It was another evening that promised a fresh round of loneliness—a companion that had long remained his closest ally. The man sat down on the sofa in his bedroom, his mind racing in different directions. He was drained of energy and coordination, and with his head bowed, tears flowed freely and almost ceaselessly. He sighed, took a deep breath, looked up, and was blinded by tears that spoke volumes about the struggles and pent-up worries he had carried for years on end. He shook his head and buried his face in his hands as the tears kept flowing, mourning the fate that had befallen him. He was agonising over the forlorn hope of retiring from public service to spend the rest of his life in peace. But there he was, lonely and lonesome, overwhelmed by the pain of virtually losing everything that mattered in his life, because apparently everyone he called family was now a distant fading reality.
This is an enhanced story of a man whose children—all of whom he put through university—have all but abandoned, except for just one: his second child, who has shown that he still has a father. His wife is alive and living in one of his houses. All the children pay her due regard and reach out as often as they want. Yet, she has spent years at war with the man she still calls her husband. Bad as this is, the worst part of the situation is that she has so demonised him before the children that all but one have joined her side of the marital conflict.
There are many stories like this one, with varying colors and contours. Most of the time, children side with their mothers whenever married couples have issues, allowing themselves to be dragged into matters that belong strictly to the adults. But this should not be. Parents, being individuals with different personalities, will occasionally have misunderstandings or clashes, but mature couples do not bring their children—at whatever age—into them. If they still wish to stay together, they should pray, seek counsel, and strike compromises to move forward without tearing their homes apart.
Curiously, the same children who abandon their parents for whatever reason are often the ones who emerge from their islands of isolation to put on a show when the parents die, all in the name of giving them a “befitting burial.” These days, we encounter phrases like: Dad or Mum Goes Home in a Blaze of Glory; Adieu, Mama or Papa; or Celebration of Life as Papa or Mama Goes Home! Oh, really?
It has become a fad. You walk into the funeral venue of a deceased person who had some means while alive and wonder how we so swiftly celebrate the death of our loved ones as if we were saying, mmẹ ẹnyẹ aka oro (good riddance to bad rubbish).
At some of these burial events, you find elaborate decorations with flowers, buntings, platforms, banners, photos of the deceased, expensive caskets, pallbearers in resplendent outfits, beautifully packaged programmes, music, uniforms, and you name it. When and for what purpose is all this razzmatazz? The iconoclast is left to wonder: are they celebrating the life or death of the deceased? Curiously, even some poor families try to copy this lifestyle by overtaxing themselves, leasing, or selling off scarce property just to meet societal expectations.
Before you misunderstand me, reread my opening paragraph and find the connection to this. I am not advocating shoddy burials; I am not advocating disrespect for the dead. Rather, I am taking issue with people who abandon the living only to put on a show when they die. For me, it makes no sense to celebrate death at the expense of life. Only terrorists who blow themselves up in the name of fighting a satanic cause do something remotely similar.
Our elders may not be perfect by modern definitions, but if parents raise children, see them through school or vocational training, and those children stand firmly on their own two feet, it amounts to a dereliction of duty not to show those parents some love in their twilight years. You don’t have to listen to the lies of self-styled prophets who like exerting control over their audiences with stories that every trouble you encounter is caused by owo nkpatiañ ukot (one from your bloodline).
Yes, real spiritual adversaries exist, but if your parents were your enemies, how come they didn’t destroy you as a child? How come they raised you to a point where you can now cater for yourself instead of killing you beforehand? Do you ever think of the comeuppance that awaits you from your own children? Do you ever consider that what you do to your own parents is the seed you are sowing for your own harvest?
Your parents may not have done much for you, but most of them try their hardest to protect their offspring. They might have hurt you deeply. Of course, there are parents like that: uncaring, insensitive, selfish, and even wicked. But the reality remains that they are still your parents. In old age, many are already regretting their failures as parents; many are already struggling with geriatric accompaniments, and declining resources. You, their children, don’t need to make it worse for them. In one word, the burden of old age is already excruciating enough.
Now, the year is about to end. If you still have elderly parents—regardless of their economic status—do you have any plans for them, or are you spending your resources on so-called spiritual fathers at the expense of your own biological parents? Are you keeping your distance because you are afraid they will bewitch you? If so, what is the value of your churchgoing or religious group affiliations? Why go celebrate their exit when you abandoned their stay?
Lest we forget, sometimes it takes less energy, fewer resources, and less time to care for the living than for the dead.
If we value the investment and labours of our parents in getting us to where we are, it is only wise to show them deep care, especially in their waning years.
No parent worth the name should demonise their spouse before their children for any reason. Any short-term gains we assume we are making will carry long-lasting pain. The words of our elders are relevant here, and we would do well to heed them: ema efre ntak, ntak otogho (When a source is forgotten, it takes umbrage). If you live your life insulting your parents or elders and yet hope to live long on Mother Earth, then may your wish come true. But what you do to those folks is what you will have back in abundance.
