A LETTER to my daughter

By Samod Biobaku

Sixthsense34@yahoo.com

Dear daughter,

I know for certain that by the time you’ll be reading this letter, you would have learnt how to walk and would also have become familiar with how to tell what the time is by looking at the clock (and I don’t mean the digital ones o).

Dear daughter; today is January 8, 2012. I do not know precisely when or where you’ll be born but my heart warmly reaches out to you and I miss u already. It’s kind of strange isn’t it? I mean being missed when you’re not even born.

There are so many things I do not know about you; I do not know what you’re going to look like facially. I don’t know how dark you would be. I have no idea how tall you’ll grow. I don’t know what your favourite food, colour, drink, game, movie, friend or song would be but one thing I know for certain is that I’m going to love you very much just as much as I’d want you to love me too.

Besides being your father, I would also love to be your friend. I know it would be my responsibility to provide food, shelter and clothing for you; a duty I eagerly look forward to fulfilling but besides giving you an education and watching over you, I want to remain a friend; always.

Friends do a lot of things together; they talk, they advise one another, they share quality time together, they play, they work and ultimately, they are always there for each other.

I also can’t stop wondering how i’m going to feel the first time you call me Daddy with the babyish inflection of your vocal projection. It would probably sound more like “Taaaaatiiii…” when you utter it.

I cannot however promise you that we would not have our bad days when you would have to be scolded, reprimanded and most likely punished on more than a few occasions but do not worry, it is just one of those things I experienced while growing up too.

There are well over 20 names that I have for you and they are all very beautiful but I strongly believe that the moment I set my eyes on you; either in the doctor or mummy’s hands, your name would come to me as I gaze into your tiny face.

My dear unborn daughter, you would be as much a part of me as much as I would be a part of you and I can assure you that you can trust me with virtually anything.

I have had my fair share of shock, surprises and moments of astonishment and my shock absorber to this has geometrically improved over the years. So, always remember that no matter how bad the situation is, you can always talk to daddy.

I cannot speak a hundred per cent for mummy but one thing I know for certain is that she would love you as much as I do perhaps even more though her way of showing it might differ from mine.

I cannot wait to hold you in my hands and carry you when you’re still a baby because I know that by the time you get into your 20s, carrying you might require some weeks at the nearby gym or taking an aerobic class.

Dear unborn baby, daddy is very athletic o. I do a minimum of 150 push ups everyday and even used to do as much as 400 on a daily basis but I’ve been experimenting on some new programmes that my body is still trying to adjust to. I also do ‘pull-ups,’ ‘sit-ups’ and squats as well and all these keep me in good form. You’ll see what I look like when you arrive and i’m equally dying to see you.

I’m going to love you very much and I’m sure you’re going to make daddy very proud.

Baby, I want you to promise me that by the time you grow and begin to understand the difference between right and wrong, you would always strive to be on the right side.

I’m a Muslim and despite the fact that you would be one too, I do not want you holding any grudge against people whose beliefs differ from yours. As you grow up, you would meet Christians, Buddhists, people who have traditional beliefs, monks and even those who do not believe in the existence of God at all. They are called atheists. Always remember that you have no right to judge these people and that one day, you would fully understand that there can be unity in diversity.

My Dear unborn daughter, I know there’s a part of raising you that most people would not warn me about, which I’m already aware of and that is the fact that when you’re a baby, there would be countless nights when you would keep mummy and I awake.

You would not be doing this because you feel like punishing your mum and I but it would unavoidably happen because you would only be a baby; it is natural that you would cry when there’s something wrong with you; perhaps you’re feeling hot, hungry or experiencing other things we might not be able to tell 100 per cent. The fact that you would not be able to talk or tell us precisely what is wring with you or what you want would make this inevitable and most times, your mum and I would only try our best to figure out what you want or what the problem is and make you feel as comfortable as we possibly can.

Dear daughter, I sincerely pray that by the time you arrive in this world, it would be much safer and calmer than it is right now. At the moment, Nigeria has been battling two major evils (though there are others); one is a terrorist group notoriously known as ‘Boko Haram.’ This group originally started off as an Islamic group peacefully protesting the ‘supposed’ evils of the western culture but today, certain element have hijacked the group and it has since claimed countless lives through suicide bomb attacks on churches, mosques, public places and even the United Nations office in Abuja.

