I just listened to Eminem’s Mockingbird, and it hit me hard because of the truth behind the words. It reminded me of something very close to home.

At the end of our hustle, when the money slows down and the work fades, the only thing we really have is family. But family doesn’t just happen. If we don’t give them our time, if we don’t build memories and bonds, we risk growing old surrounded by things, not people. Success without presence is failure in disguise.

That truth cut deeper when I thought about Alika, my 5-year-old daughter. Since January, I’ve promised to take her for her first train ride, one of those old 1900 trains in Uganda. I also promised her a trip to watch the Uganda Cranes. But promises remained promises.

One night I got home past midnight and found the kitchen tap broken. She was still awake, waiting. She told me she had tried to draw water but couldn’t open the tap, so she waited for me to return. She got tired of waiting and forced it until it broke.

That moment has never left me. It wasn’t just about a tap. It was about a child waiting for her father, counting on him, and being let down.

Mockingbird reminded me that children won’t always be children. They won’t always be waiting at the door, asking for our time. One day they grow up, and if we weren’t present, all we’re left with is regret.

So I’ve made up my mind. When I go back home, I will fulfil those promises; the train ride, the Cranes match. But more importantly, I will give her my time. Because she deserves my presence, not just my provision.