This is a true life story, and I am sure so many people can attest to this. The issue of abandoned children by their parents is no longer a news, as it is now very common. A friend of mine is going through the most traumatic and difficult period of her life. She only recently got to know that the man she grew up to know as a father is actually not her biological father. Story has it that her mum got pregnant for her dad while they were still very young, but the dad then rejected the pregnancy. My mum told us that she was among the few people who went to meet with the family of the boy then, but were chased away. Few years later the woman married into a very wealthy family here in Nigeria, and relocated to the US of A. The girl has graduated and currently working as a medical Doctor in US. Now the girl is planning to settle down with a Yoruba boy she also met in the US. The plan all along is to have the wedding over there since both families are in the US. Now the girl so called biological father heard about it, and has since been threatening brimstone that nobody can take his place as a father. The girl father's people have be coming to beg the grand parents to forgive the father. The grandparents is asking them to go and seek forgiveness from their daughter and the husband, while the parents in US is asking them to seek forgiveness from the girl. Now the girl in question is saying she doesn't know any other father aside the man she has always grown up to know as father. If you are in the girl's shoe, what will you do. Though I have advised her to forgive the dad, she said she have, but still doesn't know the man as her father.

Simple.... I'll forgive my runaway dad but will never allow him to present himself as my father on my wedding day...... I'll only allow the man that nurtured me till I grow up....even if he joins my runaway dad in begging me and refusing to be the dad, I'll rather go rent dad somewhere else...




I won't allow him reap where he did not sow cos he can't just come out of the blues to come be chairman on my wedding day.

Forgiving is not a problem, you are forgiven even before you asked . As long as you won't be requesting anything from me, in cash or kind, we are good.

airmirthd1:
Simple.... I'll forgive my runaway dad but will never allow him to present himself as my father on my wedding day...... I'll only allow the man that nurtured me till I grow up....even if he joins my runaway dad in begging me and refusing to be the dad, I'll rather go rent dad somewhere else...




I won't allow him reap where he did not sow cos he can't just come out of the blues to come be chairman on my wedding day.

My dear, that is exactly her stand. She said nothing will ever make her accept that man as a father.

The day the man denied the pregnancy was the day he denied all rights to be called her father.

The day he and his family chased away @OP's mum and the mother of the child was the day they chased away any rights / connections to laying claims on the child.

The mother was left to carry her cross alone - and she did a very good job of it. I bet that girl child has done so much better than all of her biological father's kids put together. Now suddenly, after donkey years, he resurfaces like a bad penny with his people to beg and lay "claims"? Would they have suddenly remembered they had a daughter if she hadn't turned out well?

Abeg it's easy to see the motivating factor behind this sudden remembrance is nothing but cold, hard, $$$.

Sure, she and her mom should "forgive" him and his lot, but it ends there. Her biological father remains nothing but a sperm donor.

Her step-father stepped up and upped his game as a man when needed most. For his unending sweat and toil towards the girl and her mother, he wholly deserves the exclusive title of being called her "real father". She's right in saying he is the only father she's known. She doesn't know her biological father from Adam.

It is what it is, and he should accept it or take a flying hike.

he was only a sperm donor, since he wasnt around to take up his responsibilities then whoever took up his role nd position as d father wil represent on dat wedding day.
na to hire mayweather's bouncers on dat day if he shows up but i will surely forgive him.

realtalk19:
he was only a sperm donor, since he wasnt around to take up his responsibilities then whoever took up his role nd position as d father wil represent on dat wedding day.
na to hire mayweather's bouncers on dat day if he shows up but i will surely forgive him.

You got me laughing with this word. Na to hire mayweather bouncers on that day.

Siena:
I can, and I did.

A picture of my dad. Try imagining Peter Edochie in terms of appearance, with the stern, no-nonsense temperament and character of Okonkwo in Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, and you've got my dad.

