Reflections and Perceptions
Reflections and Perceptions
BY Joshua Otieno Angasa
I hope our daughters will love me
as much as you guys love your Aabo.
That sentence-simple, but it lingers
like a shadow at golden hour,
soft, honest, unfiltered.
See, I stare at mirrors and moments,
trying to trace the outlines of a father
I’ve never met-yet somehow must become.
Trying to shape love from echoes,
build trust from silence,
and walk steady in rooms
where my reflection still doubts its own frame.
Perceptions.
They say men like us carry steel in our bones
but I’ve learned that tenderness is tougher.
That to raise daughters is to cradle
the future in your arms-
not with strength alone,
but with softness wrapped in consistency,
discipline dipped in laughter,
presence louder than promises.
I want to be her anchor,
the calm in her storm,
the lesson in her legacy.
Not just a provider,
but a presence-
the first man she ever trusts,
and never has to unlearn.
I wonder…
Will she hold my hand without fear?
Will she say “my Baba always showed up”?
Will she brag about me
the way you light up when you speak of your Aabo,
as if he wrote the blueprint of love on your soul?
That’s what I want.
Not perfection-
just enough love to feel immortal
in the eyes of someone who carries my name,
and maybe,
my laugh.
So I sit here,
in the stillness of this reflection,
praying that perception one day aligns-
that when she speaks of me,
it’ll be with the kind of reverence
you reserve for your Aabo.
Because if she loves me like that…
Then maybe,
just maybe,
I got it right.
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