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EVIL PARENTS AND THE DAMAGE THEY DO THEIR KIDS


Hello Stella,


 I have come to you because I would like to share a subject for thought or maybe to be debated on your platform if you would allow. It is about being raised in an African home. I don’t know where my debate will fit so, I leave it to you to decide.


Please, forgive my mistake because English is not my first language and a lot of emotions will be running through me as I write.


Disclaimer for the readers: this subject comes from what I have lived and my opinion. We all grow in different environment and experience things differently but that doesn’t allow anybody to be rude and disrespectful in the name of trying to make a point. Internet allows most of us to live that anonymity life but not to bash people and feel smart about it. If you have nothing good to say, just pass instead of sharing your anger and frustration with the world.


Warning: This is a very long writing. I am not a writer but I will do my best to condense things enough for you to have an acceptable idea of what I am talking about.


Now let’s start the writing.


Two days ago, I came across a post on Instagram of a young guy who tweeted about being happy that his dad passed. As much as I understood where he was coming from because I am in similar situation, I still felt a small pain for all us going through that feeling. I will try to shorten my own story to explain.



I was born in a family of 7 with 4 older siblings. My mom was the main money maker of the family ( she had a very flourishing multi million business ) while my dad was working for the government. Despite that, my mother was the very submissive type; everybody knows her in town to be the one who will close her store at noon to go cook for her husband or will tell her customers to wait until she is done cooking so they can continue debate prices( when some follow her home, she would serve them food too). She cooked herself 3 meals daily, kept the whole house completely cleaned weekly with the help of some employees, hand washed clothes, and more.

My father was the type who never talks at home. The type of person, when you hear his car parking in the garage, you start running to go lock yourself in your room. The type you will say “ good morning dad” to and he will never reply back, but the morning you don’t say it, he will land a slap on your face to wake you up. Nobody watches TV with him in the living room and he made sure he put enough papers and random things on our 10seats living room table that there was only space for him to seat and eat alone. Funny enough, some outsider have a complete different view of him. 

My father is the last one of his family too with most of his sibling being dead by the time I was born. He was the father figure for most of my cousins. They would come to our house, sit and laugh with him but as soon as any of us his kids would try it, it is the death stare. I remember, when my mom bought a computer for my elder brother and I to use in the late 90s. That was luxury back then. Unfortunately for us, it was installed in the living room. Our dear dad was using it too. One day, the computer had an issue and was not working properly, my dad forbade my brother and I from ever touching it again after he repairs it. However, his nephews would come home and use it from morning to night while us the kids will go out to the Internet cafe.



Being the last one (10y difference with the one before me), I was the only one at home with my parents while my siblings were schooling abroad. My mom being a business women, had to travel often to get her merchandises. As an 8yo, once my mom left, my dear dad would either start coming home late or not sleep at home for days. I fell sick many times, and it was my mom’s employees who would check on me in the morning and take me rapidly to the clinic where there will beg the doctor to care for me until my mom come to settle the bill once she gets back.



Funny enough, I was that type of kid that tried very hard to understand the behavior of my dad. I would ask him questions just to start a possible conversation that will end in frustration, I would try to sit in the living room when he was there until he find a stupid argument to chase me away. I started to really despise him. I wasn’t very close to my mother either but since I had nobody else, I would complain to her about my father’s strange behavior. All she will tell me is that it is my dad and I couldn’t change him so I have to accept him. Did I mention how she was depressed in her own marriage to that guy? The cries at randoms our of the night, seeing her shave her head crying,… But my mom was one of those who go through hell and force themselves to present a picture perfect outside because they think everybody is watching them; I never understood it. Today as an adult I know she was going through a hell of emotional abuse and that turned her into a horrible person.



Back to me, I went abroad for university and I decided to give my dad another chance in my life. That guy would come visit me once or twice a year and it was in a nightmare. He will monopolize the TV and I still couldn’t sit with him, so in my own apartment during his visit I would lock myself in my room. He will drink bottles of water and leave them around the entire apartment but will never trashed it. I will serve him food, after being done, he will leave the plate with the rest for me to pick ( those are the behaviors my mother tolerated from him and my sisters continues with it trying to care for him like my mom when he would visit them too). 

One time he came to visit, ate and left it there. I equally left the dirty plate there for him until he left a week later. We both watched it spoil but I didn’t bother. To avoid being angry, I was spending my entire days on campus where I will eat and just come back late at night to sleep. You cannot come visit me, not talk to me, and leave plate for me to wash as your maid.



After that time, I couldn’t stand his visit anymore because they were becoming depressing times for me. I forgot to mention that by the time I was schooling abroad, he was retired (mostly at home or visiting his nephews and his fellow religious people around the world). He called me one day to tell me he wanted to come a month later. I declined and asked him to come two months later. He said he couldn’t because he has other things to do. I asked him what he had to do as he is retired only for him to angrily replied that he has other responsibility somewhere else. I then told him that he can find time after he goes to his meeting then. Dude said that it is the only time he has to visit that he offered.

 I asked him if he insinuated that other things were more important than family to the extent that he is trying to squeeze me on his schedule. He replied that one day I will have kids and they will deal with me, then he hanged up. To say I was shocked was an understatement.


