My heart is heavy this morning. And the tears that flow without my consent while I strive to write these few words to my father, my loving little daddy. Today, my father would have been 71 years old.
My father died six years ago, and even today I feel like it didn’t really happen. It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? He’s dead, buried, and sometimes I still want to call him for advice, I still have his number saved in my phone, and I’m often ready to pull it out to tell him about my day or hear from him.
The years have passed, and even if the pain is no longer as sharp as it used to be: the lack, this hollow in the middle of my chest is still there, very present. And I can tell you that a house where a father is missing, even if the lamp illuminates it, it will always be dark there. Enjoy yours if you still have it. My sisters and I would give anything to make mine come back to us…
Since I have two children and they are also lucky enough to have a father, this hole seems less deep to me. I became a mother, and my father was present at my first delivery. Besides, my son, his namesake always asks after him. Dad left when he was only 10 months old. I am a parent myself, and the world has continued and continues to turn.
This evolution does not prevent me from always being, me too, my daddy’s little girl. And what a dad he was, if you knew…
My father, my hero
To tell you a bit about him, my father was a real genius, in the true sense of the term. Gifted in human relations, renowned for his sustained language, his honesty and his big heart. My father didn’t have a great degree, but his graduate friends courted him for his valuable advice. He had a resume that could fit on a single page, his career had been so rich and exciting. My love for reading, I got it from him. My dad loved books, and so did I. There is a whole library in our house. From storybooks to those of the great men of the world, you can find everything there.
My father, this discreet man who has lived so much. My father did not look his age. He knew how to take care of himself.
My father was a secretive, almost shy person, he sometimes spoke to me about his life, his childhood, his past, how he got his first job, how he met my mother, what name he had predicted for me or my brothers and sisters and above all, he gave the reason.
My father was a history book, an entire library of memories which he spoke of with humour, modesty and secrecy. But when he did, we were hanging on his lips, so fascinated was he by what he was saying, he who had lived up close to the great events that make up our history, he who had personally known emblematic figures of the world, of Cameroon, and whose biographies we can read today.
My father was extraordinary, simple, of rare intelligence and sensitivity. He always brought me a sharp look at the news. He who was a journalist, writer and even guitarist at one time in his life. When he retired, we could spend hours discussing everything that made up the world around me.
My father, speaking at my cousin’s dowry ceremony. C: Badal Fohmoh
He was deeply good, caring and funny, and he was more than a crutch I could lean on, he was my whole leg.
My dad and I have always worked out.
If my father was all that and even more, he also had his weaknesses, like any human…
Knowing and appreciating each other for what we were. But our relationship was exceptional, unique and sublime. He was my father and he was my friend, and he lives on through me, through my children, and through everyone who was lucky enough to know him. My father was not my father alone, but also that of my brothers and sisters, close or distant. My brothers and sisters of the KAMGA family always mourn him, what about grandfather, his majesty Fo’o Fondjo ll David ? My father was his uncle and one of his precious advisers whom he always listened to. Even if he doesn’t say it, I know, my sisters and my mother know that he misses him too. My father was my father (crying 😭), an outstanding unifier…
Today, July 20, 2023, my father would have been 71… But alas! The injustice of this life has taken it away from us. I still believe that he is there, present at every moment, like that famous June 30, 2023 when I received my first two trophies as best blogger. How I wish he was there, but I’m sure he screamed that day telling the angels that: she’s my daughter 🫂🥰❤️.
My father is 71 today. And because death does not stop love: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD ! We miss you so much, I miss you too much.
My father and I in the same posture, at the family reunion at the superior Fotouni chiefdom. C: Temdemnou Fondjo
I LIKE YOU ! You remain my super hero for life 💡 ❤️.
Badal, your favorite little one.
C: Badal Fohmoh