Chukwuebuka ➐

My father attended my graduation ceremony wearing the same shirt he wore to weddings, funerals, and church every Sunday. I was embarrassed when I saw him. My classmates’ parents arrived in expensive clothes, took pictures with professional cameras, and booked restaurants to celebrate. My father came with a small nylon bag containing two boiled eggs and a bottle of water. When I introduced him to my friends, I simply said, “This is my dad.” I didn't hug him. He noticed, but he smiled anyway. After the ceremony, he asked if I wanted to eat somewhere. I told him I had plans with my friends. He gave me the nylon bag. “Eat something before you go. You haven't eaten since morning.” I collected it and walked away. That evening, I posted pictures with my friends. I didn't post the one with him. Three days later, my father called. He asked if I had received the money he sent through my elder sister. I said yes. He said, “Good. I sold the generator to raise it. I wanted you to have something to celebrate with your friends.” I went silent. Our generator had been the only thing that made our house bearable during hot nights. My father had spent months repairing it whenever it broke down. I asked him why he didn't tell me. He laughed softly. “What would you have done? Refused the money?” I couldn't answer.