#LessonsFromMyDad

My siblings & I had a dog once. His name was Benjy, a Jack Russell Terrier I think. I’m a black South African, I grew up in the 1980s and the only breeds we knew were the bulldog and a German Shepherd or “police dog” as it was known. Benjy joined our family in the late 1980s and unfortunately met his Maker in the winter of 1991 after a short illness. The loss was unbearable for all of us, it was very hard losing a member of the family. I remember my dad’s prayer at the funeral. Yes that’s how much we all loved that dog, we held a funeral. My dad described life as a Stage Play. He said, I paraphrase “Lights come on, the audience claps and the actor plays their role. Once their role is done, the actor runs or disappears backstage and that is the end.” 24 years later, those words I still carry with me every single day.

                     I too have a role to play in life and had better make it memorable.

 My father, u Dukie; #TheDuke, Bra Max, Merican, uTata Bhobho, Principal uNkonki to many; to me he is my father; my teacher; my mentor & my leader. I have named this piece #LessonsFromMyDad and right here I am going to share with you a little bit about this man.

Disclaimer: This is written purely from my point of view. I do not know what my siblings think about my dad, but it can't be too far from the thoughts expressed here.

                                                        He was almost 2m tall in his prime

The little bit of memory I have about my childhood is watching the news and reading newspapers with my dad. The Duke buys a whole range of newspapers on a daily basis and watches the news in every South African language and cares not whether he understands the language. Throughout my childhood years we had those parent-child intimate moments where he would explain the Freedom Charter, Communism & Socialism amongst other things. It would have been nice to play swings instead of discussing freedom and politics but that was his way of saying “I love you.” Both my parents are retired Educators, My father is a retired History and Political Science teacher. He sees a learner in every child. My family says at the age of five I knew Heads of States by name;  I spoke of Ronald Reagan; Hosni Mubarak and Muammar Gaddafi like I knew who they were. I spent a lot of my time watching my parents do their Unisa assignments using those orange & white study guides and I remember reading some of their books too (Including The Animal farm & Julius Caesar) our house had knowledge in every corner. One of the things they used to say back then was "Teachers take a vow to educate. Our job does not stop when the school bell rings” My father educated in the rural areas of the Eastern Cape until the late 1980s. His school even back then had a functional Library and a Science & Computer Laboratory.  I think that’s where my interest in Youth Development comes from. While we’re on the subject, why don’t you check out my website www.byf.org.za? Donations are welcome too **wink**

Lesson 1: Education

This remains my father’s main lesson. As old as we all are now, my youngest brother is 30 years old (He'd like to believe he's older) my father demands to know on a regular basis what we are studying and why not if you are on a break. He is from the old school where education was the one and the only key of life. I know that my dad is still disappointed that I did not become a Medical Doctor but God willing, I swear to start and finish my PhD not for me but to make him proud.

Lesson 2: Keep calm & be patient

I'm blessed with this. "Reason before emotion" My dad would sit you down and question the reasons for your transgression. He would never jump to punishment, he would ask questions and through that mildly annoying interrogation you'd learn how & where you went wrong. Trust me you'd wee yourself, not because he raised his voice but out of shame.

I have only a few times seen my father angry. He gets upset; he's human but never angry. I have mastered that art too, I do not know how to be angry and shout at the top of my voice. Equally, I refuse to listen when people argue instead of discussing issues.

My father believes in waiting for the right time. He taught all of us to try before giving up. He would say it is our responsibility to play our part in making our wishes come to life. The worst thing that can happen is not getting the opportunity and we end up in the same position that we are. If we do not try however, we shall always be haunted by questions of “what if, if only..."

We went to collect my brother from the bus station once. They said the bus was running late by at least three hours. He took out his newspaper and started reading to while away time. The rest of us in the car, his wife especially wanted to strangle him. Home is only 30mins away, why could we not go and come back? Patience!!! #LessonsFromMyDad

Lesson 3: Never seek entitlement

I remember only ONE hiding from my father. He sent me to buy him The Daily Dispatch newspaper. Newspapers were only 20c at the time. He gave me 50c, I took a 4km walk to the shops and gave him back his 30c change. In my mind I deserved a reward, so I asked for 10c and he did not respond. My entitlement led me to taking this 10c and “turned up” with my friends. When I got back home from "Turn up" he asked “What happened to the rest of my change?” I assumed my “Pay Back The Money” position and asked "how much are you short?" That’s when he took off his belt and gave me a hiding. Ouch!!! my legs hurt just thinking about it. He aimed for legs, I still don't know why. He beat entitlement and lies out of me.

