Thread by @lewis_ngunyi

I had a cup of tea with my old man today. My treat. It's been a while since we last had a chat.

He walked in about 7 minutes late. He had called promptly on time to apologise that he'd be running late. He apologises again as he takes the mask off his face.

I got my time-keeping from pops. He keeps time, and so do I. We haven't seen each other in a little over a month, me and him. We live in the same town.

Small talk, how are you doing blah blah blah...The waiter takes our order. Pause.

I notice my dad has grown old. The lines on his forehead have become thicker and he cares even less about his fashion sense everyday. Retirement just has its way on men. In a way, that's probably his mark of freedom. Love that for him. It stopped bothering me a long time ago.

He still has that blank stare in his eyes when you're talking. You can't read what's going on in his head. Unless you say something triggering and his brows pinch. I fix my gaze on them. His complexion is about two shades lighter than mine. My sister says we look alike though.

My dad is a hero. I admire him on so many levels. But he's far from perfect. Very. He's grown more cynical every year now, and rightfully so. Which is why we're here. We need to talk.

Some of my friends tell me I'm scary when serious. They haven't met this man.

I've had one experience that took me to zero, and it took me about 2 years to find my step. Dad has had two-and squarely in the middle of him raising 6 kids. It took him not a second to find his step. Or so I thought.

Now that I'm older, and so is he, the cracks are beginning to show. The weight of the world he's had to carry on his back is bearing on his frame. He can no longer lift quite like he did. He's not any less stronger than he's ever been, but he's needed a hand for sometime now.

The violence of 2008 tore everything he'd built down to ashes and he had to scramble to put things together. I watched it all unfold. We barely noticed the economic change. Not that drastically, at least.
In retrospect, I wonder how they handled that.

3 years later, in 2011, they met a Filipino businessman and co-founded a microfinance institution. It would have been a fully fledged bank by now, (generational wealth, smh) had the Filipino not squandered the money and filed for bankruptcy.

There was already millions in deposits collected from people we knew. First clients. Close family friends. Ties were cut, bridges were burnt. Mum and Dad maxed out their loans to pay these debts, on top of the initial investment investment capital: dad shut down.

He only finished paying off that loan in 2020, when his retirement plan paid out. All my life I haven't heard him say how badly things have been. But you know...retirement. It gives you time. Time to think, and overthink. What if? What if? And then, you lose it. He hasn't.

We were here to discuss financial decisions. Money has always been a difficult conversation in our house, especially after the endless supply got cut off in 2008. And I'd summoned probably the most scary man on the planet for the most uncomfortable conversation for both of us.

As I looked across the table, I saw a reflection of myself. The pragmatism; the respect for solitude; the desire to be left alone; the expressionless stare; the independence; the disregard for indulgence in pointless desires; the principles; slow to anger, fiery when in it...

I wondered if he looked across the table and saw a younger him. I wondered if he saw me and felt proud. He didn't know I was starting over yet again-and he didn't need to-but I hoped he felt proud. I was about to be therapist to my dad. I knew a lot would come up...

"I want us to talk about you...and your welfare..." I muttered the words. His brows pressed. I'd touched a nerve. He fixed his gaze on me. I was about to say "sike" and run out?

"About me? Why?", he asked.
"Because I don't think you're happy...and I think you should be" oh God!

We met at around 3. We parted ways at around half past 6. 3.5 hours!
He had to rush home feed his cows. Dairy farming is his new hobby, he says. A pretty expensive one at that. I dare not question it. We've disturbed too many still waters today. My bill is bloated. I frown. Hmm..

This is the first of many. I'm planning to make this our thing. We don't drink, my dad and I. Well, I don't really enjoy it, but I indulge minutely once in a while. Dad, not at all. We'll be meeting for coffee and conversations. He's no scary anymore-not that much at least.

The last thing he said to me when he left was, "I feel very happy we've had this talk". If my sister goes through this thread, this is the part she won't believe dad said at all😂.

A while ago, someone told me to get in touch with my dad, and "just try, you never know"

We no longer talk. Ideological differences though, not beef. But I think we met so that I could get closer to dad. Funny how life works, right? But at least it does work.

Alright, I'm done now.
And unlike my dad, I make my own meals, smh.