Embracing fatherhood is the best thing a man can do

Ababu with his sons, Ababu Junior and the new-born, Ababu- Terrah.

NAIROBI: In social media circles, a picture can be worth thousands of likes or trolls, depending on innumerable variables.

This is what Ababu Namwamba learnt last week, when a picture of him bottle-feeding his infant son, Ababu-Terrah, surfaced on Facebook.

Ababu, 40, is a second-term MP and attorney by profession. Married to Prisca Ababu Namwamba for eight years, the couple has two other children: Tanya Helena, 7 and Ababu Jnr, 5.

“The picture was actually posted by my wife,” Ababu explains. “I guess she just wanted to share the beautiful moment with the world.”

That shared moment made Ababu and, by extension, fatherhood a talking point. The legislator is quick to clarify that fatherhood, not politics or litigation, is his premier joy and pride.

“There is no gift more divine; no task more blessed; no duty more fulfilling than parenting. My most favourite responsibility, the one that gives me most joy is fatherhood. Family is the safest refuge, the most assured investment, the foundation of society. Invest in it and you will not regret.

“I am normally present from the moment we know we are going to have a baby to the moment when the baby arrives. That is something you don’t want to miss.”

I can easily understand Ababu’s situation. When my wife was pregnant with our daughter, Pudding, whose life I chronicled in a newspaper column titled Fatherhood 101 for nine years, I was working in a non-governmental organisation where there was no provision for annual or paternity leave.

In her third trimester, I took two weeks unpaid leave to be with her. During that time, I helped in preparing for the arrival of the new baby. I bought baby clothes. Took over the running of the house. Became the masseur-cum-chef-cum-listener-cum-errand boy.

When, say, my wife craved bhajias, I dashed two estates away to buy this quick fix. To date, I still associate bhajias with a baby bump.

“How is a man going to lead the community and nation if he cannot lead his family?” Ababu poses, asserting that leadership and fatherhood are conjoined twins.

“How can you care for the community, and show love and affection to citizens out there when you do not practice that right from home? “They say human beings are creatures of habit. It’s the habits you develop that define you; which ultimately make your character.

According to Ababu, if you do not have the habit of spending time with the people who are closest to you — loving, caring and creating time for them — how are you going to do that for strangers?

“Parenthood should be more important for a leader more than anyone else. How you care for and lead your family is the perfect way of training for how to care for the people you represent,” he says.

In my case, we had agreed with my wife that we would not employ a house help when the baby arrived. Thus, I would take over the running of the house until such a time as she felt fit enough to resume her duties.

The two weeks’ leave was my mental preparation for the tasks ahead.

When the baby came, I became the chore master. I did all the household tasks, before dashing off to work at 5.30 am and returning at around 6 pm to do more chores. During the day, I called her intermittently.

The support impacted my wife positively. She healed faster. She was a happy mother and wife. She was in the right state of mind to do the most important job in the world; nursing our newborn.

“Paternity leave is part of our terms of service as MPs,” Ababu fills me in when I ask if parliamentarians are entitled to this priviledge.

Ababu and Prisca with their children, Tanya Helena, 7, and Ababu Junior, 5.

“What I don’t know is whether members take advantage of it. It’s not a weakness to be in the house to clean, prepare food and feed your baby. It’s not a weakness to help around the house. It’s actually a sign of a very balanced personality ... and strength. Strong people care for the weakest. True strength comes in service.

“What many of us forget, by the way, is that when the chips are down, after you have exited from this public life, or even when you land in any trouble, the people who will be there for you, comforting you and spending time with you are your children, your wife, your family.”

READ WIFE’S MOOD

A husband’s perceptiveness and support is the difference between a happy and sour home.

Occasionally, I came home early, babysat and told my wife to go out with her friends for coffee.

This was after she told me how, at times, the baby would bawl her lungs out, and, after trying all tricks and lullabies, she would also start crying.

These little treats recharged my wife’s frayed nerves. They made her know that I cared. Plus, they made her realise that, although she now had our baby, she was still my baby. And she was still a sexy girl. Oftentimes, the arrival of a baby can be the start of the unraveling of a love affair.

Which is why a husband should know how to read his wife’s moods — and reassure her, constantly — especially after she has given birth, and her figure, body language and temperament have changed, and doubts about her sex appeal are freaking her out.

“When one’s wife is happy, definitely, it has a knock-on effect on the children and marriage,” Ababu concurs.

“Some time you may hear your wife is screaming at the children, and in the background you hear music from the kitchen sink, the music of pots and pans fighting ... which should tell you that a message is being conveyed to you.”

But not many people understand this, and I was surprised to discover the gender of the non-understanding lot.

In our old apartment block, the communal clothesline faced the road.

Whenever I hang out nappies to dry, women — mostly women — would gawk at me. From their countenances, I could tell they had loads of question and exclamation marks.

But no amount of gawking bothered me.

In fact, I took them as validation of my fledgling fatherhood skills.

My upbringing has a big part to do with my nonchalance attitude toward doing household tasks.

While growing up, my mama, Nya’Manoah always swore that chores did not have chromosomes.In Nya’Manoah’s house, it was not unusual to see boys doing the dishes while girls did their nails. Mama insisted that she was raising up human beings, not honchos.

DOING DISHES

When our baby girl came, I was already in my element. Uh-uh. The sweet little thing did not change me. Changing soiled diapers came as natural to me as correcting a typo.

Nowadays I am in my daughter’s face, like her little nose. Because? Six days a week, breakfast is my gig. I love doing laundry, dusting and doing dishes. These are my tonics for writer’s block.

My daughter is growing up knowing that, in a house, any family member can do any task.

“Those who are really my close friends know me,” Ababu, the supportive-spouse answers when I ask him about perceptions to him doing chores.

“And they are not surprised because they know this is the kind of thing Ababu does.

He says his friends who visit him and those who go out with him and interact with his family, friends who holiday with them, for instance, know he is always out there with his family.

“I guess those who do not know me that up close would think I am emasculated ... wengine wanaweza fikiria nimekaliwa chapati,” Ababu says.

“Others like COTU Secretary General, Francis Atwoli was saying that I am showing off, and that I am not a real Luhya man.

“According to Atwoli, a real Luhya man should not be caught dead changing diapers. A real Luhya man lounges on the sofa, his legs on the table and waits to be served. Everybody has their own opinion, and they are entitled to it.

“The other day, a young law student told me that I have strengthened his belief in family and that he wants to get married, have a family and follow my example.”

Based on what I have gone through for nine years, I can say that most men enter this lifelong job without even most rudimentary preparation.

Without role models. Without “career” plans. We just stumble or are shoved — by circumstances of ticking clocks — into this crucial space.

Maybe, just maybe, to kill the bad rep that fatherhood has in this country, we need to see more Ababus on social media.