On the occasion of Father’s Day, I would like to share some compelling and timely insights I picked up from a conversation with a Bolt driver during one of my trips. I can’t recall what exactly sparked the conversation, but his words stayed with me. They opened my eyes to something many fathers may be missing—not out of neglect, but because of the way society has conditioned them to approach parenting.
There’s no denying that fathers, generally, are less appreciated for their contributions than mothers. The reasons are varied, but I won’t bore you with an exhaustive list or echo familiar arguments.
What’s important to note is that when fathers seek recognition for their efforts—or express disappointment about the lack of it—it’s not an attempt to compete with mothers. Men and women do not parent in rivalry. But like every human being, fathers, too, crave appreciation. Whether rich or poor, young or old, being appreciated encourages people to give more of themselves.
Even the Almighty God yearns for our thanksgiving and praise. So why not an earthly father?
A Ride That Changed My Perspective
During that Bolt ride in Accra, the young driver spoke with clarity and conviction about what he had intentionally started doing to improve his relationship with his children.
The first major shift, he said, was instructing his wife to stop portraying him as the sole enforcer of discipline in the home.
According to him, she had a habit of issuing warnings like, “Your father will punish you,” or “Wait till your father gets home.” These messages, he explained, were turning him into a figure of fear, rather than love, in the eyes of his children.
“This narrative,” he said, “exists in too many homes, and it pushes children away from their fathers. They grow up fearing you, not loving you. And that disconnect can last a lifetime.”
So, he made a conscious effort to shift that narrative. He asked his wife to discipline the children when needed, without delegating that role to him alone. More importantly, he began forging a personal relationship with his children—one that wasn’t based on fear.
He started spending more time with them, buying them gifts, talking to them, and changing how he guided and disciplined them. Instead of beating or shouting, he corrected with love. He shared a moment when he had to apologise to one of his children for shouting unfairly. That apology, he said, marked the beginning of a warmer connection with his child.
He also began handling more financial responsibilities himself, like paying school fees, so the children could see firsthand what he was doing for them. The results were immediate and heartwarming: the children started waiting to see him before going to bed and wanting to spend more time with him.
“I started enjoying the warmth of fatherhood when I made these changes,” he told me.
He recounted a conversation with an elderly passenger who admitted that his children were now distant because he had been too hard on them when they were young.
A Second Encounter on Father’s Day
I hadn’t planned to write about that Bolt driver’s story—until another encounter, coincidentally on Father’s Day, compelled me to.
This morning, a Yango driver picked me up and, as soon as I got into the car, wished me a Happy Father’s Day. He then began talking about how fathers are not appreciated enough, and how some women may unknowingly or intentionally contribute to that by failing to create space for fathers to be visible in the children’s lives.
I told him about the earlier conversation I had with the Bolt driver. To my surprise, the Yango driver shared similar experiences. He, too, had made intentional changes.
He now takes active roles in his children’s daily routines: taking them to school, bathing them, and spending quality time with them. Not only when their mother is away, but even when she is around. He’s made himself a permanent fixture in their lives—not just a provider, but a present and loving parent.
“Boss, today the kids woke me up very early and wished me Happy Father’s Day,” he said with teary emotion. “They told me how amazing I’ve been as a father. I stood there for minutes, not knowing what to say. I was overwhelmed with joy.”
A Hopeful Shift in the Narrative
The stories of these two young men gave me hope that fathers in this generation are becoming more self-aware and are rewriting the script on fatherhood.
Biologically and socially, mothers begin with an advantage when it comes to bonding. They carry the child in the womb for nine months, breastfeed them, and are often the first point of comfort. Fathers tend to come into full view only later.
This is why men must be intentional and strategic about bonding with their children—not just through financial provision, but through presence, participation, and emotional availability.
You can have the most supportive wife, one who explains to the kids what Daddy does—but that still won’t replace the powerful impact of your physical presence and active involvement.
In the end, actions speak louder than money. And if we, as men, don’t change the narrative ourselves, we can’t expect the recognition we desire. Fathers must not be feared. They must be loved, cherished, and respected. And that comes from showing up, not just paying up.
