ON MY FATHER'S PASSING
30th March 2025
My father was buried on Friday, I threw a party. Do not be alarmed, in Cameroon it is customary to throw a party when someone dies, they believe in celebrating all they have been rather than lamenting all they won’t get to be. I found out he died about two weeks ago on a Monday. I was in my apartment, in the kitchen when my mother called and told me. I remember exclaiming “What?!” when she clarified he died after initially phrasing it as he went to rest. He had been in pain for a while. The doctors could not figure out what was wrong with him until the last week of his life when he was diagnosed with leukemia. In the weeks leading up to his death, he texted me a couple of times, but I did not reply, I am not entirely sure I regret that. Maybe I do in some respects, but overall I do not think I do. It makes me a little nervous what that implies about me.
I think when someone dies there are expectations about how you should react, you are supposed to spend days, possibly months crying and in a general state of distress. You are expected to halt everything else and let yourself be enveloped by grief. Anger is also encouraged, anger at the world, the unfairness of the situation, just anger in some form and to some extent. When I got off the phone with my mother after she informed me of the death of my father, I cleaned the living room, swept, got the dustpan and picked up the dirt, went over to the kitchen and put it in the trash can and then texted my roommate to ask where we take the trash when it is overflowing (I had just moved in at the time and so I didn't know these things yet). I then went to my room where I sent an email to let my professor know I would not be making it to class because I just found out my father died. I then got into bed, I opened Hulu, and for whatever reason I clicked on the show Solar Opposites and started watching it, moving only to click the 'next button'. I did that for two days. Within those two days, I kept randomly bursting into tears. Tuesday night I took a bath and just spent a couple of hours crying in the bathtub. Wednesday morning I decided to go to class even though I knew I did not have to. I think I mainly just wanted to be out in the world, around people but for whatever reason I was also very reluctant to tell anyone my father had died. I did not want them constantly saying how sorry they are it's all happening like it is their fault or keep asking if I am okay like it makes any difference, but more than anything I did not want to articulate anything about it to anyone.
The thing is, my relationship with my father was weird. He was always around when I was growing up, being the only girl, I was always his favorite. I remember him cutting our hair even though he was not very good at it because doing it himself was cheaper than going to a barber. He was a very ambitious individual, I was told at some point that he ran for some position in the local government and lost so we just always had these campaign things in the house he seemed to refuse to get rid of. He was a vice principal at the local school and also a farmer. His father passed down to him this huge plot of land where he built a house, farmed all kinds of crops, and raised animals. He usually did everything by himself, but during the summer, my brothers and I would go down to help him with weeding and whatever else he needed help with. In the evening he would make us dinner using just stuff from the farm and he would often keep telling us how everything on the farm was medicinal, so that became kind of a joke among my brothers and me. We would joke that everything was medicinal, even the house. After dinner, we would have to trek like three hours to get from the farm to the house we lived in at the time which was in a nearby town. I think we lived in that house for almost my entire childhood. I remember it had red floors, it was not too big, it had three bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom and a backyard with an outdoor kitchen. Sure I remember the mornings I spent getting ready for school with my brothers as my mom made us breakfast, mornings watching manga on TV, and parties my parents sometimes hosted where entire goats were killed, but I also remember the evenings when other kids would go home, but I and my brothers would just be in the yard not really sure what to do because we were too young to know and had no idea where our parents were. Nights when my father would come home drunk and would spend all night fighting with my mother and sometimes my brothers. I remember the good times, but there were also a lot of bad days.
Quite frankly I was very relieved when my parents finally got a divorce. I was in my last year of primary school at the time and would go on to attend boarding school for the next two years, so I would be home only for the summers. Sometime during my second year of boarding school, my mom came by to visit. She told me she was moving to the United States with my eldest brother and I and my two other brothers will come after them in about two months. I was quite sad when she told me that because a part of me felt like that was the last time I was going to see her. I was obviously wrong because, in about two months, my brothers and I boarded a plane bound for the United States and well the rest is history. Regarding my father, we did not see him much after the divorce. He never came to visit me at boarding school during visitation day or made much of an effort to see me. The last time we were in the same room was almost 13 years ago when the court ordered me to spend part of the summer at his house. The last and only time we spoke within the past thirteen years was 3 years ago when I decided to wish him a happy fathers day on fathers day in 2022. I can get into the reasons why I barely spoke to my father for the past 13 years but I don’t think I am ready for all that, but I will say it was not because of the alcoholism or domestic violence, all that I can forgive. I can understand being dissatisfied with life, being angry, and wanting to take it out on those around you. I can get over all that, but there are other things I just can’t get over, unfortunately.
I suppose all that has something to do with why how I feel about my father’s passing is complicated. I will say without a doubt that I am sad about it, but the point is I am not just sad about it, I am so many other things that I am only beginning to grasp. Today I have been feeling grateful, random I know. I don’t know, reflecting on my time in Cameroon and the past couple of years, acknowledging my journey from a little girl in a random town in Cameroon who barely knew the sound of her own voice to a woman who attended an Ivy League institution in the United States, solo traveled across two continents, worked as a guide and mentor in the therapy industry, learned how to drive and drove halfway across America to lead a crew doing Manual labor in the woods, worked at a ski resort (for the free lessons), worked at the boys and girls club because why not, worked to support families as a caseworker for the state of Colorado and currently pursuing a masters degree in philosophy with plans to go onto to pursue a PhD. I mean how could I not be grateful? Grateful for all that I have gotten to experience, all the places I have gotten to see, and the people I have gotten to meet. I am grateful to have lived a life my father only dared to dream of. I do take a lot I have for granted but reflecting on the time I spent in Cameroon and who I am now, I can’t help but be in awe of who I am and who I am becoming. I Only hope my father would have been proud of me if he had gotten the chance to get to know the person I became.
P.S
It is unfortunate I could not attend your funeral. The thought of you being buried without any of us being there was a rather heartbreaking thought, but unfortunately, we could not be there because of all that is going on in Cameroon at the moment, but believe me despite everything I really wish I was able to make it to your funeral if only to get one last glimpse of you before you are gone from the face of the earth forever. I hope you made peace with yourself and came to terms with the life you did get to live. I can’t change the past or who we have been, but I can do my best to continue to make you proud. My relationship with you was far from ideal, but I am glad I got to meet you regardless. Despite all your flaws, I always admired you greatly.