Today’s date is January 8, 2012 like I noted earlier and would you believe that Muslims gathered to guard churches in Minna today as the Christians were worshipping? This erases any doubt about the fact that Boko Haram is not an Islamic organization. I have practiced Islam for well over 20 years and I have and would never strike a Christian or anyone who holds a divergent religious belief over our differences – Never!

The other problem Nigerians have had to contend with today, which I’m glad you’re not here to witness is the high-level corruption that our government officials engage in.

Here’s a good example for you my dear baby (You’d find it easy to understand this no matter your age when you’re reading this): “If you buy 40 newspapers everyday for 366 days at N350 (even when most of them are sold for N150/N200 now), you would eventually spend N5.12 million. Today, the newspapers budget for Nigeria’s Vice President is N45.8 million.” Does my baby now understand what I mean?

Well, my dear, let leave these matters alone for now. This letter is about you and no one else. So, like I earlier noted, i’m going to build my world around you. There are things I would let you do and then there are things that I would not let you do until you reach a certain age. For instance, I would allow you watch TV and interesting cartoons. I would buy you loads of teddy bears. I would buy you a bicycle and teach you how to swim. I would take you to the cinemas whenever my schedule accommodates it. I would buy you ice cream, sweets, candy bars and chocolates from time to time. I would teach you how to recite the Qur’an and how to memorise its verses. I would teach you how to be a lady and mummy would come in at this point in no small measure. I would take you to the beach at least once in my lifetime. I would teach you how to pray and how to differentiate between right and wrong. I would teach you to be appreciative. I would teach you how to study hard and get good grades in school. I would teach you how to read novels, newspapers, novellas and magazines. I would teach you how to keep your room tidy at all times. I would teach you how to do your laundry. I would teach you how to apologise to people when you hurt or upset them. I would teach you how to help others when they are in need. I would teach you how to share with other children and people who are less privileged than you are. I would teach you how not to sit too close to the TV as it could damage your eyes on the long run. I would teach you how to be a good listener. I would teach you to control you temper (I honestly pray you’re not hot tempered). I would teach you how to eats foods like Amala, Eba, tuwo, fufu, eko, iyan and other African delicacies. I would teach you how to learn new words so as to expand your vocabulary. I would teach you how to be humble and courteous to people. I would teach you how to protect yourself from strangers. I would teach you how to respect others so that they can respect you in return. Baby, I could go on and on about the things I would teach you but I don’t want to stretch this letter beyond three Microsoft (Word) pages. I would have loved to teach you how to cook but that would be mummy’s job.

My dear baby, I also pray that by the time you arrive, you would meet the rest of my family especially my mother who would be your grandma. You would have met grandpa too but he passed away (died) in 1994) but when you’re old enough, I promise to tell you about him. He was a very good man and you’d love the stories I’m dying to tell you about him. He was a very great man. I once watched him whisper into the ears of a camel that he was about to kill it and the camel suddenly began shedding tears. I was shell-shocked. I’ll tell you more about him and how he eventually killed the camel when you join the family. You would also meet the rest of my nuclear family; Kamil, Shakirat, Aolat and other members of our extended family.

At the moment, you already have five cousins and they’re much older than you since they’ve already been born. Their names are Khadijat, Mariam, Zaynab, Rukoyat and Fatima (all girls); they’re all very beautiful and I’m sure you would be as well.

By the time you’re here my dear daughter, you would realize that Zaynab and Rukoyat are identical twin sisters and a thought suddenly occurred to me and it made my heart skip a beat or two. What if you arrive with a twin brother or a twin sister? Well, I guess that means I would have to love both of you equally but you have to promise me that you’ll share this letter with her (or him as the case may be).

My dear daughter, at the moment I might not have the largest reservoir of love and affection in the world but I promise you that if push comes to shove, I would gladly take a bullet for you.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Your loving dad,

Samad.