Poet warrior's Blog: Poems, articles and musings.
I’d always wanted a daughter. I love my son completely and am thankful for his presence in my life and the learning that I get from being his father. However I’d always imagined a relationship with a daughter would be different, easier in some ways and challenging in others.
Someone to light up my life and make it even more joyful than it is.
It’s only recently that I’ve begun to wonder if it’s not a good thing that I don’t have a daughter of my own. After the disappearance of over 200 girls in Nigeria and looking at the world stage how would I explain to her?
That yes, in parts of the world there are people who kill their unborn children when they realise that their family would be cursed (as they’d see it) by the presence of a daughter.
That yes, in parts of the world there are people who treat and by inference love their daughters less because one day they’ll leave their parent’s home to start a life of their own.
That yes, in parts of the world men think that it’s OK to rape and kill little girls because they are of a different, caste, creed or race.
That yes, in parts of the world men think that it’s OK to kidnap and either kill or sell little girls because their beliefs tell them that it’s ok to do so.
That yes, violence and abuse against females can be so common that the world media can deem the disappearance of over 200 girls as less than newsworthy after a month and not even wonder.
And the list could go on...
How would I explain to her that the colour of those people’s skin if it was shown by the media would more likely be similar to ours than others in the land where we live?
How do I tell her that even though these things happen they don’t happen to people like us who live in modern countries, or do they?
How do I tell her that at times it feels like over 200 young lives are worth less because those lives were living in Africa even though they would have fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters and friends who are longing for their return?
And the list could go on…
I suppose that she would ask me what I was doing about it and what we could do about it.
I could tell her that there are organisations that are helping in the search.
I could tell her that we can pray for them and all the others who have been taken from their homes to be returned.
I could tell her that we can remember them and remind others of them in the hope that they are returned.
I could offer her hope that one day they will be returned.
And the list could go on…
As a man and a parent I don’t think I’ve ever felt so helpless and sad about my not having a daughter and for all those other mothers and fathers who even having daughters don’t know where they are.
At the very least I would hug her and hold her (my imaginary daughter) until we both felt less sad about what is happening in the world and to our mothers, sisters and daughters.