As my family and I were walking from the parking lot into the church, I reminded Ofu,

“Hey, Papi, please remember to remove your hat when we enter the church.”

Then he blotted, “But why?”

Me: “Men and boys don’t wear hats in the church.”

Ofu: “I want to know why.”

Me: “It’s a mark of respect for God as we worship Him. It’s like how we remove our caps when we sing the national anthem.”

Ofu: “Ooo! Why is it that boys have to be the ones giving up everything? Boys can’t wear hats in the church. Boys can’t hit girls, yet they hit boys all the time.”

Me: “Oh no. We can’t hit girls. You’re right. We walk away. Let’s talk about this when we get out of church. Ok?”

He grudgingly agreed.

When we entered the church, no pew could seat five of us, so the boys joined Sweetheart on the left side of the middle sets while Agbenu and I sat on the right.

As I looked to check, I saw a man sitting a few pews ahead of where Sweetheart and the boys were sitting. He wore a headband. I had seen him in previous Masses with his head tied. I knew that if Ofu sees him, we will be in for a long argument after Mass. Well true to type, Ofu drew Sweetheart’s attention to the man. She later told me that she explained to him that the band-aid on the edge of his headband suggests that the man may have a medical condition going on with his head, and that’s why he may be wearing a headband.

At the end of Mass, the excitement of going to the donut shop with my brother and his family, whom we met in the church didn’t let Ofu pester on.

Once we got home and he ate his donut and drank his drink, and the “sugars” kicked in, he was happy and “high.” I called him and said,

“Papi, you were correct by saying boys can’t hit girls. I’m proud of you for knowing that and saying so. See, we have to act smart. We walk away when girls hit us. We can even be smarter by walking away before things get bad enough for them to want to hit us. And it’s not right for girls to hit boys; it’s just that two wrongs don’t make a right. Because we are stronger, if we hit girls, we can hurt them far more than they hurt us and will get us into big trouble. So are you going to act smart and even smarter?”

Ofu: “Yeah.”

Me: “Awesome. And guess what?”

Ofu: “What?”

Me: “At work, I don’t argue with ladies alone when they offend me. I wait until I have witnesses then I bring it up. That’s how I act smart as an adult?”

Agbenu: “Wait? Did you get into an argument with a lady at work?”

Me: “Sometimes I disagree with them, or they may offend me. But my principle is that I don’t argue with them alone as a safety measure for me and even them. I usually bring it up openly where I have other witnesses just in case they may change their story and I get into trouble. It’s just how things are. Men and boys have to be smart about it.”

Agbenu: “I can see why.”

Me: “Cool. So, Papi, I understand how you feel. But we got this! Right?”

Ofu: “Ok.”

Ofu’s concern validates a question that I have been pondering. The question is: “Do denigrating men contribute to women’s empowerment?” Understandably, women were historically oppressed, suppressed, and marginalized, which are all condemnable. However, correcting it with the same measure against their male counterparts will cause further harm in the long term.

I believe this is what Ofu, my eleven-year-old son, also perceives and has difficulty understanding. As an adult, it is for this reason I formed my principle to not engage in a conflict with a lady without a witness. A coworker once said I had trust issues, but I told her that her interpretation didn’t matter to me but my safety.

• 2/5/2023