I love you, Dad.’
I have never tried that Western thing, ‘I love you, Dad.’ It only works in movies. The old man might end up thinking that I have lost his motorbike or sold one of his favorite cows. Yap, it’s different for the African boy child. We’d rather show than tell. A little gesture like roasted meat or quality time dissecting politics goes a long way. Nothing looks a lot like love to the African boy than a refill of a full petrol tank for his bike. It doesn’t mean that we don’t love our Dads, but those words don’t just roll off the tongue.
Even to them, if you do it too much often, they’ll ask you politely to contain yourself. We are African. We believe that love has a certain level of sacredness and is not something to be discussed in public. There is only one way to impress him. Make something out of your life. It will give him something to brag about amongst his peers.
It is common knowledge that the strongest and the most durable sufuria must always be used to cook ugali. No other sufuria can prepare as expertly as this one that has always been in use for years. That thing leaves a delicious crust that peels off after cooking buana. It is abominable and unfathomable to use a different sufuria. Members of the family will agree unanimously that the ugali has deficiency and that the fool has committed culinary terrorism by ruining a good sufuria to make a bad ugali that has lumps. The meal will be uncomfortably consumed amidst rumors, loud deliberate sighs, sarcastic statements, and accusing glances thrown at the shameful culprit.