It used to be very rare to find a man who carried the title of father without also carrying the full weight of its responsibilities. The word man itself once commanded deep respect, and the transition from husband to father was seen as natural, seamless and dignified.
How did our ancestors manage polygamous homes in those days? I come from large families on both my maternal and paternal sides. My maternal grandfather had 29 children from seven wives, yet by the time I was old enough to understand family life, only three wives were still living with him.
Baba’s life revolved around providing for his family and training them. He accepted no financial help from his wives, yet we ate well, and his children attended some of the best schools.
Whenever school was about to resume, Baba would buy provisions in bulk and distribute them among the children, including relatives and even his brothers’ children. It was always exciting running around delivering toiletries, biscuits, cereals and other items to each household.
As loved as Baba was, everyone—including even babies—knew that the fear of Baba was the beginning of wisdom. Even the most stubborn child behaved in his presence. Crying babies would suddenly become quiet.
Nobody spoke carelessly; only answers to his questions were allowed. At such moments, the silence was so deep that even a pin drop could be heard.
Baba was in full control of his household. There was order whenever he was around, but the house became noisy the moment he stepped out. His wives understood clearly what was expected of them in order to maintain peace. He ruled with authority and discipline.
That was the pattern in many homes in those days. You could easily tell when a father was not at home. Fathers were respected, and they earned that respect as providers, protectors, defenders and the pillars of their families.
It was unheard of for a mother to openly disrespect a father—such a thing was considered an abomination. It was even more unthinkable for a child to do so. The phrase “who born you?” carried weight, and such a child would be treated as an outcast.
Changing realities in the home
Two years ago, a young man posted his mother’s picture on Father’s Day and poured encomiums on her. One line stood out: “I celebrate you as the only authority that put me on track… my father who is also my mother.”
In those few words, he revealed a painful reality—while a man biologically brought him into the world, he failed in his role as a father, and his mother stepped in to fill that gap.
She provided, guided, prayed, and loved him unconditionally. From all indications, he turned out well. Unfortunately, such stories are no longer rare.
African tradition once placed men as firm authority figures—strong, responsible heads of their homes. They were expected to provide leadership, stability and direction. Wealth was measured in farms, land and productivity, and large families were once seen as a sign of prosperity.
But in today’s Nigeria, the reality has changed. In many cases, poor men give birth to more children than they can cater for, often with the hope that the children will later take care of them. This mindset has contributed to cycles of poverty and deep social strain.
The consequences are visible everywhere: child labour, trafficking, prostitution and other social vices. There are cases where children are forced into dangerous activities such as illegal mining, while others are sent into domestic servitude in exchange for education or survival. The recent viral case of a 10-year-old houseboy allegedly maltreated by his mistress is only one among many disturbing examples.
Broken responsibility, rising social costs
The absence of a responsible father figure is increasingly linked to teenage prostitution. In situations of hunger and extreme poverty, some young people are pushed into survival choices that expose them to exploitation and abuse. When need becomes urgent, desperation often overrides morality.
The Plateau State Gender and Equal Opportunities Commission, led by Barrister Olivia Dazyam, has also identified parental abandonment as one of the drivers of teenage prostitution, child labour and other social vices in society.
When parents fail in their responsibilities under harsh economic conditions, children are forced into survival strategies that strip them of childhood. In some cases, children are handed over to relatives or strangers to work in exchange for training or stipends. In worse situations, they are sent far away from home as domestic servants.
The most troubling cases are those where children are knowingly pushed into prostitution under the excuse of poverty. This raises a fundamental moral question: are children meant to provide for parents, or parents for children?
Today, it is increasingly common to see children working in roles meant for adults, while parents remain idle. The natural order of responsibility appears to have been reversed.
Restoring the meaning of fatherhood
Unless fathers and parents reclaim their responsibilities as institutionally and morally ordained, and unless children are allowed to enjoy proper upbringing, protection and guidance, society risks losing its moral balance.
Families will lose authority, and the wider society will continue on a dangerous path of decline.
Fatherhood, once a symbol of strength, discipline and provision, is at a crossroads. What remains is whether society will restore its meaning—or allow it to fade into memory.