I am Daddy’s Girl. Even with my age now on third floor, I am unapologetic about it. I will always be Daddy’s Girl.
This is why. I grew up surrounded by the images of a loving and a caring father. My father always held my little hand, affirmed me and urged me on. This built my self-esteem and confidence.
After school, he would join me to check on my homework and he always found the time to assist. He would later take me through dictation, where I picked up new vocabulary. This developed my language.
As a little girl, my father did not hesitate to affirm me. He was the first person to inform me how that little pretty flowered dress looked on me on every Christmas Day. This was matched with a new pair of shoes and a party to boot. Those are memories that I still treasure to date.
He made me feel like a princess in a village where not so many fathers valued their daughters at the time. With this, he had crowned me. He had placed a high value in me that no one can take. He told me of how precious I was and he moulded me and branded me as 'Mwiitu wa Mwalimu' (teacher’s daughter) inside out in a way that no one else could.
My father made me believe that as Mwololo’s daughter, I was not expected to behave like any other ordinary girl in the village. This shaped my personal values and with this, he had placed the bar high for me.
This conditioned my mind to positivity, ideals that I still have today. I believe that a positive mind yields positive actions, positive habits and positive results. It is because of him that I have seen the power of a positive mind.
It is because of my father that I fell in love with creative writing. You remember the Moses series? The books Moses on the Move, Moses the Camper …. Hmmm… Moses and Mildred and the rest? Yes, my father got me the entire series, one book at a time while in primary school. Then he would ask a few questions to ascertain that I have read and comprehended well. Being an English and literature teacher, he knew what to ask to confirm if I had indeed read them.
When I joined secondary school, he would get me Sydney Sheldon books, one at a time.
My father never missed a newspaper. I grew up and saw him reading no other newspaper but the Daily Nation . I would read his old newspapers and that is how I fell in love with newsprint.
And as soon as the Young Nation was born, my father transformed me into a reader of the Young Nation . My first newspaper article was published by the Young Nation when I was in Form Two. That article was more than the award that I had received from the language and literature department for a creative composition that I had penned. It made me feel like a star. It is one of my highly treasured pieces since it proved to me that I could actually get published.
I owe all this to my father. The man who taught me how to hold my Hero Pen - a fountain pen - to perfect my handwriting and grammar.
My father is in his sixties now, and he still savours reading the Daily Nation, though he spends most of his time reading
It is the first thing that he reads when he wakes up at 5am for his early morning worship session and late at night before he retires to bed.
This saw me grow up with dreams to become a writer, though at some point I admired the glamour that lawyers had when I watched them on television.
I remember, after high school, telling him that I wanted to study law at university.
I told him of how lawyers were powerful, eloquent and highly placed in society. Then he reminded me of how gifted I was in writing. This in a way rekindled my old flames with the pen.
As I joined university I knew where I belonged and it did not take me long before I identified with the student newspaper. I owe it all to my father, the man who believed in me.
Even to date, my father still has very high expectations of me, and I know it. He expects me, his daughter, to project his image, his ideals. He has a passion for education. When I seemed like I was delaying going back to school, my father again reminded me that my time was up. How badly I needed that wake-up call, and you can laugh at me!
Through my father, I have seen how the power of a father’s words and character can shape a girl’s destiny.
So before you ask me again why I am still single while on third floor, remember that I am Daddy’s Girl!
Happy Father's Day, Mwalimu Mwololo wa Mutisya, you believed in me.
From yours truly, Daddy’s Girl
