I Hate My Dad.

Written In The POV Of My 13 Year Old Niece

Here, listen to this. My big couz plays this song a lot and I love it because it's sad and now, I am sad.

My dad is someone I would describe as self-destructive. But his self-destruction doesn’t affect only him. It affects everyone in the house. He is like a gun that could go off at any time, so we are always careful around him, tiptoeing, trying not to make him angry.

I hate my dad so much. So much that if he dies now I'll sigh in relief and feel an unexplainable calmness wash over me. I loved my dad before I hated him. He hasn't always been the sweetest but he did care about us. When people who knew my father before talk about him, I wonder what happened to that man. They describe him as kind and loving, and it makes me cry. I cry for who he used to be and for the fact that he isn’t that person anymore.

On Monday at school, we were asked to write a composition about our father. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t write about how my dad leaves home for days and comes back drunk. I didn’t write about how he tries to hit my mum or how he insults her when he asks for food he doesn’t provide for. I didn’t write about how he doesn’t take care of us, not because he doesn’t work, but because we are not important to him. I didn’t write about how he has another child with another woman. I didn’t write about how he doesn’t really know me, or how he hasn’t spoken to my brother for years. I didn't write about how his presence saddens the entire house. I wrote lies, lies I wish were true.

I wish we could run away, leave home, start somewhere else. I'm trying to understand why my mum doesn't want to. She said She's scared of how we'd survive, not because our survival depends on my dad. But because if we leave, we leave her entire business, her shop, our house and surviving, starting again would be a struggle. I understand her, at least I'm trying to.

I am glad my brothers don’t have to see everything I see. Lucky stays with our aunt, far away from all this pain. Noel is in the university, but he is still affected because my mum’s struggles affect him too. Yesterday, I heard my mum on the phone begging him to manage the five thousand naira she sent him, because it was the only profit she made that day. I also heard him trying to comfort her, telling her it was okay.

But I feel sad because I am the only one here. I don’t have anyone to share this with. No one comforts me.

I can’t wait for the holidays, so I can go far away from here.

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God, I'm teary. I hate your daddy too Rae. I hate him.