My dad Arodi was not ‘A raw deal’ – Tribute to my dad (1933- July 19th 2016)

Anyone who knows me has no doubt about how much I loved my dad. That was not a secret at all, I spoke about him to anyone I ever met, I called him every few days and at one point my mum declared me to be as stubborn as my father which was not a compliment as I had just taken a firm position on a matter. She was recovering from losing an argument with me so I never took that personal.

Nick Arodi Ochola was a fine man, a father to many beyond his biological children. He may have had his failings but by and large he remained and remains a father I would like to be to my own biological child and many other people who need a father figure in their lives.

On Tuesday 19^th June 2016, my dad lost a protracted battle with prostate cancer that reduced him to nothing in a few short months from a very vibrant and intelligent old man. He was in his 83^rd year in the world which was rich of wisdom and worthy experiences he shared with us.

My father was a very strict disciplinarian just as was my mum. At some point in my life when I was about 11 years old, I had contemplated running away from home in Umoja Estate in Nairobi to be a streetboy. This was mainly because I considered my parents to be too strict for my comfort as a boy. What I am not giving you are details of how I was becoming an extremely indisciplined child on my part. He has passed on without ever knowing that I had such thoughts in my childhood. My mother will only know about this as well when I will talk about my father on his burial date.

What then would make me end up loving my dad to these crazy levels after that explanation right above? This is a valid question which I intend to answer satisfactorily.

I lived very closely with my dad from the age of 12 when he brought me to our village to be close to him and to be monitored towards my discipline issues. I remember hearing him and my mum arguing about how I was getting out of hand and becoming difficult for my mum to handle which was true anyway. I was a disaster as a child.

What my father inculcated in me as a little boy and as an adult stays on. If you love anything about my character as a person, he is the one to give credit to. If you hate something about me as well, I guess he contributed to me having what you might also hate.

Growing up then under the motherly attention of my step mother and the guidance of my father  in the village was always having many lessons. More than I could ever have received if I was allowed to continue growing up in Nairobi. I was able to literally sit with his mother – my grandmother- Marcella whom he loved passionately. I would always pick her mind together with that of her eldest sister Nyawara to know about my father’s childhood. He never knew I learnt that all my traits as a little boy were a replica of what he was to his mother as a child. I kept that to myself.

My aunt and grandma would tell me,’Arodi owe dhawo ni ichendo, en ne ochendo machalo nadi kaka nyathi, Arodi kata ne ituon chiemo nikech ok odhi e puodho to ok ne obadhe. On obi chiemo, puodho bende pod ok obi dhiye’ (Your dad Arodi should not be complaining of your character as a boy. He was as stubborn when he was growing up. If you denied him food because he refused to go to the garden in the morning, he would not be bothered; he will not eat and would still not go to that garden even the following day)

I always remember how at most lunch meals, he would send me to go call his elder brothers Christopher Omiti, Vincent Kandaya, Alex Babu, Ayoma and Achieng’ to join in the meal. It never mattered that the food was prepared to be consumed by the two of us. I never complained as I went to fetch these brothers of his. He would then tell me to always look out for my brothers as I may be having a great meal in my house while they are starving in their homes. This has contributed a lot in my tendency to always seek someone to join me when I am going to buy lunch or dinner. Some of my friends know that as a strange trait. He taught me how to share the little I may have. That was the sharing ‘Jalong’.

When I joined St. Mary’s School, Yala for my secondary education. I was able to even experience my dad’s caring nature some more. In Form two and to the very end of my studies, I faced extreme school fees problems. I would literally spend a whole term after another in the village having been sent away to get fees. Then, I had 3 of my immediate elder sisters in high school as well. At no point did my dad ever tell any of us to drop out of school due to the fees challenges. He would always look for the little he could get and share among all of us.

I remember one event with nostalgia. Having stayed home for more than 2 months, he sold one cow towards raising my school fees. When the buyer came, he called me to join them under a tree where which now sits in front of my house in the village. He asked the guy how much money he had brought for the cow. The young man informed him of the exact figure and he asked him to hand over all the cash including any coins that he may have to me as the cow was being sold with the aim of paying my fees. That is what Nick Arodi ‘Jasuit ‘was, he would not take a bite from what belonged to anyone. He would then ask me to decide what mattered from that money; to decide if I needed fees or pocket money more and do what I thought was wise with the cash. I would certainly take all the cash to Yala as fees having taken out Kshs. 80 for bus fare.

Out of the many episodes of my being home instead of school for fees, he once told me not to panic or consider myself a school failure. It pained him that my class position was changing considerably due to the absence from classroom. To this, he said to me that I would most likely not make a direct entry to the universitie but will certainly live to pay for my university education on my own. This has come to pass. Another long story. Arodi Kochola was an inspiring father.

When I faced the first conflict in my workplace, I went to see him for counsel. His guidance changed me to this date. He reminded me that I do not go to the office to be loved as that is not my parents’ house. That I go there to work and no one has an obligation to love me; all I needed to do is to learn to live with those who loved me and those who did not but always remember to do my work well, very professionally always. He is the one who directed me to always seek out people I have conflict with even if they were my bosses, that it was important to explain my feelings to those who were in position of authority over me and get their point of view as well. This has made me come out as abrasive and annoying or even arrogant but again I live up to what I was advised to be.

