An Ode To An Absent Father


She was once a little girl,
before she grew into the woman she’s become.

She’s always longed for him to be in all her childhood memories.
But he chose to be a personal definition of abondonment instead.

He was the first man to have ever been that enveloped, deep inside her heart.
But he didn’t have to be the first to teach her how to bleed from the inside out.

She eventually let go of the father she yearned for him to become.

His rejection, the constant evidence that he was incapable of even staggering into fatherhood.

She finally stitched up all the wounds of an absent father.

He was no superhero, she realized.
Those quiet nights of day dreaming had to be archived.

Surely he would never come for her … of this one thing she was certain.
He’d never be the one buying the shoes she needed for every-new school year.

She soon found out that the man she resembled was only made up of shortcomings.

Not a single one of her heartbreaking letters ever beckoning him to her.

She taught herself to wear folded newspaper at the sole of her shoes,
to help cover up all the holes.

But sadly that didn’t help much on rainy days.

But she’s bigger now.
She understands that there are no excuses that can be made for two decade old absence.

She no longer wondered what her mother had done him wrong.
Besides that only led to everything else she’s done better than him.

All the boys that break her heart, don’t answer to anyone.
Because he was the first to teach her how young hearts break.

She survives without his firm grip, failing to catch her every time she misses a step.

She’s made peace with the missing parts of him in her story.

And when dark nights squeeze her real tight,
her sorrow has to fill the pages of her journals with ink.

Cover Photo By: Lutendo Malatji

What would your lamentations to an absent father be? 

19 thoughts on “An Ode To An Absent Father

  1. Pingback: Why She Writes | Sinawo Bukani

  2. Pingback: 10 Reasons Why Single Is The New Black – Sinawo Bukani

  3. There is great intellect in all ur writings you can pass the message through easily..with just few words..keep writing and follow in the steps of reknowned writers like Chinua Achebe , Wole Sonyika and many others..keep writing im inspired by your writing.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. One day I was driving home with my father, playing Nathi – a cd, the Buyel’ekhaya started playing… me and my dad were both quiet… as he listened to the song… I heard him say… “But why don’t you go back home Tata”?

    At that moment, I tried to picture how my life would have been with an absent father, the thought were scary, really scary given that my mother didn’t really get me growing up, yet my father did… my mother couldn’t keep up with my weirdness and my father encouraged it.

    That day I learnt how we take for granted certain things. Reading your post now, I just shed a tear, for you and my lost child whose father wanted nothing to do with her….

    Liked by 1 person

    • I am so sorry for your child Marutla, truly am … I always say absent fathers tell us a lot about the fathers they would be, maybe this is how I console myself but I believe I am better off. Fathers are absent even when you live with them in the same household sometimes … I know that song very well, when I listened to it, I wondered if it was just a song or he really had a strained relationship with his father … Mothers are the worst with getting anyone hey, I don’t think it’s in their job description because I have to handle my own weirdness all by myself hahahahaha Appreciate your dad and the special relationship you have with him … Thank you for sharing with me…


  5. wow this…… I may or may not have teared up a lil anyway I was cutting onions for lunch thats my story and I am sticking to it….
    Sending electronic hugs… hope you dont get electrocuted or anything {hugs}
    the drawings are a cute touch so childlike

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh thank you for the electrifying hugs, felt them al the way in SA beside Eskom’s load shedding!!!

      😂😂😂 okay I believe you about them onions … Yes the drawings were actually influenced by a post on AfroBloggers to be creative, their significance really is the child in the grown woman that has been waiting. Another post that started as one thing and ended up being something else, our words take us places we didn’t even know existed.

      Thank you 💝

      Liked by 1 person

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