I remember the way you’d come home
dust on your shoes, silence in your eyes,
but somehow, love in your tired smile.
You never said much…
but your life spoke louder than words ever could.
You were the man who gave up new shirts
so we could wear uniforms with pride.
The man who fixed broken doors
and sometimes broke inside too
but we never saw that part, did we?
You taught us faith,
not just the kind we read in the Bible,
but the kind you lived
when the bills piled up
and you still made sure we never lacked.
When the world mocked your simplicity,
but you stayed true, stayed kind, stayed strong.
Your hands—rough, steady, sure
held everything together.
Held us when we were small.
Held prayers in the night
when no one else heard your quiet “Amen.”
You taught us that real men cry
not always with tears,
but in the way they forgive,
in the way they stay,
in the way they love without needing applause.
And now, as we stand taller,
it’s because we stood on your shoulders.
As we walk straighter,
it’s because you bent so we could rise.
Dad, Papa, Baba, Padre, Père, Father
whatever we called you,
you were always more than the name.
You were our quiet hero.
Our earthly echo of a heavenly Father.
Today, we don’t just say “Happy Father’s Day.”
We say thank you.
We say we see you.
We say—because of you,
we know what love looks like in real life.
© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
Ifedolapo Ogunniyi 