to work, muttering, “Efficiency! Efficiency!”
Now, he wasn’t angry that the robbers mugged him. He wasn’t even mad that they left him half-naked. He was only amused at how efficient they were at their job.
If only we were as efficient and committed in everything we did, like the robbers, maybe, just maybe, we would achieve more.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I aspire to have a family someday. I don’t know what kind of a father I’ll be, but I know what kind of a father I want to be—my father.
