EXAMINE WHAT YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATHER
By Dr Aaron Mujajati
There are stories that live in a family long after the people who started them have stopped telling them. In many homes across Zambia those stories shape how boys see their fathers, how young men carry themselves, and how families heal or stay broken. When a mother’s version of events becomes the only version a son hears, it can harden into a narrative that leaves little room for nuance. The father becomes a single note in a long song , the mistakes amplified, the good forgotten, the context erased. That is how resentment grows, quiet and steady, until it becomes a way of life.
This is not about excusing poor behaviour. Fathers make mistakes; they abandon, they shout, they fail to show up. Those wounds are real and deserve to be named. But so do the ways mothers shape the story. Omissions, exaggerations, and protective instincts can all tilt a child’s view.
A mother who paints the father as the villain without acknowledging her own choices or the complexity of the relationship is often trying to protect a child from pain. The unintended consequence is that the child grows up with a single-sided map of manhood, one that teaches dependence on the mother’s approval, fear of male authority, or an inability to form healthy relationships with other men.
The result shows up in different ways. Some young men become overly attached to their mothers, seeking permission for decisions that should be theirs to make. Others avoid men altogether, missing out on mentorship, discipline, and the quiet lessons that come from watching a father or uncle navigate life.
In communities where rites of passage and male mentorship have been weakened by urban migration and changing family structures, the absence of balanced parental narratives leaves a vacuum. That vacuum is often filled by resentment, confusion, and a fragile sense of identity.
Healing begins with truth and humility. Families must be brave enough to tell fuller stories, not to punish, but to teach. Mothers can protect their children and still acknowledge the ways they contributed to conflict. Fathers can own their mistakes and show, through consistent action, that they are more than the worst thing they have done. Sons can listen to both sides without becoming the judge. When a family allows complexity, it creates space for repair.
Communities have a role too. Churches, neighbourhood elders, extended family and mentors can offer the steadying presence that some fathers could not. A young man who spends time with an uncle who works with his hands, a coach who demands discipline, or a pastor who models integrity learns different ways of being a man than the ones he hears at home. These relationships do not replace parents, but they widen the map of what manhood can look like, responsibility, tenderness, accountability, and courage.
Practical steps matter. Families can start with conversations that are short, honest, and regular. A mother might say, “I was hurt and I reacted this way,” and a father might say, “I failed here and I want to do better.” Sons should be encouraged to ask for examples, not accusations: “What did you mean when you said…?” Community groups can create spaces where men and boys learn life skills together, fixing a roof, managing money, resolving conflict without violence. Schools and youth clubs can invite fathers and male mentors to participate, making male presence visible and varied.
This is not a call to blame mothers or to romanticize absent fathers. It is a call to refuse simple stories. It is a call to build households where truth is shared with care, where accountability is practiced without humiliation, and where young men are given models of strength that include tenderness. In Zambia, where family and community ties remain powerful, we have the tools to do this work if we choose to use them.
Resentment will not vanish overnight. It takes time, repeated acts of honesty, and the willingness of more than one person to change. But when families tell fuller stories, when mothers and fathers both claim their parts, and when communities step in to mentor and guide, young men can grow into whole adults, men who know how to stand on their own, how to love without fear, and how to pass on a better story to the next generation. You have heard.