My dad began cheating on my mom whilst I was in my early teens. When we lost our money in a car crash, he pretty much moved in with this woman, he would be gone for days on end, while myself and my kid sister would be starving at home, we survived by eating with our landlord's family.

When I was in a private Boarding School in Benin-City, on visiting days, I would be the student who had no visitors. I would lie to my friends that my dad was out of the country, to cover up my embarrassment.

This new woman wielded great influence over my dad, and she hated us kids. I could not understand how a man I looked up to could abandon his family. He began to beat me too at the slightest provocation, I don't mean corrective / punishment with a cane. I mean physically with his fists, feet, anything he could get his hands on, something he'd never done. I remember once when he was giving me a telling off, due to something his girlfriend had said. He stopped talking, and thinking he was done, I began walking away. The next thing my dad did was roar at me.

"Don't you walk away when I'm talking to you boy!"

I turned round and was just in time to see the dining chair descending towards my head. I only just managed to put my arm up, and the chair smashed onto my left shoulder with enough force to shatter the chair, and my left arm went numb. I ran out of the house.

I was due to return to my country of birth in 1990, after 3 years of hardly spending time with my dad. My half brother on my mom's side organised my return. His upbringing was very different - he is well known in politics, Ovie Omo-Agege, and he was pretty influential even back then.

On the night before I was due to leave Nigeria for good, myself and my brother travelled down from Lagos where I'd been staying to Benin-City, to see my dad in our family home. I hadn't seen my dad for some months. I remember my brother telling him that Siena was leaving, it was all arranged. And for the first time, I saw my dad cry. My big, strong dad who ruled his household with a rod of iron crying! I couldn't understand it, and I asked him why.

"Dad, why are you crying?"

My dad wiped his eyes, and blew his nose in his handkerchief, and attempted a smile.

"It's alright son, I just have a feeling I'm never going to see you again."

I looked at my dad, and suddenly he was no longer the big, strong brute who'd abandoned his kids when they needed him most, that beat me senseless at will. He was just an old man, my dad. And at this moment, I forgave him, and I gave him a hug.

"Of course you will, dad. Wherever I am, I'll always be your son."

My dad hugged me back, I wasn't to know this, but this would be the last time I would ever see my dad alive.


Another time, another place...

I had settled back in the UK, but I did not forget my father. I kept in regular contact, writing a letter a week, sending the old blue air letter card "Par Avion". It was afterall 1990. My father responded diligently too. I wrote how much I missed him, and I would really love him to come to spend time with me. He responded he wouldn't mind that, and as he was retiring soon, he was looking forward to spending the rest of his years with me (he had now broken up with his wife, whom he'd gotten married to).

I began making arrangements to get my dad over. Then suddenly, his letters stopped. I wrote several times, I even contacted our old neighbours, but they could tell me nothing. My dad had moved recently. I was now worried sick.

Then as suddenly as the letters stopped coming from my dad in Nigeria, they started coming. I remember receiving 5 in a month, and I read the reason my dad had stopped contact. He had been ill, he explained, and had had a minor operation. I was concerned, wondering what had been so badly wrong that had called for an operation. My dad brushed aside my concerns.

"Ah, it was nothing, a minor procedure, I'm getting older, nothing to worry about."

I tried to get an idea of his mood through his writing, to see if he was lying to me least I worried too much (I WAS worried though). Getting older? What exactly did this mean?

4 months later, this would be around February 1991, the letters stopped again. And this time, I was more worried than ever, I just had this sense of foreboding that I couldn't shake off. Each time the phone rang, I dreaded answering it.

A month later, the call I had been dreading came, it was my elder sister.

"Siena?" Her voice sounded strained, and very far away.

I gripped the receiver tightly, and pressed it closer to my ear. I moved as far as the cord would allow, and sat down on the floor. My host's looked curiously at me, took the hint and they all left the room.

"Siena?" My sister spoke once more, as I hadn't said a word.

"Hey sis, how's it going?"

Even to me, my jovial tones sounded forced, not fitting for what I knew deep down was coming. My sister had never been one to skirt round issues, and this time was no different. She came straight to the point.

