Don’t judge that man who chooses not to see his family during holidays

If there is anything to love most about this season is how we wrap it with positive vibes. We want to talk about how we have conquered the vicissitudes of life, the new recipes we will be trying and the Christmas décor that we can't wait to put up. After last week’s topic on teetotalers and their troubles amongst drinkers, I felt compelled to talk about adults’ estrangement with their parents. Because you will see them and ask, “hujaenda kuona wazazi hii Christmas pia?” (You have not gone to visit your parents in yet another Christmas season?)

I thought of an old friend. Let’s call him Rick.  I met him at the university and as other students were packing to go to their homes for holidays, I took Rick to ours.  His home was the mouth of a shark, so when he turned 18, he left. And closed that door.

Rick was about five when he started making sense of some observations. He was the fourth in a family of five and bore the heavyweight of the mistakes of his other siblings.

They were all beaten when they messed up but his beatings were always worse. He went to a public school when his siblings went to private schools.

The mother’s name on his birth certificate was different. To little Rick, however, it is not something that he pondered.  At one Christmas party on the year that he turned 13, his drunk uncle gave him a hint that he was not born of the same mother as his siblings. It all started to make sense—the bad treatment, the different surname and all.

When he confronted his mom about it, she told him to go and ask his father who didn’t hold back. Rick was born out of a one-night stand affair and his mother had left him at his father’s doorstep right after he was born, never to be seen again. His dad couldn’t even deny the resemblance and to avert the shame, took him in reluctantly but never actually grew to love him.

On-campus, Rick was the kid who never spoke much about his family except some fleeting moments in the dead of the night and under the influence of alcohol.

 During such a time, you are bound to meet many men like Rick.  They are estranged from their families and it is not something society or life prepares you for especially in a society that lay emphasis on family ties.

When people meet you, beyond asking about what you do, usually, they will ask about your family. It’s often unforgivable to tell people you haven’t spoken to any of your family in twelve years. It will always be met with utmost shock then by endless questions- usually trying to figure out what they did, why you didn’t forgive them, how you’re okay living such a sad and lonely life and trying to pinpoint the flaws in you. They will remind you that blood is thicker than water and how you’ll come to regret it when you’re older and trivialise the issue. Further, they will share an experience of theirs and take offence that you cannot learn from their own cases. It must be exhausting in ways I can’t even begin to comprehend to be in these shoes especially during the holiday period when family and holiday plans come up every few seconds.

If there is something that I have learnt is that families are not the same and nowhere equal. Just because I come from a family that supports me doesn’t mean many others out there do. Some men have grown up in houses where they were abandoned, abused or humiliated. Other men remember the fights that occurred when their parents died and their relatives took away their inheritance. Then there are those who come from houses where they’ve had to experience things they might never be able to speak about.

This season, show compassion.  If someone does not want to talk about their families or mention that they are estranged, do not sit on the judgement’s seat. Leaving one’s flesh and blood cannot possibly be an easy choice and I respect you for that. If you get a man who has fallen out with his family, don’t judge him because you don’t know the burdens he’s carrying. Buy him a drink instead.

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