Arodi Kochola believed in strict punctuality and one being consistent. He always told me to ensure that the person whom I met in high school, the one in my first job and the last job always remember me for consistency and being principled. Never to say a yes and mean no and vice versa. Never to promise someone what you will not give as raising hope in people falsely is a bad trait. Those who know me understand how I do not provide for more than 5 minutes waiting time on my appointments.  I operate on absolutes and not time ranges in making appointments. That I was taught by my old man, my friend and father. Last year in the presence of my brothers Jeff and Steve, he asked that I consider waiting for people or appointments for 15 minutes and not 5 only.

One of dad’s key philosophies was to help those in need. He always asked me to help anyone who came to me especially those who needed school fees for their children, food or clothing. He would send people to me who thought I was difficult to approach and as late as 2 months ago, he was telling me how he always tells people not to fear asking me for assistance for I would assist if I am able to. To this end, dad always told me that if one asked me for say Kshs. 2000 and I had Kshs. 2300; I should consider giving that person what they have asked for as I know not what made them see me as their last hope. And that the sun never sets before something better happens to those who did good during the day. He advocated a life of ensuring one earns at least one ‘thank you’ before sunset. Thank you dad for making me get so many ‘thank yous’ in my life.

On respect, my father always reminded me to respect ALL regardless of whether they were young or old, rich or poor as I had no knowledge of their circumstances or fate. He would always remind me,’Kik icha dhano moro amora ma yueyo’ (Never despise any human being that still breathes). I know I am firm as a person but remain respectful to as many people as I can possibly and humanely respect.

We are a family of slender build just like he was. He used to tell me many years ago that being slender comes at a cost many times. That I would meet people who would consider me not worth their attention or respect because they thought a slender body belongs to the suffering. He used to say that being slender is not a sickness and no one should make me feel inferior for being slender build. I have added a few kilos to my slender frame and I think I am now looking a little important. He built confidence in me whenever I doubted my abilities based on what people thought of me or based on my build. You leave me immensely and incomparably confident as a person and as a professional.

Whenever I have wanted to change or leave jobs, the ONLY person I ever asked for an opinion was my dad. I have moved many jobs over the years and even left employment to be jobless and all those cases have been with his approval. Whenever I would share with him my decision, he would only ask me one question,’How do you feel about it?’. If I said Yes, he would tell me to proceed. And I would and never look back. In my joblessness or in the next jobs, he would always ask to find if I fitted in well. You made me dare dad. You were an awesome father to me.

My dad was the only living human who would tell with accuracy when I was broke. He would just look at me and tell me, ’Boss, today you have no money and I can tell, can I go get you some from my bank account? You do not have to refund since when you have money you also give me some’. If I truly needed his support, I would say yes and he would go bring me a little cash which I would either refund or not depending on what terms he insisted on. That was the father of a working son who could once in a while run out of cash.

Many times my dad has reminded me of the value of friendship. One day he told me that one can have friends who care about them more than their own parents or siblings. He gave me a formula I use to this day. He believed that every person has only 3 true friends in life at most. These friends may not even be their family. He used to give me an analogy of his best friend Joseph Ondiege ‘Bim’ whom we all grew around as his pal through thick and thin. He has met so many of my friends and he knows what type of people they all are. He has never forgotten anyone he has met as my friend and recalls them by where they come from. In teaching me about keeping friendships, I became his great friend and he mine.

Some memorable statement from my old man that I shall always carry:

You may love your mother yes but the only person who truly knows and loves your mother is the husband who happens to be me. I know her as a mother, a wife and a woman while you only know her as a mother. Always remember, your mother is my wife.

When you have a conflict with your mother, please accord her the respect your accord someone’s wife, do not just confront her. Talk to me as her husband bout your concerns and I shall pick the right timing and mood to talk to her about it.

That you are in a polygamous family presents a dilemma to you as children. You are tempted to join in and at times drawn in the rivalry between your mothers. What you always need to remember before joining in is that you cannot provide whatever your mothers are fighting over. I have that monopoly.

When faced with a situation that requires quick response from you as a large family;  assume you were born alone and ask yourself what you would have done if that was the case then do it to your best.

Always try to have someone say thank you to you before sunset, every day.

Do good always, those who thank you for doing them good ensure your day ends better at sunset.

If you are a poor feeder, do not despise those who are good and heavy feeders. Let them be and do not make comments on the quantity of the food they are taking.

Respect every human being regardless of their age and status. You have no control of their fate and have no idea what they will be tomorrow.

Your beginning will never be the same as your ending and vice versa.

Do not throw away old clothes or those you do not like; what is old to you is new to someone somewhere. Go find that someone and give him the clothes.

I celebrate my father in many ways, I can talk or write about my dad for months without stop but again life is for the living as he said to me, ’When I finally die, do not mourn for too long and forget that you are alive; pick up the pieces as soon as you can and move your families forward’. I will not stop my life yes but I have paused it in your honour Wuod Ochola.

I will live to be whatever you desired me and us to be.

I shall be to my child the father you were to me.

I will be to the society, the person you were to the society.

I will be to my friends, the friend you were to me.

I will be an inspiration to many as you were to me.

I will carry your name with dignity as you always demanded of us.

Rest in Peace Mzee Arodi, my father, our father, my friend, my inspiration, my confidant, my role model, my advisor and sounding board.