Unspoken Truths of Fatherhood: From One Dad to Another

By Pholo Ramothwala

My eldest kids are now 26 and 20. My son is the older one, and my daughter is the younger of the two. When my son was born, his mom and I were still students - young, unprepared, and not ready for the responsibilities of parenthood. Given our situation, he was mostly raised by his grandmother and later by his mother, who became a single parent. I was present in title yet absent in practice. Before I knew it, he was an adult I barely knew.

My daughter’s story unfolded a little differently. By the time she was born, I was a bit more mature. Although things didn’t work out with her mother, I became her primary caregiver and raised her on my own. That made me believe I knew her. Over time, I came to see that knowing your child takes more than daily routines, it requires a different level of presence and connection.

Let me just say that, a lot has happened between me and my children, both individually and as a family. Enough to fill a book. As I grow older, I find myself reflecting more on the many lessons fatherhood has taught me. And I want to share a few.

Presence Isn’t Enough

I used to think that sending pocket money or spending the occasional holiday with my son meant I was present in his life. Over time, I came to understand that what he truly needed was a father who showed up consistently, someone who could guide and support him through life’s challenges.

With my daughter, I believed that making her lunch every morning and tucking her in at night was enough. It seemed like it counted for something. Still, what she really needed was more than routine. She needed my emotional presence, my full attention, and the kind of affirmation I didn’t always know how to give.

Having the Hard Conversations

Today, I find myself having more honest conversations with both of them about our “complex” relationships. I call them complex because life isn’t black and white. We have all had our wounds, and those wounds left scars.

I have also had to accept that my children are now adults, with their own minds, views, and emotions. I can no longer assume that being their father gives me the right to dismiss how they feel. If anything, it calls me to listen more and speak less.

Gratitude in Growth

Despite the missteps, I’m grateful! Grateful that these two amazing humans have not given up on me. That they are now teaching me how to get better at being their father. Teaching me when to step back, when and how to show up, and how to be present with purpose.

And so, from one imperfect father to another, I want to offer a few reflections:

1. To Present Fathers

Don’t take it for granted that you live with your kids or see them often. Kids have emotional needs that money and physical presence alone can’t fulfil. Your presence must be intentional, meaningful and honest.

2. To Fathers Waking Up Late to Fatherhood

Maybe you're only now realising that your child, especially one born before marriage or outside a long-term relationship, still needs you. And you're right. They do. It's never too late to start showing up. They deserve that from you.

Let go of all the baggage about when or how they came into this world. They weren't there when it all happened.

3. To Distant or Disconnected Fathers

Maybe you know you have a child out there. Maybe you’ve stayed away, for whatever reason. Here’s the reality: children grow up and become adults. And whether you were around or not, your absence leaves a mark.

It’s not just about money. It’s about showing up. It’s about protecting the relationship from becoming another story of hurt and disappointment. You’ve heard of “daddy issues”? That’s real. Don’t let your child carry wounds you have the power to heal. Reach out. Start somewhere.

Final Thoughts

If you’re a dad reading this, whether you’re doing your best, struggling, or thinking about trying, know this: parenting with purpose doable. Even if you’ve made mistakes, even if it feels like too much time has passed, there’s still a chance to give your children something meaningful.

Less scars. More healing. More presence. That’s the gift we can still offer.