Life After Peace Corps

Father’s Love

One of my co-workers is from Nigeria.  He is a young father with three children, a very religion man.  He is still very much an African, with traditional value, attitude and belief.   He is an average worker, typical Federal employee, laid-back, never get excited, but when it comes to parenting; he is much disciplined and firm.  Few times, I overheard him giving orders to his kids.  “Listen to your mother, Take a nap!”  He even admitted to me that he would hit his kids if they did not obey his order.   “I am their father, they have to listen to my orders,” he said it with tight emotion, acting like a tyrant.   He reminds me of my father.   

Growing up, I hated my father for he was an angry man and often he was violent.  My younger brother got most of the beating.  I had my share of punishment as well but less sever.  For many years, I assumed that he did not have a heart, did not love us.  When I moved to the US, I was happy that I did not have to see him again.  Over the years, my hatred towards him lessened.  Looking back to my childhood, I realized how hard it was for him to raise five children with his meager income.  He did not have much in his life, just worked day and night, seven days a week, from dawn to dusk.  The only enjoyment he had was a beer with his dinner.

Years ago, I went home for the first time.  My father came to the airport to pick me up.  His hair was completely gray, and he was wearing the same suit that he wore twenty years ago.  The sight of him made me cry....

Last week, friends from NY brought me a box of Chinese cookies.  I shared them with my Nigerian friend. I gave him two pieces and he took a small bite and loved it.    Ten minutes later, he showed me the cookies, which were now carefully wrapped in a napkin.  There was really not much left, just a small one with few crumbs. 

“I am so lucky today, Chi, I got some nice cookies for my kids” he smiled. 

His eyes were sparkling with kindness and I could feel his love for his children. I gave him all the cookies that were left in the box. 

Now I understand why I cried that day in the airport….