Finally I graduated and him and my mother came. My mother didn’t want to come because she didn’t want to see him but I convinced her because she had been singly handling the bill of my education so she deserved to witness my success. My graduation ceremony was very long and we were very exhausted. I wanted to go to the restaurant so we can celebrate like most families, the guy asked me to drop him home because he didn’t want to go.

 I went alone with my mother. Another day I cooked and we all ate, then came the time to wash the utensils that were used. My apartment was an open concept ( no wall between kitchen and living room). My dear father was watching TV while my mother locked herself in my room, I wash washing the plate only for him to shout and ask me why I was making noise with what I was washing (I swear I wasn’t banging anything oo, just regular wash noise). I told him that I was just washing the plates, only for him to tell me that I make too much noise and I will end alone in life with nobody to marry. 

I promised that I wished I could hurt him but I hold myself. When I got to the room, my mother saw my anger but I refused to tell her what happened. He left days later and I cut all contacts with him. It took me months to finally tell my mother and siblings what happened and by then I had made my mind to cut him out forever.


Fast forward to two years later, I got a call from my siblings telling me that our father fell and was in a coma. I was so not worried that I asked her what did she expected me to do with that? She apologized and said it was just to inform me. I told her I really didn’t care and they should go care for him if they want. Some people might shame me but that day I felt kind of relieved that such a bad individual would finally be leaving the planet.

Lucky him though, God had decided it wasn’t his time and brought him back to life. It was during that event, that my siblings found that this guy had diabetes all his life (it runs in his family and killed many of his sibling), also they have cancer running in the family. My anger even doubled because this is somebody who would call my mother illiterate ( because she stopped at high school), and every time my mother will take us to the hospital for visit and they will ask family history, my mother will be shouting God forbid that our father family and hers are clean. The anger got even deeper.


Now my issue came early this year when my fiancé wanted to ask for my hands. I had to go meet my father after 2years and half. Oh boy, the anger on my face doing this… I thought that the fact that he got a second chance to life would have humbled him. Boy was I wrong! He was still very full of pride and entitlement and wanted to get things done his way.

 I introduced my fiancé to him and we both flew back to our location. Three months later my fiancé had to fly back home because he lost an uncle, he then decided to meet my dad one-on-one to properly ask my hand. My father told him that he needed to talk to me. I called him couple days later, only for him to tell me that he would only talk face to face and I told him that I couldn’t get home anytime soon. I pleaded with him to install WhatsApp so we can have video call and he agreed . Only for me to call him couple days later to see if things were set so we can talk and he started shouted at me to never call him again about that, that he doesn’t care if I can’t make it home anytime soon that if it is to be in a thousand years, it is fine by him. 

I asked why he then agreed for the WhatsApp video, and he said he never agreed, that I convinced him. I reminded him that he agreed and proof was that one of my sisters was even working with him to install the app. He said “bye” and hanged up on me. Oh Lord knows that I had the same feeling as when you feel like beating an evil spirit out a child; I wished I could whip him over and over.


I felt so ridiculed that I decided to cut him off again and this very much forever. I explained to my fiance and his family a pinch of my story with my father and told them that as much as I am conscious that it is for my Honor that they are trying to ask my hands, I won’t be able to stand that guy even for a second. I am not planning to spend a whole ticket to see him and even if I get home, I will not do it. They are trying to convince me that it is the last thing that will make me face him but I rejected it because this is my happy moment and for him to try to bring his evil personality makes me develop more hate.


My very long epistle is to give you a peek of some evil parents ( If I really go into details, I will have my own session on Aunty Stella’s blog). I know some people will still be like “ it is family”, or “ pray”. To those ones, I will reply that family can be your biggest poison and you can pray all you want but if God has blessed you with the eyes to see an evil and you still choose to be blind then you are on your own.


I know some will wonder about my mother and I would say that despite the fact that she was a great housewife, her own depressing actions will leave you dumb. I am thankful for all the expenses she made on us but it seems like having forced to give the perfect picture outside had turned her into a very bitter and emotionally awful mother ( if I start her own epistle , you guys will hate me).

Both parents have successfully damage their kids to some extents.
My siblings today portray symptoms from lack of confidence, to hate, to anger, and for some even violence and mental disorder. I have my own damages too but I am working on them.


I believe a lot of people come from a version or the other of dysfunctional families but the African culture makes majority of them accept it as normal while they carry the wounds into their daily live. 

You ask people a simple thing and they reply with so much hate, or those that wish other people bad things just to reflect their own sad lives, or those that will just say to take it like that otherwise curses will run onto you because parents are always your god on earth (majority of the latter I’ve found are really the one that have been completely destroyed by their family). There is another category of those like me who vow to never be like that parents they despise but slowly discover that they have some of the behaviours and are trying to fight it back.


To any person going through something similar as mine, I pray that we all heal and learn to live a fully happy life. That we learn to forgive, even if we don’t forget and learn to move from toxic people in the name of family or close friends.


Back to the story I’ve read, it saddened me to see comments wishing him that his kids rejoice once he dies or that he live a miserable life. If you don’t walk in someone’s shoes and don’t want to open your mind to hear their story, don’t talk. Yes, some wrong are wrong but they are other things that can only be understood if you went through them


If you feel like sharing your own , please do and for those who have advices on how to heal or deal with the situation, I am all ears open.

*Oh wow!!!...Iunderstand how painful this decision must be for you,let me read the comments as well.May you heal from your pain.