Lesson 4: Discipline 

“I am preparing you for the real world. One day you’ll go to boarding school; University or get a job. I won’t always be around to ensure your well-being. Learn discipline now and you will thank me one day.  You must always be ready. The world does not wait for stragglers. By "ready" he meant, your school books must always be in top form whenever he picked them up and decided to go through your them like an Auditor. To be fair he made our school work a priority, before asking you to make him tea or send you around he would ask whether you were not busy with your school work. This is the reason he did not want to hear it when we came with stories if our books were not up to date. It's a pity my parents taught subjects that I did not take in High School. My sister did though and she did not have it easy. My dad used to sit with her and go through her History syllabus. Shem LOL! He pushed us so hard, I remember making it to the top ten Grade 7 in the entire Ciskei and his question was “What did you not understand in class? How is it that a whole nine other pupils managed to beat you?  I took it very hard back then but with age I have learned to calm down. I used to fear failure so much, until a few years ago I was always afraid to try things I am not good at. Today, I change hobbies like underwear. I learnt ice-skating only last year, there I was 1.78m in skates bumping into 5 year olds at the Ice rink. I did not care, I fell so many times but today I skate well.

Lesson 5: Respect

“Respect starts the moment you meet that person that you do not know. Treat them with utmost respect.” For a long time I thought Mfundisi/Mhlekazi  (Sir) was a name. That’s how he addressed all his peers. I still do not say my father's name, none of my siblings do. His name is uTata. His friends ranged from fellow teachers and politicians to tribal leaders. I remember how my mom disliked her entire house reeking of smoke left by leaders from the tribal communities (where my father worked) who would travel to discuss community issues with him. Those were his peers and advisors. He would say "those people did not go to school but their villages have crops, livestock and water." The Chiefs take care of their people, hence I have no illusions about how much education one needs to be a good leader. The main thing is good support and will as a leader. One of the many years that the Post Office (it's become habit, hasnt it?) was on strike he made us drive around the township delivering school reports at the homes of the learners. Mind you, township schools had (have) at least 800 learners per school. Here we were, making personal deliveries. His explanation was "parents & pupils have to spend the holidays knowing how they've done in the exams" I thought "hello, but it's not your fault the post office is on strike"

Though the world has changed and people choose to be angry and critical over everything like they have no means of making things better, I try to take ownership of my attitude #LessonsFromMyDad

Lesson 6: A giving heart

I cannot tell you the number of instances that my father embarrassed me for questioning why he would give money to the homeless. We would be driving around and he'd give money to strange people. He would say, put yourself in his shoes. What would you want me to do, walk on, pretend you’re not there or give you money to buy yourself your next meal? Sharing is exactly that, I'm sharing with him the little bit that I have **gasp**

Lesson 7: Responsibility

We all had responsibility from opening and closing curtains to locking gates & taking out trash, it was so annoying at times. In turn my dad’s responsibility was /is to ensure the house is secure. He’d go to bed earlier and without fail he’d get up at midnight and walk in and outside the house to ensure that his family is safe. Whenever I go home even now, around midnight I hear his slow footsteps walking around the house to check that all doors are locked. This has made me rather difficult to live with, I believe in responsibility and never understand when people to not live up to what is expected out of them.

Lesson 8: Play your role and play it well

My father does not do small talk over phone. In fact, when my dad calls, rest assured he and mother discussed an issue and they thought it is only when the request (or rather instruction) comes through his mouth that the children shall listen. The few times my father phones for "conversation" it is usually to seek feedback on a project that you have discussed in the past. I used to dislike this. I wanted my dad to be like the other dads & call about nothing.

His role: Head of the family

- Mother: My mom is a retired School Principal. One of the most  independent and self reliant people I know. She's a leader in her own right but mom relies on my father for everything. Though she earned her own money as a teacher, my mother has NEVER stopped at a filling station. My dad does that for her. She also receives daily allowance, that might sound strange to you but that's their arrangement. She's a leader out there but #TheDuke is HER leader and provider. 

                                                                Meet the parents

                                                                    

- Children: My father brought us up well enough to never feel the need to impose rules upon us.  He trusts us to do the right thing. There are no gender related chores in my parents' house, we all do what needs to be done. To this day I still cut my father's hair and my brothers: Married with kids as they are, still make tea and cook when they visit. Handy work around the house, my mother always said "why not try yourself before calling the handyman?" Our bedtime was 9pm during the week and 10pm on Fridays and Saturday. Remember Mnet Friday movies started at 9pm and used to end between 10h30 and 11pm but we all knew when the clock strikes 10pm we all ought to be in bed. We never complained, it was my responsibility as the older one to ensure we went to bed. Apartheid rules, this wouldn't fly these days. Children have rights LOL!