"Dad's dead, Siena. He passed away yesterday evening."

Even though I had sort of expected it, this news still came as a shock. Dad dead?! My strong, decisive and for the most part, dependable dad was dead?

"How did he die?"

There was a long pause, I thought the connection had been broken. My sister spoke clearly and bluntly.

"Cancer. Stomach. He'd been fighting it for almost a year. He had an operation last year, but it had spread too far. It was just a matter of time." My sister paused. "Dad said we shouldn't tell you, that you had your exams, and besides, there was nothing you could do. There was nothing anyone could do."

I slowly replaced the phone. My hands were shaking so much, I dropped the receiver. I retrieved it, and placed it on its cradle.

I got to my feet, walked over to the window, and stared down onto the children's play area with unseeing eyes. I thought back to my father, how he had been in our early life when we first relocated to Nigeria, how he had loved his family, and his eventual decline, when he'd gotten involved with his mistress. I thought back to my last vision of him, when we'd embraced in our family home in Benin-City, and his last words. It was like he knew the end was near, and this was his goodbye. He knew he was never going to make it to England to live with me, he was simply humouring me so I would not worry, thereby disrupting my studies.

My father's last act of love to his son, and I am really glad I forgave him, do he did not die thinking I hated him. I would have ended up full of regret, and what would I have told my kids? I still have his passport, which I had renewed in preparation to him relocating back to the UK.

I miss my dad.

Touching

No matter what anyone does to us, we have to be a ble to forgive,therefore remains rapturable.

It is difficult to say since I have not been in such a situation but I know that I can forgive a lot since I can understand even more.
I also know that forgiveness serves the one who forgives more than the one who is forgiven so I always try to forgive people as quickly as possible.

What bothers me in this story however is the entitlement mentality that biological father and his family display. Now that he heard that his daughter is doing quite well in the US of A, he thinks he has the right to come to the wedding? Why not ask the girl for forgiveness and wish her well without demanding anything, which he has no right to demand of her.

My advice to the girl would be as follows:

Forgive if you can. Don't forgive if you can't. In any case, your father is the one who raised you so cherish him by giving him the place he deserves and enjoy your wedding preparations and your wedding and your marriage. Your biological father has no right to participate in your wedding if you feel that he will cause people to feel uncomfortable, which he possibly will.

You can forgive without inviting him but you don't have to forgive him at all if you don't feel like forgiving him.

Mindfulness:
It is difficult to say since I have not been in such a situation but I know that I can forgive a lot since I can understand even more.
I also know that forgiveness serves the one who forgives more than the one who is forgiven so I always try to forgive people as quickly as possible.

What bothers me in this story however is the entitlement mentality that biological father and his family display. Now that he heard that his daughter is doing quite well in the US of A, he thinks he has the right to come to the wedding? Why not ask the girl for forgiveness and wish her well without demanding anything, which he has no right to demand of her.

My advice to the girl would be as follows:

Forgive if you can. Don't forgive if you can't. In any case, your father is the one who raised you so cherish him by giving him the place he deserves and enjoy your wedding preparations and your wedding and your marriage. Your biological father has no right to participate in your wedding if you feel that he will cause people to feel uncomfortable, which he possibly will.

You can forgive without inviting him but you don't have to forgive him at all if you don't feel like forgiving him.

My dear, it is this entitlement mentality that is driving my friend crazy and to think that he saying no one can take his place, forgetting that he left his place for another to occupy for over 23years.

yvelchstores:
No matter what anyone does to us, we have to be a ble to forgive,therefore remains rapturable.

The thing is, she saying she has forgiven the man, but can never see him as a father. Again, it is easier said than done.

Siena.

Your story is different. Your father never abandoned you from conception, unlike the lady in this story. You had the chance to bond with you dad as a child, she didn't. While your mum was alive, you did manage to forge a solid foundation of love with your dad - and that never went away, even when your dad went astray with his mistress.

