The things I never told my Mother
Growing up for me was blissful. I had a father who would listen, empower and reinforce to me the fact that God fearfully and wonderfully created me. Daddy told me daily how I could be anything I wanted to be. You see, my daddy was 30 years older than my mother. He was better educated in “terms of certificates” than her and he was a greatly travelled gentleman. My mother on the flip side, was only a standard six certificate holder, from a more humble background but “a very intelligent woman” without the glory of “many paper certificates”. By virtue of the gap in their background, my mother’s mantra was to beat the discipline physically, by “fire by force” into one’s body. My father would discuss with you and explain very calmly, ensuring that you understood what and why you need to make recommended changes. The two had modus operandi that were the opposite to each other. I look back and cannot remember the one time my father hit me or ever shouted at me. However, my mo
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