Rules were set, but indirectly. We were given roles. I have 3 biological siblings : My elder sister and two younger brothers. I’ll explain the biological bit one day...or not. My sister was the leader around the house. She ensured that were all taken care of, our uniforms and school shoes polished; we did not get bullied etc. In fact my sister took the role too seriously she became the mother. My earliest memory is that of my sister (she was 15, I was 8) taking me to Sunday school weekly, without fail. We took a taxi, young as we were and would meet our mother later for the main church service. My parents never had to remind us about Sunday School, she took the responsibility but went beyond her "call of duty." I have no memory of my parents at my school functions and Prize giving awards but that of my sister. Throughout boarding school I lived in the senior dormitory with her instead of the juniors. She was and remains my mother. We're the same person, we think alike in everything. I'm less conservative though. Tjo she thinks like an old lady. We love her though and eternally grateful for her never failing love. Give that girl a Bell's!!!

I was the “scribe” for my dad. I ensured his news bulletins were recorded on VHS. Uhm my dad used to record everything ANC and Kaizer Chiefs related and I ensured all these tapes were readily available and had clear labels. 

At the age of 6, I was entrusted with the house keys. I know what you’re thinking, but absolutely no harm could have come my way back then, the world was still safe in the 1980s.  Instead of troubling the neighbours I would come back home from school, hang my uniform neatly in preparation for the next day ; do my homework and wait for my parents to come home. To this day it is very hard for me to ask for help. I usually exhaust all options humanly possible before asking. This works both ways, however. I sometimes suffer in silence when there could be someone out there willing to help.

At the age of 8, I became responsible for my younger brother. We went to the same school and I became his ‘big sister.’ We were tied at the hip throughout our school and University days. The roles have changed now however, I’m the younger sister who seeks approval from "elder brother” in everything I do. 

My younger brother became responsible for our youngest brother. Whenever he strayed my father would say “Remember ndoda (man), your brother copies everything you do. Make sure that you are a good original” True to form, my youngest brother followed his every step, down to his career choice.

                                                    My younger brother & I almost 30 years ago

My youngest brother... well he's the reason for my parents' premature ageing. He was unlike us, he's a "born free" by the time he went to school, children were to be seen AND heard. He went to Beach Burger & all those places and stayed out all night. He was the first out of my siblings to eat things that we all knew were reserved for my dad. Dude, my dad's stuff was off bounds, we all knew this fact but he and my niece (Lil Q) would push boundaries man and my parents allowed them. We could not believe it!!! My dad aged so quickly after the good kids left home for University, he relegated himself to holding interrogations lying on his back. That born free would stand there flippant about the whole thing and walk out once the interrogation was over ncncncnnc

Lesson 9: Managing Finances

Strangely, my dad refused to buy us anything outside what we wore to church. To buy our "American Day" clothes, we would put clothes on lay bye and have the patience to pay for months on end. This was a township way of doing things. Kids have credit cards today and most of them in debt. We were encouraged to invest our money and spending it on experiences instead of short lived pleasures. We went on fancy holidays every four years. He saved up for four years to afford flying his big family and ensuring good accommodation and spending money. Those are unforgettable experiences for all of us. When he retired in 2002, he gave all of us an equal amount of money and he monitors how far we are with that investment. I do not know about my siblings, but mine is growing steadily :) 

I am thankful for all my father’s lessons. My father is no rich man, but we never needed anything.  I’m thankful for our pay day weekend trips to the zoo; harbour; beach etc. that always ended in a pie and Dew Drop guava juice LOL! oh and the Sunday buffets at King David hotel. Going there my 4 siblings (including my niece, lil Q) & I would all fit in the backseat but coming back was a struggle. We would be so full and sleepy the trip back home would start with everyone fighting for space and end in silence & snoring, he'd be the only one awake. He was the driver. He did not have a choice really.

I hope my dad is proud of whom we have become. It is hard to believe that this is a man who grew up without a father (My grandfather passed on in 1949) yet did such a great job raising us. We all want to become like him. We are parents now and strive to transfer these lessons to our own children.

                                                              Conversation with my sister

My father is 72 years old, he’s old and fragile but I fear him. Beyond that fear I love him more than ANYTHING in this world. He’s my number one; everything and everyone comes after my father. I'm not the most emotional being and find it hard to express myself. I show love and hardly verbalise it. If my father does not know how thankful we are, he knows now and so does the entire world.


Siyabulela  Cete; #Chizama; Bhurhuma;Mlowa; Ncenceza; Dlinyamékrwada; Mbambo zinomongo

                                                              May you live forever