To The Greatest Dad In The World

My years of college were spent in Sudan, where, for the first time, I was surrounded by Sudanese people from all sides, and found out that the world is not half as perfect as a lifetime in SQU made it look. I saw people from all kinds of backgrounds coming together to study that science that the Sudanese nation (and many other nations) sees as divine: Medicine. Not only the people I studied with, but also the people I was related to. We were different in hundreds of ways: the way we talk, dress and eat, the way we prioritize our finances, our goals in life, and the families we belong to. All their stories made me more and more thankful for my parents every day.

After college I moved to Oman to pursue my career. It was just me and my dad in the house, with the rest of the family coming and going during the holidays. I am curious to know what he made of those 5 years; because if I were in his place I’m not sure I would have enjoyed it much. I did the cooking, and I’m not a very good cook. However, my dad always ate whatever I served with no complaints whatsoever. Sometimes when the thing on the table was unidentifiable, he would politely ask what it was, and then eat it anyway. When the thing was both identifiable and edible, he would compliment my cooking. He made his own bed, arranged his own clothes and organized his things by himself. He wouldn’t let me buy a car because he already had one, and anytime I needed it, it was there, and there was no need for me to waste my money on anything that wasn’t for my education or career. Often he would come back early from an outing just because I had an appointment somewhere and needed it. He never complained about the parking and speeding tickets that he had to pay for me (but I always tried to pay those myself but sometimes forgot). Once, for a whole month, he walked to and from work in the baking heat so that I wouldn’t have to rent a car to drive to a far-off hospital that I had some training in. He never once asked me how much I get paid at work, and any time I needed money, it was there. I was free to travel as I want, wherever and whenever, and he would always pitch in even if I didn’t need it. Despite all the hell I gave him, he never complained about having me around. Anytime I needed advice about work, studies, relationships, etc. he was there, and I was free to make my own decision in the end, even if he thought otherwise. I broke his suit buttons, lost the jack in his car, accidentally washed his white clothes with something blue, forgot to pack his lunch about a thousand times, and was just plain annoying most of the time. But he always was, and always will be, the nicest, funniest, friendliest, most caring, most trustworthy, and the most loved father in the world. I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused, all the things I broke or ruined, all the money I squandered, and all the promises I broke. And I hope more than anything that one day I will meet someone who will be as great a father to my children as you were and still are to us.

Thank you, Baba. For everything.

ربنا يطول و يبارك في عمرك و يخليك لينا انشاءالله