15/01/2026
A Father’s Quiet Pain
I am a father to beautiful children—boys and girls, even twins—children I love more than I have ever loved myself. I would do anything for them. There is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice if it meant seeing them smile, feel safe, or know that they are loved.
Yet the deepest pain I carry is this: not even once did I take any of my children to their first day of school.
Not my sons.
Not my daughters.
Not even my twins.
Life happened in ways I never imagined, and today, I do not stay with any of my children. Each time a school bell rang for the first time in their lives, I was somewhere else—present in the world, but absent where I mattered most.
My last-born daughter has just started Grade R. Once again, I was not there. And this time it hurts differently. This time it feels final. I know in my heart that this is my last chance at that moment, because I do not want any more children. Not because I don’t love being a father—but because I cannot keep breaking my own heart like this.
Yes, I have flaws.
I am not a perfect father.
I am not a perfect boyfriend or husband.
I own that.
But my biggest mistake does not start with who I am—it starts with the decisions I make. Decisions that shaped my life in ways I cannot yet explain. Decisions whose weight I carry silently, because some truths are too heavy to speak out loud.
I live with regret, but also with love. A love that never left, even when I did. A love that wakes me up at night and sits with me in silence. A love that aches when I think of small hands holding school bags, looking around for a face that should have been mine.
I am in pain.
Not because I don’t have children—
but because I have them, and I miss moments that will never come back.
Still, I carry hope. Hope that one day my children will know that even in my absence, my heart never walked away. That even when I failed to show up physically, I loved them deeply—quietly, imperfectly, and painfully.
This is my truth.
This is my wound.
And this is the love I will always carry.
I am not weak for feeling this pain. I am human and a father.
This is a picture of me and my late cousin, I also don't remember my father taking me to school, is this because of that, will this happen to my kids also and did he feel the same pain I am feeling? But I am not going ignore...
This is my story
Philmoo Matshwantsha Seema Kekana