Growing up, family, teachers and Sesame Street peddled the same ideas of a family. A nucleic family consisting of a father, mother and children was the standard and any deviation from this ideal was and still is considered a “non-standard” family. I had a friend whose father ran off with the domestic helper when we were eight and he became an example for one such “unique” family set up. Traumatised by the experience I guess, his mother never remarried and soldiered on alone. Virtually overnight he ceased being Tinashe and became that “Poor fatherless kid”. Everyone looked at him with pity and changed the pitch of their voices whenever they spoke to him. No one wanted to play tag or chikudo, as we called it, with him anymore because we all feared he would break at the mildest shove. I for one pitied him and was glad I wasn’t in his position. Little did I know, five years later I would join Tinashe’s elite but undesired club.

My father passed away in a car accident when I was twelve. Apart from the tragedy of losing a father at such an early age, the segregation I would inevitably be subjected to was foremost in my mind. Where I grew up, losing parent was no different from contracting leprosy. One was ostracised and left to walk home alone after school and for at least four months, playing games with the guys was just out of the question. I guess it can be attributed to either the naive understanding of death that we had or simply that kids just weren’t that nice where I came from. Back then being friendless was the detrimental side effect of losing my father. As I grew older I realised that growing up without a father had some other far reaching consequences that went beyond being picked last or not being picked at all for a game of street soccer.

As an adult I decided to ask myself just how much growing up “fatherless” would define me as a husband and father. Common knowledge and popular tradition dictates that boys grow up to be the husbands and fathers that their own fathers set as examples. The examples my father set during his presence unfortunately went largely unappreciated or recognised. I was under the naive impression that when the time was right my father would sit me down and say “Son, get a pen and paper, I’m now going to teach you how to be a man and father.” Unfortunately for me, his life was cut short before that day came. Like Tinashe’s mother, my mom never remarried so the only example of parenting I had left was her. I did have uncles to look up to but apart from the occasional phone call and odd visit, I failed to get the full advantages that would be gained from an ever present male role model.

During the first few months of her widowhood my mother found it difficult to cope alone with three kids so she employed the assistance of my unlucky-in-love Aunt Magdalene. The oestrogen levels in that home were off the charts. For a boy who had just entered the confusing maze that is puberty this was far from ideal. With the lack of a male guide to help me through it, I was left to my own devices and the shoulders of my peers to lean on. Everyone had their two cents to put in and I distinctly remember a young man who went by the nickname “Mhungu” (Black Egyptian Cobra) in boarding school. Those who had the misfortune of attending back-of-beyond boys only boarding schools will agree that great story tellers were revered and venerated. Mhungu would beguile and amaze us with extraordinary tales of his sexual exploits. The man would describe the female anatomy with such poetry that we could all paint a clear mental picture. If there was any veracity to his tales, he would’ve bedded at least thirty-six to forty girls during the four years that we shared a dorm room. We would clap and unanimously to agree that Mhungu was the epitome of manhood during those days. Unfortunately, this was an idea that would deeply embed itself and stick with me through my adolescence and into early adulthood.

All through the encounters and experiences I had only my mother to look to for parental guidance. Obviously I found it extremely hard to speak to her regarding the more intricate issues of male pubescence but she was the only figure I had. God bless the woman, she tried so hard to fill that void. The fact that she worked as a Sexual Health Counsellor for an organisation promoting safe sex really made our discussions all the more awkward. She found it difficult to deliver the raw facts of STDs without the added emotional burden of having to deliver them to her own son. As I left for college instead of giving me a knitted sweater or quilt to remember her by she gave me 2 cartons of latex condoms. A carton contains 75 packs, each containing three latex condoms. So in total I was stocked to the tune 450 condoms before I even had a girlfriend. I guess she thought that’s what fathers did for their first born sons as they went off into the world. Her being without a husband and me being without a father, we just made up the rules and expectations as we went along.

During early adulthood I was crippled by the feeling that I did not know the first thing about being a husband let alone a father. Yes I did have memories of my father but my so called mature understanding only dismissed most of what I remembered as nothing more than idealistic memories of a father, sugar-coated by the eyes of a child. So I was in limbo and stole time by believing that one day a bright light from the heavens would shine on me and induce an epiphany that would reveal all the mysteries of fatherhood. By the time I left fantasy land I was twenty-nine, had been in a committed relationship for five years, but had not made any solid plans to make her an honest woman. Even then I was still not ready to be a father or husband.

