Quantity Time.

I spent this last weekend at the Kasarani Aquatic Centre. Sounds like a posh place. Well, it was built to be posh, but years of mismanagement and neglect have left the place in a sorry state. Many of the facilities are in disrepair, and it’s quite disheartening. I really wish we could up our game and keep standards as they were meant to be. The Kasarani complex was built to world-class standards, but it’s a far cry from that currently. Anyway, at least they have a 50-metre swimming pool—which is why I was there.

You see, all my baby sharks are just that: sharks. Who would have known that I was being prophetic when I called them baby sharks as toddlers? Swimming accounts for a huge chunk of our household planning and budget. My three young ones are each members of a swimming club, in addition to swimming for their school. We spend many weekends at swimming galas.
Having been away from home for almost two weeks (I’m still on cloud nine from that SA trip), I decided to take the totos for this gala. Plus, I had missed them. I wanted to hang out with them—though, in their teenage years, they pretended not to want my stories. I was even given instructions not to shout when cheering for them as they swim. Image is everything to Gen Zs hehe. I think they are very happy we cheer them on, but they don’t want to appear needy in front of their pals. At least my little Gen Alpha was happy to sit with me.
We woke up early on Saturday, prepared breakfast for them and snacks for the day, and off we went towards Thika Road. We arrived at Kasarani, and the kids all went to sit with their respective clubs. I decided to sit with my youngest one at her club. She was happy to chill with her dad—though I was more like her butler: providing snacks when she asked, preparing her towel after a swim, and following her to the pool to record her race. I didn’t mind it at all. The place was buzzing with activity, and now and then, my son and his older sister would come to touch base with me. Kumbe, they still care that I was there, hehe.

It felt nice being there and watching all the activity. Mums and dads were shouting their voices hoarse while cheering for their kids. Others, like me, were shuttling food from one child to another as if we were food vendors (maybe I actually was in this case, hehe). My household did well; I was proud of them. I even became the ‘hanger’ for their medals, wearing them proudly. The day ended at about 7 pm. We had to postpone some races to the next day, as it was getting too dark to swim. It was a long day, and my baby sharks dozed off as we drove home.
The drill was similar the following day. We got to Kasarani with our supplies, and everyone sat at their respective club positions. My brood got into their races, and when not in the water, they chatted with their pals and watched TikTok videos on their gadgets. We observe more when we sit back and watch life unfold. I didn’t chat with my fellow parents much, though. I found myself in conversations with some of them on and off. I enjoyed watching parents cheering on their children. It was heart-warming. We keep doing it, even when we don’t see the results immediately.
Parenting is one of those investments that bear fruit in the future. We have to keep pouring in our time and resources, hoping and praying that our kids will turn out better than their parents did. At least that is my desire: that my kijana will be a better man than his father is. For now, we keep grinding, as that’s the responsibility we have.
I noticed that my baby sharks, especially the youngest one, checked in with me throughout. It reminded me that for children, quality time is quantity time. Maybe as a dad, I was just meant to take them to their gala, feed them, and listen to their random stories.

I was happy to be ‘where my feet are’ and got some confirmation of that. I was able to hear from my kids about what is going on in their lives. Their stories ranged from friendship dynamics to fears about the races they preferred over others. They even shared some private concerns on matters that, to me, are minor—but to them, are quite significant. I didn’t have answers to all their concerns. But maybe that’s not what they were looking for. I just listened and laughed along, as most were quite funny. If their sense of humour is anything to go by, then I can confirm that these are my offspring, hehe.
As I reflect on that weekend spent entirely with my kids, I wonder whether I have missed out on many milestones of growth by not spending as much time with them. They say the best time to plant a tree was yesterday; the next best time is today. So, there is no need to cry over spilt milk. 

To my fellow parents in the house, may we seek out blocks of time to spend with our children and significant others. Despite buying those expensive snacks at Kasarani, it’s not the money spent that we will remember. It’s the time we spent at these galas and the bonds we created as they grew up. I had hoped that their main sport would be golf, but I lost that battle. Since I couldn’t beat them, I joined them—not in the swimming, but in the facilitation and ‘Uber services’, hehe.
I want to be more intentional now in carving out more periods of time like last weekend, just hanging out with my people. Maybe I’m subconsciously buying future insurance so that they also want to hang out with me in my old age. I’ve heard stories of men being left out in the cold, all lonely by their families. I doubt it’s a case of bad luck; they could just be reaping what they sowed earlier in life. I want a bumper harvest, so let me panda well.
May we fill the cups of others even as we fill our own; after all, the years ahead are better shared than spent alone. Social wealth is key to the future.