17/02/2026
MY FATHER LEFT US BECAUSE WE WERE GIRLS.
Not because my mum didn't give him peace
Not because we were not intelligent
Not because he was struggling to take care of us
But his excuse was because we came out all female..
I was six years old when I saw my father carry a bag out of our house.
My baby sisters were barely 4 and 2years old. One was sucking her thumb. The other was crying because Mum had no more milk left in the fridge. I remember holding onto his trousers and asking, âDaddy, where are you going?â
He didnât answer me.
He just pushed my hand away.
Later, I heard him tell my mother outside, loud enough for the neighbors to hear:
âThree girls? What will I do with them?
That was how he walked out of our lives.
Just like that.
Growing up without a father is not just about money.
Itâs about school open days when every child has someone waiting for them except you.
Itâs about Fatherâs Day cards you never buy.
Itâs about watching other girls get picked up after lessons while you walk home in the sun with torn slippers.
My mum became everything. Father. Mother. Provider. Prayer warrior.
She sold akara in the mornings.
Did laundry for people on weekends.
Sometimes skipped meals so we could eat.
There were nights we slept hungry. There were times our uniforms were faded and our shoes had holes. But she never let us feel unwanted.
She always told us:
âYou girls will be something. Donât let anybody tell you otherwise.â
Meanwhile, our father?
He was living life.
We heard stories of
How he chased women.
How he wasted money like water.
How he had sons later with another woman and still didnât settle.
He never checked on us.
Not once.
No birthday calls.
No school fees.
No âHow are you, my daughters?â
To him, we were useless.
Fast forward many years.
We grew..
We all went back to school late but finished strong.
We struggled. We cried. We prayed. But we made it.
And then one random afternoon, my mum called me.
Her voice was shaky.
She said, âYour father is asking about you girls.â
I laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it was unbelievable.
The same man who abandoned three little girls⊠now wanted to be part of our lives.
Apparently, life had humbled him.
His health was failing.
His businesses collapsed.
The children he stayed for donât even respect him.
Now he remembers he has daughters.
He came to our house looking smaller than I remembered. Older. Weaker.
He cried.
A grown man who once said we were nothing⊠was now kneeling, begging.
He said he made mistakes.
He said he was young and foolish.
He said he wants to know his daughters.
I just sat there staring at him.
All I could see was my mum crying silently in the kitchen years ago.
All I could remember was walking to school barefoot.
All I could hear was him saying, âWhat will I do with girls?â
Hereâs the thing.
We donât hate him.
But wounds donât disappear because someone suddenly feels sorry.
Forgiveness is not easy when someone chose to leave you broken.
We are doing well now. Not because of him â but in spite of him.
And sometimes I wonderâŠ
If you were the one, will you forgive him?
