Opinion article by Duke of Shomolu, Joseph Edgar
Yes, that is what my children call me except Alvin. His mother refused blatantly. She was old school and didn’t understand why my son would call me Joe.
She was brought up in Ibadan and had the Yoruba ethos. It had to be Daddy or Baba mi. One thing that has helped me with the many women in my life is my ability to choose my battles.
So, if Mena wanted Alvin to call me Bashorun GA, so be it. But the other kids called me Joe and I loved it.
They love calling me Joe and it speaks to the freedom I want to bring them up in.
I was brought up like a prisoner. With no basic rights. I couldn’t even decide for myself when to cut my hair. Every decision was made for me. When to eat, when to bathe and when to go to the toilet. It got worse in secondary school.
They sent me to a pseudo military schools and those ones ruled with roll call. You signed for everything. Signed to go and eat. Signed to go and shit. Signed to play football, signed to go to school and when you received rejection from a girl, you will still go and sign.
I failed spectacularly. I failed in form four and was kicked out. But a year later I passed my WAEC with 3 A’s and gained admission to University of Ibadan.
What was the difference? Freedom. I had won my freedom from my father. It wasn’t easy. I suffer pass Mandela. The beating, the humiliation and the derision I took so that I could retain the right to cut my hair when I wanted to and to choose the barber instead of the old barber near Shomolu market who will cut our hair and give us sweets .
When I gained my freedom, I ran mad. I did everything I could possibly do to catch up. I had s3x like a lunatic, tried to drink but was too bitter and did everything else.
So, now I’m a father and will not spend the kinds of monies I am spending on school fees only to come and be trying to limit the minds that these young adults have.
Annette just graduated from High school and a quick math shows that I must have spent about N20m in the six years she was in secondary school.
So, for me not to allow her to fly and be whatever she wants to be with limited guidance is to say the least unproductive
I will allow her choose her path but draw a line she can’t go below- prostitution, crimes, drugs and allied things.
But if she wants to have s3x at 16 and is comfortable with it and understands the far reaching implications, it’s her decision. If she decides to get pregnant before University? Her decision.
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If she wants to go cut off all of her hair and pierce her nipples – wetin concern me.
My daughter Chantal is mad. The other day she called from a Tattoo parlor and says – Joe, I want to pierce my upper lips. I say have you thought about lead poisoning? Why not tattoo my name on your back? It’s safer.
She says No. I say ok. Go ahead. Now she is in the UK, if I say NO. How will I enforce that and if I lose that trust, she won’t tell me next time thereby losing the opportunity to be part of her processes.
My first son is a story in rebellion. He is an artist and dresses weirdly. I love his style and really do envy him. From his hair to his clothes and carriage. He is now sporting two big earrings and looks like Wizkid.
His first girlfriend was Colombian. I say no problem but remember when you tell a Nigerian girl, I will slap you. It’s not the same meaning as when you tell a Colombian American.
That was the only advice I gave him and he went ahead and on his own he ran away.
So for me, I treat my kids as young adults. I watch them do stuff. Things my father would never have let me do, hence my rebellion but today I am not facing any civil war because I have come to the realization that these people are young adults with a better grasp of life than I had at their age.
Am I a good father? I doubt it. But do I care? NO because for me, the children must have their basic freedoms otherwise why spend so much on education and exposure only to now want to limit their mind and push them back into the dark ages of my youth.
My thoughts.
*Duke of Shomolu*
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