#50PlusDad Reflections

I write #50PlusDad on Mondays.

Last Monday, I could not write. I had been on the road: Port Harcourt to Lagos, Lagos to Kano, Kano to Abuja, with different engagements and meetings in between.

It has been tough.

I could not post yesterday either. That made it the second Monday in a row. I had already considered leaving it till next week, but I also asked myself: if it is still possible to write it this week, why should I not write it?

So, better late than never.

This week has been surreal for me. I came to understand the impact of a father’s absence in the home in a way I probably would not have understood if I had not experienced it personally.

Let me make this clear from the beginning: I am not of the school of thought that fathers are more important than mothers.

Both parents are critical to the development of a child.

Fathers have a role.

Mothers have a role.

Their roles are unique, important, and not interchangeable in every respect. The ideal is that both father and mother should be present in the life of the child and build meaningful relationships with that child.

A child comes from a man and a woman for a reason. That means the nurturing of the child should be the responsibility of both parents. None should be absent from the life of the child.

In this reflection, however, I am speaking particularly about fathers because I am writing from my own experience as a father.

I also believe that husbands and fathers are heads of their homes. But headship is not superiority. Headship is responsibility. The purpose of leadership in the home is order, not oppression. A father’s presence should bring order, stability, direction, and assurance.

But leadership without support is incomplete.

The father cannot do it alone.

The mother cannot do it alone.

The home requires teamwork. Leadership is responsibility. Teamwork is the support structure that helps leadership fulfil its purpose.

That said, I have been away from home for a while. Away from my wife. Away from my son.

And my absence took a toll, particularly on my son.

We are quite close.

When he was born, I resumed travelling about three months after. But as he grew older, I felt the need to step back from frequent travelling so I could bond more with him. At different times, I kept him out of daycare just to spend more time with him, especially when he was not feeling well.

We bonded deeply.

We play.

We joke.

We roll on the floor.

I call him by his playful name, and he responds in his own playful way.

So, before I travelled, I sat him down and explained that I would be away for a while and would return. He even saw me off to the airport and said he wanted to go with me.

I thought he understood.

But his interpretation was different.

His mother later called me and said he had gone to school and told his teacher:

“My daddy has moved out of the house.”

That was his interpretation of my absence.

That statement touched me deeply.

I had called him almost every day since I travelled, but those calls did not fully replace the kind of physical bond we share. To him, my absence meant something more than travel. In his young mind, he was probably asking: where is this man? Has he left? Am I still loved? Am I still important?

He may not have the language to say all of that, but children feel deeply before they can explain clearly.

To children, love often means two things:

Appreciation and attention.

When my physical presence was no longer available in the way he had known it, he felt that attention had been withdrawn. It affected his behaviour. It affected his disposition. It affected his emotional regulation.

That was the lesson for me.

The absence of either parent can have a grave impact on a child. In this case, I am speaking as a father, so I am focusing on the father’s absence. But the truth remains: parental absence can be devastating for children.

When his mother told me what he said, I asked myself whether I should cancel everything and return home immediately. She encouraged me to complete what I had to do, but I cannot wait to see him again.

This experience has taught me again that technology is helpful, but it is not enough.

Video calls are good.

Phone calls are good.

Messages are good.

But presence is different.

Physical presence carries weight.

Children do not only need provision. They need connection. They need attention. They need assurance. They need the consistent experience of being seen, heard, valued, and loved.

This does not mean I will stop travelling completely. But it does mean I must reevaluate how I travel at this stage of his life. It means I must explain things better. It means I must be more deliberate about preparing him emotionally for my absence and reconnecting intentionally when I return.

The lesson is clear to me:

Our presence is critical to the healthy growth and development of our children. Our absence carries consequences we may not immediately see.

Years ago, in our office, we were dealing with about twelve women whose husbands had left home. We were working to see how those families could be restored, or at least how the fathers could remain available to their children.

At the time, I understood the issue intellectually.

Now, I see it more deeply.

So, this is my admonition to every father and to every parent:

No matter what happens, be there for your children.

If a relationship becomes unsafe or your life is threatened, I am not saying you should remain in danger because of the children. No. Safety matters. But even then, work out a plan that allows your children to still experience your love, your attention, and your presence in a healthy and safe way.

Do not disappear from your child’s life.

Do not allow conflict with the other parent to become abandonment of the child.

Do not punish children for adult complications.

Children need love.

And to children, love is not an abstract idea.

Love is attention.

Love is appreciation.

Love is presence.

This week, my son reminded me again that fatherhood is not a title. It is not just provision. It is not merely biological. It is active, emotional, relational, and intentional.

A father’s presence matters.

A mother’s presence matters.

A child needs both parents, as much as possible, to be present, responsible, loving, and available.

As a 50 plus dad, I am still learning.

And this week, my son became my teacher.