In a council flat somewhere in a Borough of London, United Kingdom, a heartrending conversation took place.
“No, I do not want to see my father at my wedding. It is my wedding and not his. My British husband, Ethan, and I have agreed that only 25 guests will attend our wedding. You, as my mother, will walk me down the aisle. Chizua, my only brother, will be the witness for the family.
“I have invited some of my colleagues at work and some members of Ethan’s family, especially his parents. The 25 of us are all we need. This is what my husband and I want on our big day. I expect that our humble opinion should be respected at this point,” Nelly declared, with a tone of finality, and a painful throb in her heart.
For a long pause, the air in the room, where Mrs Rita Ojomoh and her two children were huddled to discuss the arrangements for Nelly’s forthcoming wedding hung, thick and silent.
Then Nelly’s elder brother, Chizua, cleared his throat and said: “Nelly, agreed that we now reside in the UK without our father, and where our lives have been transformed, but do not forget we are still Africans. In the African setting, the young cannot marry without their father’s consent, be it a son or a daughter.”
Nelly didn’t let him finish his remark as she cut in sharply, almost rudely: “Consent my foot. Where was he when mother went through hell to make sure you and I got the best? Where was he when my classmates in Surulere, Lagos, when we were still in Lagos asked me about my father. His absence in my life is not just a personal wound. It is a generational legacy. It has impacted how I view myself, my values, and my relationships. The void manifested as a deep-seated feeling of unworthiness, a longing for validation and a tendency to seek unavailable partners in adulthood.”
She tried to bolt from the room, to shed the tears that had welled up in her heart and eyes, but Chizua stopped her. Nelly sat down as tear drops rolled down her cheeks freely.
“As a young girl, I once stood at the edge of a building with a photograph of the person who my mother described as my father. A man whose presence in my life feels more like a shadow than a memory.
“The emptiness I feel is not just about the man who was never truly there, it is about the questions left unasked, the wounds left unhealed, and the search for identity that somebody believes I should embark on now that I am 26 years old, and about getting married.”
This emotional imagery reflects on Nelly and many other girls that have experienced the effects of fathers during their early formative and growing up years.
Almost three decades earlier, Mrs. Fiona Ojomo met her ex-husband as colleagues, where they worked in the defunct National Electric Power Authority, Minna, Niger State. Both were fresh secondary school leavers. They rushed into an indescribable hot romantic relationship and the next thing was pregnancy. Both families raised objections to them marrying, preferring that the pregnancy be aborted, to allow them to pursue further studies. When the two youngsters could not be dissuaded the two sets of parents eventually consented and journey commenced.
Three years into the marital union, both discovered they were not meant for each other. Their relationship was beset with various degrees of complaints, show of disrespect, abuse. In the course of the marriage they had two children.
Before long they split up and went their separate ways. Fiona moved back with the young children back to her parents’ home. Shortly thereafter her eldest brother relocated them to the United Kingdom. The last time her ex-husband saw Chizua and Nelly was when they were five and three years old. Now, as legal immigrants in the UK, they have grown up into adults whose lives have been transformed by the environment, policies, procedures and education. Nelly was caught up fast in the new dispensation to know her rights without any interference.
Again, according to Nelly, the experience of growing up an absentee father is not as simple as recounting the harm caused by fathers who are physically absent or emotionally unavailable. It is a deep reflective and psychological exploration of how the absenteeism shapes a daughter’s emotional life, relationships, and sense of self.
“Days, weeks, months and years rolled by, I never got to see my father or really know him. I came to the conclusion that he never wanted me and that was why never asked after me. My fear heightened. Was mother up to some game? I wondered as I cried out for help. My hurt became rife when other students’ fathers would come for school activities, I had no father to come,” Nelly recalled, sobbing softly.
It is good for couples to know that the moment they separate or divorce as the case may be, they should all play their roles for their children too without waiting or pointing fingers at anyone. I remember a friend who was in that situation and he said: “I know the children will look for me when they grow up.”
Well, with the level of civilization, freedom of everything and entitlement mentality among the GenZ, some might or might not give a hoot about an absentee father anymore.
Sometime last year in the UK, a Nigerian female celebrity and TV star walked her daughter down the aisle to the altar on her big day. The video trended on social media and stirred up the ire of netizens who took umbrage at the mother, and almost broke the internet. On the other hand, so many others supported her action. Her ex-husband was the lead actor in painting his ex-wife black on social media. But her daughter got married as her mother walked down the aisle. It should be a big lesson to men.
Remarkably, when couples separate, the effect on the children can be profound. That is the finding made by Susan E. Schwartz in her transformative research work on the effects of the absentee fathers on daughters. She submitted that an absentee father leaves an indelible imprint on his daughter’s psyche. Her inner father is the voice that can either criticize or comfort, guide or abandon her in such lonely days.
Just like Nelly who felt deeply hurt by the absence of the father, Bunmi Ajisafe insists her father who also abandoned her owes her some explanations. “I have always heard that Dr. Ajisafe is my father, but I do not know him. My mother talks about him in a positive manner, but that is for her. I do not have any personal relationship with him. Therefore, for us to reconcile, I have my questions ready and waiting for him whenever he is ready. I need some explanations. Has anyone asked me how I healed and was able to cope with the absence of my an educated father who did not care about me. I was not the problem between him and my late mother, but he was my father as I learnt.”
Mr. Ajisafe said further: “I must also state that his long absence in my life needs a healing process, it is not as simple as the destination. Yes, I demand some explanations, I cannot just jump at him immediately. I would first of all heal internally before relating with him. I need self-reflection, therapy, encouragement to confront my pain with courage and compassion. I will take ownership of my healing and reclaim my emotional autonomy.”
Now, acknowledging that issues could come up between marital or nonmarital couples, but one’s role should not be neglected, especially that of fathers. Knowing that women have a natural bond with their children, they should not neglect the days of little beginnings, which will propel into the future. It is also possible that a partner might not let his or ex have access to the children, but do your best and leave the rest to God.
Most men have not understood that the absence of a father shapes a daughter’s relationships with men as she grows up. An absentee and unresolved father could lead to patterns of seeking validation, avoiding intimacy, or falling into unhealthy dynamics. When separation or divorce happens, most fathers blame their ex-wives for not singlehandedly raising a worthy daughter. All blames would be heaped on the woman who is also trying to pick up the strings of her life and move on. A weak husband would not provide support, instead he would attack and blackmail his ex-wife and finally abandon them to fate.
Surprisingly, the period of absenteeism on the other hand offers hope by understanding that women can break free from them and cultivate healthier and more fulfilling relationships.
But then, mothers should not wash their hands off completely and slaughter their daughter on the altar of their father’s absenteeism. A mother’s role should not be overlooked when separation or divorce happens. The best every mother could do is to compensate for the father’s absence, becoming both nurturer and disciplinarian, a dual role which creates its challenges and complexities in the mother-daughter relationship. This will help to design the daughter’s emotional landscape, which will address the dynamics of life.
To our dear daughters who experienced the traumatic situation, the onus is on you to move beyond the narratives of absenteeism and into the place of self-awareness, self-worth, and wholeness. As painful and hurtful as it may be, while the absence of a father may leave a scar, it doesn’t have to define the rest of a daughter’s life.
Through self-examination and intentional growth, daughters can find strength in their vulnerability and create a new story for themselves.