It was that solid foundation that eventually brought you together again. So your situation is very different from this lady's. She's got no memory of him, no foundation, nothing to build upon. He's just a random stranger who happens to be her biological father and that's as far as the link between them goes.

Sorry for your loss though bro. It is well.

(((hugs)))

onoslove:
The thing is, she saying she has forgiven the man, but can never see him as a father. Again, it is easier said than done.

Re: the bolded is not an issue.

She doesn't know him. So it's not a question of easy or difficult. Infact, it's not even an issue.

onoslove:
My dear, it is this entitlement mentality that is driving my friend crazy and to think that he saying no one can take his place, forgetting that he left his place for another to occupy for over 23years.

Perfectly understandable but she should not allow him to drive her crazy. Ignore him and his family. They are far away. Ignore their calls, letters, emails, block them on facebook. Why bother?

It took me a while but I did forgive, in my own case, it was my mum, she left the country when I was barely 2 and I met her when I was 16, it was hard, I didn't know aw to love her or forgive but I did because I knew I had to for my own sake, after all, she gave me the greatest gift of all.... LIFE.

He gave away all his rights as a father. So yeah forgive him but he still remains on his level. The only father she owes any loyalty is the one that took care of her. The sperm donor has no right to give her away at her wedding, with what authority when he had no in raising her.

Forgiveness does not mean you won't face the consequences. The consequences of his actions is that he has lost the privileges a real father would be given. Instead for him to be begging to even be invited he dares to demand to be the one to walk her down the aisle

People allowing these irresponsible men to come back and dictate that they suddenly want to be treated as Daddy are the reasons these men keep shunning their responsibilities. I've heard many men say what's the big deal, your children will still come back to you in the end especially when they want to marry. Rubbish, it's even an insult to th person who stepped up and raise on to go and bring one sperm donor to play father of the bride

One question she keeps asking me is, what about if the mum had aborted the pregnancy or she grew up to became a nuisance to the society, would the father have been bold enough to come out and stand as a father.

Siena:
I can, and I did.

A picture of my dad. Try imagining Peter Edochie in terms of appearance, with the stern, no-nonsense temperament and character of Okonkwo in Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart, and you've got my dad.

My dad began cheating on my mom whilst I was in my early teens. When we lost our mom in a car crash, he pretty much moved in with this woman, he would be gone for days on end, while myself and my kid sister would be starving at home, we survived by eating with our landlord's family.

When I was in a private Boarding School in Benin-City, on visiting days, I would be the student who had no visitors. I would lie to my friends that my dad was out of the country, to cover up my embarrassment.

This new woman wielded great influence over my dad, and she hated us kids. I could not understand how a man I looked up to could abandon his family. He began to beat me too at the slightest provocation, I don't mean corrective / punishment with a cane. I mean physically with his fists, feet, anything he could get his hands on, something he'd never done. I remember once when he was giving me a telling off, due to something his girlfriend had said. He stopped talking, and thinking he was done, I began walking away. The next thing my dad did was roar at me.

"Don't you walk away when I'm talking to you boy!"

I turned round and was just in time to see the dining chair descending towards my head. I only just managed to put my arm up, and the chair smashed onto my left shoulder with enough force to shatter the chair, and my left arm went numb. I ran out of the house.

I was due to return to my country of birth in 1990, after 3 years of hardly spending time with my dad. My half brother on my mom's side organised my return. His upbringing was very different - he is well known in politics, Ovie Omo-Agege, and he was pretty influential even back then.

On the night before I was due to leave Nigeria for good, myself and my brother travelled down from Lagos where I'd been staying to Benin-City, to see my dad in our family home. I hadn't seen my dad for some months. I remember my brother telling him that Siena was leaving, it was all arranged. And for the first time, I saw my dad cry. My big, strong dad who ruled his household with a rod of iron crying! I couldn't understand it, and I asked him why.

"Dad, why are you crying?"

My dad wiped his eyes, and blew his nose in his handkerchief, and attempted a smile.