According to the 2017 Statistics SA General Household Survey, a staggering 61.8% of children below the age of 18 live without their father. Out of that number, 10.1% of children’s fathers are deceased, while 51.7% of children’s fathers are alive, but not living with the child. According to a 2013 report of the South African Institute of Race Relations (SAIRR), black children are hardest hit, while the absence of fathers amongst white children has increased 32% in the previous 15 years. Only 33% of South African children lived with both their parents and of the remaining 67%, only 39% lived with their biological mothers and 4% with their biological fathers. The other 57% lived in other kinds of care, including extended family, government institutions or child-headed households (Gerald Flurry, The Trumpet, 1/3/2018). These statistics do not take into account the many fathers who are living with their children, but are absent emotionally or are abusive in some way or another. Research would have you believe that boys who grow up without fathers end up being criminals, on drugs, unsuccessful and hyper masculine. We now have a generation of boys learning about manhood from internet porn, music videos and their peers.

There is a great number of complex socioeconomic, environmental, geographical and political issues that add to the continually increasing rate of absent fathers in South Africa. I, however, chose not to look at the causes of fatherlessness but rather dealing with the current state of affairs. Through the strength of a prayerful and strong willed mother I managed to escape the trappings of an absent male role model. Having grown up in a fatherless home due to death, I managed to glean some worthwhile pearls of wisdom as I fumbled my way through adulthood that may help fathers and men who themselves grew up without fathers:

1) Manhood has nothing to do with age – The fear of failing my future wife and children crippled me into delaying my nuptials. I believed that the older I got, the wiser I became. I measured my manhood in years instead of experiences, self-evaluation and life lessons. A boy can become a man and good father at 22 simply by taking ownership of themselves and accepting advice and lessons.

 2) Seek the mentorship of male role model – Examples of remarkable fathers are abundant in our respective societies. Beyond even our immediate families, the church, the community and even the work environment can all spawn such mentors. Most are more than happy to share their views, thoughts and insights on fatherhood and manhood.

3) Communion with other positive men – I can never overstate the value of a man having other men he calls brothers that he can trust and lean on for sound advice. I was invited and joined one such group of men and we call ourselves the Men of God Fellowship. We get together on Saturday mornings for Christ-centred and prayer-driven discussions on spiritual growth, manhood, parenting and many other relevant issues.  The investment of time I have made in this group has paid off and I believe joining such a group can also fill that void of a male role model.

4) Masculinity is not all about physical strength – We as men have been bred to believe that physical strength and aggression are a man’s mainstay. A man’s ability to protect his family from physical danger is what he is judged upon. This may be true however a father’s mental strength is far more integral to his family’s well-being than his ability to kill a lion with his bare hands. It takes a great deal of mental fortitude for a man to face panic, disappointment, condemnation and to be there emotionally for his children.

5) Parenting is a 50/50 deal – For the longest time I believed that parenting is principally a mother’s job. I guess this skewed view was fuelled by growing up without seeing the fatherhood side of parenting and the only example I experienced was my mother’s. Coming to the realisation early in life that a father has just as much responsibility in the parenting process as the mother, helps in balancing the differing approaches that both parents bring to the equation.

What worries me now is the whole generation of men raised by women being released into the world.  Please don’t get me wrong, my advocacy for a male role model in a fatherless boy’s life is in no way a critique of the roles of single mothers in a boy’s life. I take nothing away from the stellar jobs that mothers and female figures who have, by tragedy or abandonment, had to take on the duty of single parenthood. I myself am a product of such an upbringing and though my wife chooses to debate the fact, I believe I turned out to be quite a spectacular product. In a civilization that tells us all that we are self-sufficient and don't need anybody else, nature tells us that we are considerably stronger together than we are alone. In the business world “team work” has been all the rage and we go on and on about the power of teams. In government structures we have a Department of Community development; isn't this underlying truth the same within a home?

Now as a father of four, I try to look beyond my own circumstances and look at the state of fatherhood as a whole. I am sad to say we men as a whole are drastically slacking in that department. Proverbs 27 Vs 8  states “Like a bird that wanders from her nest, So is a man who wanders from his home.” The meaning I took from this was that if a bird wanders from her nest, she exposes herself and her young to danger. Similarly, men who abandon their rightful duties endanger their families and endanger themselves. Whatever the motives are for so many men leaving the house, the impact is apparent. Though I live with my family, I still battle with being an attentive and constantly present father. I just pray that I will be able to strike that balance between over and under parenting.