Nor did the taboo of mixed marriages fade the love you had for me.

It was 1999 when you fell in love with mom, in the City of Gold. The ‘how can black and white blend together’ didn’t make you back down but cemented your love for one another.

Five years later the power of your love prepared a foetus – soon to be called your princess – in the world of racial injustice.

Happiness was hard to reveal itself the minute your family knew that you were expecting a baby girl with a black woman. Mom was told to migrate to a new place, or blood would be shed.

The village of Qwa Qwa was the place of my birth. Even though you missed the moment, you made sure that you arrived to witness the growth of your princess.

Your young soul escaped home leaving many opportunities in the city, just to settle in the village with not so much knowledge of the environment. This is one of the reasons I admire you.

You worked so hard on the farm, be it rainy or sunny days. You always woke up before the rooster – just to see me go to school.

The little cents you had were enough to give mom a dignified funeral. Even though it was hard for you to move on. You always encouraged me to do more in life.

Your coughing at night worried my soul, but you told me that everything was fine. “It’s just a little bit of flu,” you stated.

You always made sure that no one messed with my crown. It was neat on each of my primary school days. All thanks to you. I still embrace it.

You were the best cook when it came to western food, even mom would get jealous sometimes, but she always knew that her throne was with indigenous food.

The cough that gave you problems took you away from me. But Dad, you said everything was fine. You said it was “just a little bit of flu”. But the “flu” swept your spirit away from me.

Now it’s time for your grown princess to introduce herself to your family as their blood. I will go there with courage and respect just the way you have taught me.

It will be up to them if they accept me – a combination of black and white. Courage and respect as I said is what I will go with.

If I could call heaven, I would tell you the good news.

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This was one of the runners-up entries in the My Father essay writing competition. Click here to read other excellent essays from the competition.