Last weekend’s Father’s Day celebrations were a beautiful reminder that beneath every child’s laughter, there likely stands a father who chose to show up. Whether lying beside their child during bedtime prayers, teaching them football moves on the lawn, or simply offering a hand to steady a stumble, fathers who step into their roles with intention leave an indelible mark.
It was that Saturday afternoon. Between piles of schoolbooks and laundry gathered in his modest living room was a father helping his son, Tunde, rehearse mathematics. Tunde groaned about quadratic equations. His dad knelt beside him, arm wrapped around his shoulder, whispering encouragement that was louder than every math anxiety. “One more step, boy. We’ll get there.” As they worked through the problem together, I saw something rare, which was a father choosing presence over business. It was engagement over excuse.
A father’s presence still carries weight beyond words. It signals security, confidence, and love. It says to a child, “You’re worth my time, my mind, and my effort.” In a world where many things can go wrong, that assurance is a powerful anchor. Sometimes, fathers find themselves caught in a bind of balancing work demands, societal expectations, and the desire to meet every need of their family. “I’ve got to provide,” a man once said during a weekend chat. “If I don’t, the whole home collapses.” The financial pillar of fatherhood is vital, but it cannot stand alone. Without the other pillars, guidance, affection, spiritual leadership, and emotional support, the house may stand but lack soul.
Our legacy as fathers is not measured by the size of our homes or the contents of our wallets alone. It is measured by the values we pass on. The integrity modelled at a market stall, the resilience shown in traffic jams, and the empathy demonstrated when our child makes a mistake. These values are our lasting gifts.
There was a man who would walk his son to school almost every day. That walk took twenty minutes, rain or shine. He used the time to share stories about his school days, the importance of honesty, and how success often rises out of perseverance. His son bagged a scholarship to university abroad years later. Imagine the joy of hearing his son speak of those morning walks as his foundation. That gesture did not just usher him to school. It guided him through life’s early storms.
Value is often disguised in simplicity. Fathers do not need to create elaborate memories. They need to show up consistently. They need to listen without impatience. They need to stand firm even when the world around them questions norms. They need to say “I’m sorry” when they get it wrong, and “I am proud of you” when their children get it right.
One of the most powerful, yet overlooked, duties of fatherhood is emotional availability. Many children, especially the boys, grow up believing that vulnerability is shameful. They believe that tears are signs of weakness. Nigerian fathers are often taught to be stoic, unshakeable, and emotion-proof. There is courage in softness. It is in the strength to hug when they hurt. To say, “I’m here,” even when afraid. To admit, “I made a mistake,” even when pressured to be perfect. Our children are not just watching when we win. They are watching how we handle failure.
A father and daughter were painting a wall together some years ago. The father handed his daughter the brush, guided her strokes, and then wiped the excess paint from her forehead. She giggled, swiped at the blob with her sleeve. She looked at him. He looked at her. No words were needed. The painting was never about the paint. It was about time, connection, simple joy, and a father’s willingness to slow down.
Then there is a spiritual role we carry. Fatherhood is not simply about organising children’s routines. Guiding their souls is important. Where else will they first learn right from wrong, kindness over cruelty, self-respect over show-offs, and gratitude over greed? These lessons begin at home, modelled by the father who bows his head in prayer, who intervenes gently when temptations call, who carries his family in heart and action before God.
Fatherhood includes community as well. Every father is a stakeholder in his community’s future. We should stand up for children beyond our own, mentor young men as much as we can, speak up against violence targeting children in the marketplace, and lift mothers who often carry emotional labour alone. A father’s presence does not have to be contained within four walls. It can reverberate outward in multiple acts of compassion.
I must also speak to the fathers who fell short. The men who missed birthdays because they were ‘busy’. To those who offered chicken wings over dinners, or who marched children to boarding school only to drift away. You cannot undo the past, but you can choose today to do it differently and better. You can pick up the phone and apologise. Request another chance to make up with no clichés, no conditions. You can show up tomorrow in the best way you can. You can be the father you never had. There is still time to be the father your child still needs, no matter their age.
Father’s Day was not the conclusion of fatherhood, but a checkpoint. It was a day to pat our shoulders and to check our course. Are we present? Are we leading with grace? Are we nurturing hearts? Are we building character? Are we becoming men who live up to the name on our children’s foreheads? Maybe not perfect, but persevering!
As an 83-year-old grandfather, I encourage you to let your actions speak louder than your gifts. Let your presence echo louder than any words. Let your love create a legacy that transcends time and circumstance. Let your responsibility be not a burden, but a blessing. The day you become older, and grey-haired like me, your grown children will come to you, not for money or favours, but to share gratitude for the father you were and the legacy you created.
We celebrated last week’s Father’s Day. From tomorrow, and every day after, let us renew our commitment to fatherhood. It is not because the world pays attention, but because our children always are watching us.
For further comment, please contact: Osondu Anyalechi: 09090419057; [email protected]