"It's alright son, I just have a feeling I'm never going to see you again."

I looked at my dad, and suddenly he was no longer the big, strong brute who'd abandoned his kids when they needed him most, that beat me senseless at will. He was just an old man, my dad. And at this moment, I forgave him, and I gave him a hug.

"Of course you will, dad. Wherever I am, I'll always be your son."

My dad hugged me back, I wasn't to know this, but this would be the last time I would ever see my dad alive.


Another time, another place...

I had settled back in the UK, but I did not forget my father. I kept in regular contact, writing a letter a week, sending the old blue air letter card "Par Avion". It was afterall 1990. My father responded diligently too. I wrote how much I missed him, and I would really love him to come to spend time with me. He responded he wouldn't mind that, and as he was retiring soon, he was looking forward to spending the rest of his years with me (he had now broken up with his wife, whom he'd gotten married to).

I began making arrangements to get my dad over. Then suddenly, his letters stopped. I wrote several times, I even contacted our old neighbours, but they could tell me nothing. My dad had moved recently. I was now worried sick.

Then as suddenly as the letters stopped coming from my dad in Nigeria, they started coming. I remember receiving 5 in a month, and I read the reason my dad had stopped contact. He had been ill, he explained, and had had a minor operation. I was concerned, wondering what had been so badly wrong that had called for an operation. My dad brushed aside my concerns.

"Ah, it was nothing, a minor procedure, I'm getting older, nothing to worry about."

I tried to get an idea of his mood through his writing, to see if he was lying to me least I worried too much (I WAS worried though). Getting older? What exactly did this mean?

4 months later, this would be around February 1991, the letters stopped again. And this time, I was more worried than ever, I just had this sense of foreboding that I couldn't shake off. Each time the phone rang, I dreaded answering it.

A month later, the call I had been dreading came, it was my elder sister.

"Siena?" Her voice sounded strained, and very far away.

I gripped the receiver tightly, and pressed it closer to my ear. I moved as far as the cord would allow, and sat down on the floor. My host's looked curiously at me, took the hint and they all left the room.

"Siena?" My sister spoke once more, as I hadn't said a word.

"Hey sis, how's it going?"

Even to me, my jovial tones sounded forced, not fitting for what I knew deep down was coming. My sister had never been one to skirt round issues, and this time was no different. She came straight to the point.

"Dad's dead, Siena. He passed away yesterday evening."

Even though I had sort of expected it, this news still came as a shock. Dad dead?! My strong, decisive and for the most part, dependable dad was dead?

"How did he die?"

There was a long pause, I thought the connection had been broken. My sister spoke clearly and bluntly.

"Cancer. Stomach. He'd been fighting it for almost a year. He had an operation last year, but it had spread too far. It was just a matter of time." My sister paused. "Dad said we shouldn't tell you, that you had your exams, and besides, there was nothing you could do. There was nothing anyone could do."

I slowly replaced the phone. My hands were shaking so much, I dropped the receiver. I retrieved it, and placed it on its cradle.

I got to my feet, walked over to the window, and stared down onto the children's play area with unseeing eyes. I thought back to my father, how he had been in our early life when we first relocated to Nigeria, how he had loved his family, and his eventual decline, when he'd gotten involved with his mistress. I thought back to my last vision of him, when we'd embraced in our family home in Benin-City, and his last words. It was like he knew the end was near, and this was his goodbye. He knew he was never going to make it to England to live with me, he was simply humouring me so I would not worry, thereby disrupting my studies.

My father's last act of love to his son, and I am really glad I forgave him, so he did not die thinking I hated him. I would have ended up full of regret, and what would I have told my kids? I still have his passport, which I had renewed in preparation to him relocating back to the UK.

I miss my dad.

Touching and soothing. Thanks for this wonderful story you have shared.

onoslove:
You got me laughing with this word. Na to hire mayweather bouncers on that day.

lol.but on a serious note he cant mess up my day