While in Uyo over the weekend, I attended the traditional marriage ceremony of the children of two of my respected friends (Dr. Nathaniel Adiakpan and Chief Marcus Okuku). Dr. Adiakpan’s son took the hand of Chief Okuku’s daughter in marriage in a beautiful, well-attended ceremony. It was a celebration of family, continuity, and the quiet fulfilment of years of parenting.
Shortly after, I took an intentional break from work and politics to attend the Parents Teachers Association (PTA) meeting at my daughter’s school. Fathers of first daughters understand the peculiar pressures that attend that relationship. So beyond attending the meeting to receive updates from the school and interacting with other parents, I really wanted to avoid “wahala” from my adiagha (first daughter).
Seated in that hall, I observed knotted tensions as introduced to me by my friend, Dr. Mmekidmfon Umanah of King’s College. These tensions were between holding and letting go; protection and adventure; guidance and independence. In this room, these tensions were not abstract ideas; they were real, present, palpable, and competing for dominance.
I suspect many of these tensions stem from how we conceptualise our role as parents: are we owners or caretakers? Ownership seeks control; caretakership seeks stewardship.
Additionally, as parents, most of us are in a battle to either prevent or recreate our childhood experiences for our kids. Parents who grew up in very poor or struggling spaces battle to ensure that their children do not ‘suffer’ what they (parents) suffered growing up. So, in the process, they consciously obliterate any semblance of the pain and neglect they endured as kids. Others who had a silver spoon in their mouth work very hard to transfer the silver spoon (if not a diamond spoon) to their children.
These reflections crystallised during the heated debate over the school’s policy restricting phone calls between students and parents during the term, except in emergencies or for compelling reasons. Some parents argued that the policy would emotionally distance their children from them. The school maintained that unrestricted access to phones disrupts concentration and delays the cultivation of independence.
For a brief moment, the atmosphere grew tense, almost chaotic. Then the principal rose, restored order, and proposed a compromise: a limited window for calls, coupled with an appeal that parents exercise restraint.
As I sat there, I saw clearly the paradox in parents who sincerely desire that their children mature into responsible, independent adults, yet struggle to loosen their protective grip. And truth be told, regardless of age, a parent still sees a child.
When I juxtaposed the PTA debate with the earlier marriage ceremony and the biblical injunction to “leave and cleave,” it reinforced an obvious truth: parenting is not an easy responsibility. The truth we don’t want to hear is that the role of parenting is to prepare a child for eventual departure.
These tensions are real. They are inevitable. The issue is not whether they exist, but how we manage them. Parenting is neither perpetual holding nor premature release. It is the discipline of discernment, knowing when to hold, when to let go, and having the courage to act accordingly.
So when I remember how Dr. and Mrs. Adiakpan and Chief and Mrs. Okuku danced at their children’s marriage ceremony, I think that they were not just happy about their children getting married; it was a form of self-congratulation, saying to themselves, yes, we made it, we trained them well, and now they are ready to stand on their own.
