A Letter to my Father

Michael Jackson died today; the news came in as I read mamarita’s comment asking for updates to this blog. I dropped off the radar for a bit there, still a lot of unfinished business.
The folks at work all had different opinions on his life, music, legacy, finances, legal issues and all. One sure thing that kept arising was his “childhood” & abusive father. This was used to explain away his weirdness in one way or another.
I have my opinions on parents spanking kids, coming from Nigeria I can sit on any side of that table & present a solid argument on the social impact of this kind of parenting but, this isn’t what this is about.
Who was Joseph Walter Jackson?
An abusive control freak or the greatest musical manager of all time?

I try to be like my father, but have very little memory of him
Every time mom says “just like your father” I can’t help but imagine who he was to leave such a lasting impression. What made me behave in a similar fashion leading up to the statement? Is it from reading the endless papers he authored, the books he read, finishing the math assignments he never completed in his school days? or could it be an inherent genetic cocktail?
Two things I know for certain about him. He loved chemistry, & he was scared of mom. Both are true with me though I haven’t met someone who wasn’t awed by her iron lady persona.

I remember him playing in the rain with me, mom watched from the kitchen.
I remember his laugh; it was so odd it made you laugh.
I remember his grip; gentle but secure in the middle of the market.
his work was important, the Governor visited us once.
I remember his eyes once I was sick, worried but filled with strength.
I remember him kiss mom then send me away.
One day driving an Indian chap called him a black monkey!
In Kaduna!
I saw a powerful man that day, I will never forget.
At times the memory is spotty,
I hold on to as much as i can.
Today, I am my own king.
He was my father.

M.K.A.

Aug. 25 1939 – Apr. 13 1986