Back when I was a child 
My father would lift me high 
Spin me around till I fell asleep 
Then up the stairs he would carry me 
And I knew for sure I was loved 

If I could get another chance 
Another walk, another dance with him 
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love to dance with my father again 

Christian Cornelius Wentum – The Bestest-Best Dad in the Whole World

This song by Luther Vandross, ‘Dance with my Father Again’, captures the love and respect I have (it actually should be ‘had’) for my father, the late Christian Cornelius Wentum. Of course, I had no stairs in my house; neither do I remember him carrying me to bed; nor can I say I was given money when my mum and I had a disagreement. (Most likely, I would receive a knock for daring to argue with my mom.) But it is the spirit of the song that matters – love, respect, discipline and loving memories. That is the theme of this piece.

My father was a chubby person with a ‘well-structured’ pot belly. During his old age, he spotted a white flowing beard. He kept his hair bushy and I took the ‘privilege’, every now and then, of plaiting his hair for him. Of course, he never left it on for more than ten seconds.

Daddy defined for me how I should deal with others. If the person is elderly, respect the person; one day, you’ll also reach that age. If the person is young, see if there is anything new to learn. As for your peers and family, keep them close and love them.

Daddy gave me my first encounter with the power of the printing press and I’ve been in love with the press ever since. Little wonder I ended up setting up a press when I grew up.

Daddy taught me the value of looking after your parents when you grow up. He used to send provisions and food to his mother and guess who sometimes did the carrying. (My mum had “taken care” of her parents (they had both passed away) so we visited her aunts)

The relationship my parents shared has guided me in my own marriage. – Never forget to appreciate each other. When you disagree, don’t say words that will hurt long after the quarrel is over. Even when you disagree with a course of action, present a united front to the outside world.

He used to say,“Sister, a good name is better than riches.”  (Personal branding and reputational equity) “I have been young but now I’m old. But I have not seen a righteous man forsaken nor his seed begging for bread.” (Faith. This usually meant we were hard up. I remember hearing that a lot during the 1983 food crises in Ghana.) “A good man leaves an inheritance for his children and his children’s children.” (Legacy; my parents gave me the best legacy ever – faith in God, self-belief and a great education)

I remember once at 15 when I thought I had come of age, I was standing outside the gate with another hormone-filled young gentleman. This sage called me in and said: “You know, any boy worth his salt will come into the house and sit inside the house with you. He will not meet you outside the gate. Those who insist on seeing you outside your house are not worthy of you.”

One day, my father said to me: “Sister, never marry a man with two wives.* When he tells you he’ll take you to London, he’ll tell the other one he’ll take her to Britain. A promise of a trip to France for you will result in one to Paris for your rival. ”

(Daddy, I heeded your advice. I wish you had the opportunity to meet Albert and the children. They are wonderful. You would have been happy with your son and your grandchildren. You would also have been proud of the strides all your children are making in various spheres of life.)

Daddy believed in sharing whatever he had with anyone in need. He was not the type to send anyone away. It even became more pronounced when he assumed the role of the head of the extended family. We had cousins, aunts and uncles coming to our house with all sorts of issues. I remember referring to him as King Solomon as he attempted to settle one dispute or the other, listening with infinite patience as both parties insisted on how right their side of the story was.

Dad’s leadership skills were exemplary. He insisted on leading from the front and never asked us to do anything he wasn’t prepared to do even in his advanced age. I remember him serving actively and chairing various committees in our local church.

Daddy was the first to encourage me to speak publicly. He got us involved in reading the Bible in church sometimes. I had to rehearse the scripture reading over and over again at home before I went to church. Sometimes, I knew the script by heart by Sunday.

I also remember going round with him to Abokobi, La, Akropong and various other Presbyterian churches to provide moral support as he preached the word. The memory of the old lay preacher pounding out his sermon notes on his manual Olivetti typewriter will stay with me forever. I knew when I was growing up that I had one serious prayer warrior interceding for me asking God to keep my siblings and I safe. (I loved watching his potbelly rise and fall gently with his arms folded in prayer. He had fallen asleep during his prayers.)

During my last encounter with Daddy, I had come home from university to meet him feeling unwell. He had moved from his bedroom to the front bedroom. I went in and we spoke for some time. I made a mental note that when I returned the next weekend, I would spend more time reading his Bible and talking to him. It was not to be.

If I could have one final chance,
One final chance to read the Bible to him
I’ll read it over and over and over and over and over …

I loved my Dad. I miss him! I miss him even more every Father’s day. I wish there was some way I could talk to him. Just to tell him how much I love him and how much I miss him after nearly 30 years since he’d passed.

He always said that when he went to heaven; the only instrument he’ll like to play was the piccolo.  I believe he is the one on the piccolo glorifying God and worshipping him.

I know God made his carbon copy when he made my Dad.  I had the “bestest-best” Dad in the whole wide world. He was kind, gentle, prayerful, portly (almost like Father Christmas when you add his white beard), hospitable, full of wisdom, a disciplinarian and very accommodating. Sorry if you didn’t notice these qualities if you had the opportunity to deal with my Dad. I’m totally biased and that’s the way it will stay.

To all the fathers, (biological or non-biological)  your children need you. You need to provide them with support, unconditional but tough love, encouragement, a role model and above all, a shelter from the vicissitudes of life. Even though children may not show their appreciation now, they will eventually. I know sometimes, it seems like an unrewarding task. But trust me, thirty years down the line, you’ll appreciate the role you played in shaping the destiny of one young lad or lass. God bless you for deciding to make a difference in a young person’s life. You’re a winner.

Happy Father’s Day

*polygamy is still practised in Ghana