Pulling on the Heartstrings of a Dad


I smile, I laugh, I have fun generally. Outgoing, constant teaser (not emotional and tearful) are elements of my psyche.

The news for the past few years has been tearing me down little by little. My emotional side has been reborn. The question is, where is all this coming from?

As a young dad, everything about my son brings me joy. I can vividly recall his entry into our world, his first smile, his first look at the world, his first cry, his first steps, his first constant babble in an unknown language that Dad can only pretend he understands.

These experiences have taught me a lot. There is nothing in this world I would give up for what my son has done for me. This brings me to the gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, continuous decline of the moral fabric of mothers, fathers and society on the whole: there is no letup in the news reel identifying the atrocities that are being inflicted on the vulnerable young.

You would expect the joy and love embodied in an infant to bring people closer together; after all, that is how it all started. The ability to increase one’s progeny, the anticipation of the birth and the development of a child are so unique, we would expect everyone to glow like a peenie wallie in amazement. How can a mother take the life of a child? How can a father abuse, molest and murder his own? How can family members and the community sit by and do nothing? Why is it that our politicians and others in authority are seen as reactive instead of proactive? When will this cycle end?

The latest incident of the brutal murder of a grandmother and the abduction of a baby appears to be just a footnote in the days of our lives. The outcry from these many incidents has grown dimmer. Where will it all end? I am happier today to hear the news that the child has been found. I am not sure what went through the minds of the abductors, but I am happy to see the child alive and seemingly well — albeit physically. I can only pray that the brutal slaying of his grandmother is not etched in his mind. There is some satisfaction for the family in the midst of despair and grief.

Sadly, I can only wait for the next newscast to remind me that it’s not over. The story has not been completed. It will happen again. I can only pray that as a society we will take the necessary steps to renew and repair our consciousness. The love we espouse must not only be defined in words but also expressed in actions. As parents, families, communities and a nation, let’s renew our commitment to love and cherish the young among us. Let’s prepare ourselves to be true role models to guide their path in this world.

Out of many, we are one. Let’s live it, experience it, promote it and order it in our lives. Love works no ill to his neighbour.


A wandering mind within the realm of life.