A Man: The Quiet Continuation

Man! This is deeply personal. Reflective. Penned on a very sunny afternoon. Born out of a realisation that I am in an existential moment. But first, yesterday was Father’s Day. And I almost missed it.

Here is the gist. Yesterday, in the middle of the day, I called my father for an entirely different reason, and somewhere, in the conversation, I remembered what day it was. I quickly mumbled to him that it was Father’s Day. And I think I added, ” Happy Father’s Day. “

You see, life simply moves as it often does. One obligation chasing another, one concern replacing the last. The cycle of adulting. Primarily, that’s why I almost forgot there is a day dedicated to fathers.

Not surprisingly, there was a pause from my father after Father’s Day wishes. The man sounded surprised. I am a man, so I could tell it was not an emotional surprise. Neither was it an expectant one. He was just surprised.

Now, there were two of us. Remember, I was also surprised first, and perhaps his reaction surprised me even more.

I reflected thereafter and wondered of the millions of men around the world who experience Father’s Day the same way, not as a celebration they anticipate, but as an unexpected interruption to an otherwise ordinary day.

Men and the Masculinity Identity

Traditionally, many men grew up accustomed to invisibility. You reached a certain age, and were assigned roles, sometimes unceremoniously. Even in the midst of the modern crisis on masculine identity, that is the one thing society has been religious about.

As a father, paying school fees is an obligation. As a husband, you fix the leaking tap. If you are the man of the family, you must show up when things fall apart. Intrinsically, we bury our fears so that our mothers, wives, sisters can sleep peacefully. If you want to know about this, ask your grandfather about the stories he carries, and nobody asks to hear.

As a man, I have made peace that the world will ask results of my labour. Who cares about the labour itself, anyway? Perhaps that is why so many men struggle when asked who they are beyond what they provide. That is the bitter truth.

When called to hunt, I will hunt. When called to protect, I will protect, work, endure. That is my usefulness. First, I will do it for me; then I will do it for impact. The first part of the statement is contingent on the fact that usefulness has an expiry date.

When children grow up, they leave. As a man grows old, his career ends, and his body weakens. Whatever thing he spent his whole life becoming is no longer needed by the world. Then crisis strikes at that moment when he asks himself the terrifying question: Who am I now?

I suspect many men fear growing old. When the children are gone and earning income is no longer tenable, loneliness creeps in. Probably a lot of us are living inside that fear today. Nothing is guaranteed at any moment. Chiefly, the loyalty of your woman.

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This is the reason why being well invested is a good way to grow old nicely, even though, as a man, you will be forgotten nevertheless.

Perhaps the biggest issue is the change in the old definition of manhood and identity transition. Many men are trapped in the middle of being too modern for the traditions that shaped their fathers and too traditional for the world being built around them. Sadly, that bridge often seems to lead nowhere.

What is the good news, though? We still wake up, go to work, provide, protect and carry burdens that few people see. This is the biggest courage I know. We continue building a future whilst questioning our place within it. At least in the eyes of part of society.

It begins to make sense with the surprises I started with. That even if we are not celebrated, those of us, we remain standing and continue going.  Perhaps this is the true evolution of manhood.

We are not becoming harder because our grandfathers were, nor are we becoming softer because that is what may be the expectation. We are working on becoming more complete. We are not holding on to the concept that men should never cry to show strength, but are saying remain standing even after life gives you a reason to sit.

Grief, man, but don’t let it become a form of cruelty. Bitterness can be let go. Carry responsibility, but don’t allow it to become arrogance. Scornful has no space in our dictionary. Face uncertainty without allowing it to become surrender. We aren’t giving up.

We are stewards of our families, communities and values. Yes.  More importantly, we are stewards of our own soul. We must not lose ourselves in the midst of the stewardship. One fact remains strong: we are a critical component in the world’s ecosystem.

Man: The Propagator of Life

And this brings us to the next conversation that transcends culture and reaches into biology. Scientists have long debated the future of the tiny genetic marker passed from father to son across countless generations. The same marker that I am indebted to pass on to my next generation, if all goes well. It is the Y chromosome.

However, there is an unsettling discussion, with some studies suggesting that it (the Y chromosome) has shrunk (arguably 97% of its ancestral genes) over evolutionary time. Other scientists argue that its disappearance is unlikely. Verdict. There remains uncertainty.

I choose to focus on the symbolism rather than the prediction. The Y chromosome is, in many ways, a biological reminder that every man alive today stands at the end of an unbroken chain stretching back through history. Every grandfather carried it, and every father carried it.

This is a stark reminder of the hardships endured by previous generations to pass it forward. Think of wars, famines, failures, heartbreaks, losses; but still somehow, they continued. And because they continued, we exist.

That inheritance is bigger than the genetics. It is evidence of resilience, responsibility, sacrifice and more importantly, hope. Hope that there is a future for men in this whole fiasco. It is the ultimate pointer that the future of almost half of the world population will not be decided by chromosomes alone.

Men must decide to continue choosing purpose over despair. Showing up, even when no one applauds us, should be engraved in our values. We are builders and must continue building even when destruction is imminent. That is where our future lies.

The world may forget to tell us that our lives matter, yet we must not forget that indeed they do. Yes, yesterday, my father did not seem particularly concerned that it was Father’s Day. Maybe that is because his generation learned not to expect recognition.

It may also be that he simply understands something I am only beginning to learn. That a man’s value was never meant to be measured by the number of days he is celebrated. It is measured by the lives that stand because he stood first. And I think this is it.

After the call, he must have reflected on the storms that never reached us because he faced them. He must have thought hard about us today, our lovely present, because he refused to quit.

If you’re a man reading this, and you feel uncertain. Maybe you’re questioning your purpose. Perhaps you’re carrying burdens; only you and God know. Or like me, you’re wondering if anyone notices.  Keep going.

I guarantee you that it is not easy. It will not be easy. And it was never meant to be easy. You might not be noticed or recognised. But keep going because every meaningful chapter in human history was written by ordinary men who never stopped despite uncertainty.

My hope is anchored in the fact that my journey is not over, my story is not finished yet and that my value has never depended on applause or external validation.

I pride myself on the greatest act of masculinity; I am continuing, I am standing, I am enduring, I am growing, and I am weaving my becoming. And what else? That I am reaching back and helping other men do the same.

Ubuntu, men.