I was quite young when I began questioning the absence of my father. Our residence was in a compound house where each household had a man overseeing its affairs. However, ours was an exception, as we lacked a male figure. My only companion was my mother, whom I observed venturing to the market early in the morning and returning late at night.
In the afternoons following my return from school, I would accompany my mother to the market. It became a routine for me to have my lunch and complete my homework there. As evening approached, I assisted her in packing all the goods into the warehouse before we made our way home from the market. My mother was my sole provider, and together, we formed a two-person team.
However, despite the support, I felt a sense of incompleteness. Observing the dynamics in neighboring households, I yearned for a male presence in our home. At school, my peers shared stories about their fathers: “My father bought me this and that,” or “My father took me to this place and that place.” When it came to my turn to speak, I……Read Full Story Here………….
