#MeToo Fallout + Afro In Heels + A Father in Botswana: Letlhogonolo Peter

A couple of posts ago, I wrote about abuse I’ve experienced at the hands of family members. When I learned some people only partly understand what the #MeToo movement is, my last post clarified how #MeToo is about survivors. #MeToo stops the cycle, lets survivors know they’re not alone, and teaches compassion. When I unburdened myself of keeping lifelong secrets to protect those who abused me and those who enabled them, it was to join all who work toward a better world. My father passed away years ago. My brother is past retirement age and past putting his now adult kids through college. (As you might imagine, the emotional hangover has wrecked havoc on my novel writing.)

I’m utterly indebted, dear virtual friends, for the kind words of many of you. My real life dear ones, who I call family rather than relatives, have also helped me through.

Much as I’ve worked a lifetime to prove otherwise, call it my attempt to prove myself unique from the Western culture I’m part of, the world doesn’t contain enough emotional distance to escape that I am a leaf on an ancestral tree wherein those on the closest branches have the least genuine regard for me. Hey, if I’m going to go out on a limb with this tree analogy, then let my #MeToo position me as a seedling poised toward the sunlight, my roots set on exploitation-free connections.

Over the years before #MeToo, I had spoken out to select relatives. One gaslighted me and said I think too much. An extended relative made it clear they didn’t want me making waves. One severed contact when I mentioned my intention to write a letter to our father, stating that while I wouldn’t tell other relatives, I was done covering for our father. This relative became unhinged because, according to them, I didn’t love my abuser enough. Prior to that short period of speaking to me, this same elder and far larger relative had spent decades ignoring my attempts to connect. That time (again, logic anyone?), they’d fumed because when I was a pre-schooler, our father sometimes spanked them when they slugged me.

Since my #MeToo post, one says I overstepped their boundaries because I’m only trying to create divisions among relatives.

Kind people call me brave. I wish I’d known ages ago that I would gain much more than I’ve lost. As relatives who only pretend to care for me fall away, caring friends and family shine brighter than ever.

Zumba, of all things, also helps me through this! Exercise and happy dance where classmates cheer each other on touches my heart. It’s a reminder that I’m more than my thoughts and actions, more than a head with a body only for the sake of feeding and watering it. As I googled dance that shares the spirit of Zumba, this Afro in Heels video brought tears to my eyes with its celebration of how wonderful it is to be human and alive. Choreographer/teacher Patience J is based in London. If you don’t have time to watch the entire video, it shows her diverse students, each with their individual flair. The outstanding fun spirit of the trio at 7:30 especially makes me smile. Who are your favorites?…

Today’s guest, Letlhogonolo Peter blogs from Botswana on his site, LetsAbout. He’s a media professional, writer, and storyteller. When he posted about his eagerness to become the best father he can, I invited him to tell us more.

On the traditions of fatherhood in Botswana, he wrote:

“Fatherhood in Botswana is deeply rooted in cultural traditions that emphasize responsibility, respect, and family unity. A father is regarded as the head of the household and the primary provider for his family. His role is not only to ensure financial stability but also to uphold the family’s values, discipline, and overall well-being.

“One significant tradition is the waiting period before a father meets his newborn child. This practice allows the mother and baby to bond while the father prepares mentally and emotionally for his new role. During this time, the father relies on family members and elders to guide him on what it means to be a parent. His duty extends beyond his immediate household, as he is also expected to contribute to the well-being of his extended family, reinforcing the communal nature of Botswana’s society.

“Fathers play a vital role in instilling cultural and moral values in their children. As children grow, fathers are responsible for teaching them about respect, hard work, and their heritage. This is often done through storytelling, guidance, and participation in traditional ceremonies that mark different stages of life.”

Months after her birth, Letlhogonolo Peter will finally meet my daughter in April. The waiting period is intended to allow mother and child to bond while the father prepares for his new role.

Becoming Father, A Journey Rooted in Tradition by Letlhogonolo Peter

In Botswana, fatherhood is a role profoundly shaped by tradition. One of the most significant practices is the waiting period before a father meets their newborn. This custom allows the mother and child time to bond while the father prepares emotionally and mentally for his new responsibilities. It is a tradition that fosters patience and reverence for the process of becoming a parent.

My journey into fatherhood reflects this cultural experience. On December 15, 2024, my daughter Lowapi was born at Princess Marina Hospital in Gaborone. Her name, meaning “sky” in Setswana, symbolizes endless possibilities and hope. At 4.5 kg and 51 cm long, she represents the beginning of a new chapter in my life. Yet, as is customary in Botswana, I have not yet met her in person. Instead, I’ve connected with her through photos and videos, cherishing these glimpses of her life while anticipating our first meeting in April.

This waiting period has been a time of profound introspection. It has given me the opportunity to reflect on what it means to be a father and to prepare myself for the responsibilities and joys that lie ahead. Fatherhood, as I’ve come to understand, is as much about emotional and mental preparation as it is about physical presence. It’s about embracing the values of love, care, and responsibility while honoring the traditions that define us.

When I finally meet Lowapi, it will be a moment of transformation, solidifying my identity as a father. This journey has shown me that identity is not static; it evolves with our roles and experiences. By balancing cultural heritage with personal growth, fatherhood becomes a profound expression of who we are and who we aspire to be.

For me, fatherhood is not just about guiding and nurturing my daughter it’s about learning and growing alongside her. It’s a journey shaped by love, tradition, and the anticipation of a life shared together.

How much does your culture shape you?