Dad’s trademark laughter brings light, warmth into our lives

Father’s Day is a day of commemoration and celebration of Dad, a time for letting your dad know how much you love him. Strengthen the ties that bind and make his day extra special with a message straight from your heart.

It is a day, not only to honour your father, but all men who have acted as a father-figure in your life — whether as stepfathers, uncles, grandfathers or “big brothers”. The day falls on the third Sunday of June every year. Roses are the Father’s Day flowers; red to be worn for a father who is still alive and white if your father has passed on.

By Rebecca Rugyendo

I got home recently after a long day at work to hear my father, Mukotani Rugyendo’s hearty laughter ringing in the living room. That was not strange because laughter is his trademark. I wondered who could be enjoying his amiable company, because as a people person, he reclines with just about everybody. This particular evening, my two recently married brothers — Nathan Ruhiiga and Ivan Mujere — had paid their routine visit and the atmosphere was vibrant.

When he cheerfully asked how my day had gone, I told him how I had grappled with editing a particularly difficult article. More ebullient laughter from him and my evening was sorted. I was reminded again of the many great lessons he has taught me: Do not beat yourself too hard, life has a way of sorting itself out. Laughter is a healing balm; do more of that than being gloomy. Ultimately, live a simple life.

I grew up admiring my father’s talent as a writer (author of The Barbed Wire and Other Plays, African Writers Series, Heinemann educational books, London, 1978) and with the greatest conviction and pride, always told whoever cared to listen that I wanted to become a journalist. Today, I proudly share a profession with my greatest inspiration — dad.

His confidence is contagious. My siblings and I run to him for advice about everything. He has helped me know that you can be anything and succeed. In school, he discouraged us from striving too hard to do things just because they were “cool”. That gave us a strong sense of self-worth, a quality that has helped us to survive just about anything.

My parents boast of two writers/editors, an agriculturist, two IT specialists, a graphics designer and videographer, a fisheries expert and a food scientist and have supported my siblings’ gospel music group, Shalom Rapperz to bloom. With dad, life is explorable. Whether you want to sing, paint or farm, it is all good.

Ivan recalls when he failed his A’levels. “I thought he (daddy) would tell me off. Instead, he encouraged me to re-sit and I passed to Makerere University.” Similarly, Julius Kasigyi, our fourth born, cannot forget dad’s words “you did not fail” when he had scored only one principle pass (C) in fine art. “I am now a videographer, and he recently left me speechless when he bought me expensive equipment for my business, even after paying the high fees at Nkumba University,” he reminisces with gratitude.

Dad is seldom angry. To me, he is the most understanding of men. Truly, a parent instills discipline best by example. Being able to stay cool under pressure, he complements mum perfectly when she frets about anything. Even at 60 years of age, he is still a dedicated hard worker and never does anything below standard. From dad, I have learnt that character counts more than fame and riches. I have never seen him lie or swindle anything from anyone.

Dad combines simplicity with class, humility with intelligent confidence, perseverance with optimism. There were times of political turmoil when we had to rotate between Kampala, Nairobi and Dar-es-Salaam and often had no shelter. It was not easy for a man, his wife and seven children to bundle themselves up in other people’s homes.

I often felt embarrassed as a child, but was amazed at how dad handled hard times, still laughing merrily and treating everyone with kindness no matter how difficult the circumstances.

Dad sometimes wore one pair of shoes all year, immensely sacrificing much so we could go to school and live a decent life, since mum was a stay-at-home mum. Declining many great opportunities for work abroad because of us, he always said, “Growing children need their father.”

Steven Rugyendo, our sixth born refers to him as a man of reputation, patience and determination. “He has shaped me into a focused and conscious adult.” he confesses, as my sister Irene Kyomugisha chips in nodding: “He has withstood countless storms, never walking away from his family in spite of it. We celebrate his love and selflessness.”

In her typical choleric tone, our second but last born Pamela Kamusiime maintains that no matter his status, a man who will not stand by his legal wife and children in all things is not a man. She points to dad’s generosity as exceptional. He is always willing to help even strangers with the least that he has, a virtue that has rubbed onto most of us.

For last borns like 17-year-old Emmanuel Agaba, mzee is too straightforward and strict on matters of education (we all went through it, boy!). On the contrary, Ruhiiga, as a first son sees dad as upright and empathetic: “I aspire to be at least half the man that dad is,” he says.

Not that dad is an angel. He definitely has made mistakes, but we look at these as a starting point for change and hope that we can live the productive life he has taught us to live. We love you very much dad.

Send your articles and photographs honouring that special man who has been a father-figure to you, to: The Features Editor, The New Vision, P.O.Box 9815, Kampala, or email features@newvision.co.ug; or a text message to 0715911654 or 0783258644 to reach us not later than June 17