I'm not a good father and they're not children any more; the

When Wilbur Smith confesses, “I’m not a good father and they’re not children any more; the eldest is in his fifties. My relationship with their mothers broke down and, because of what the law was, they went with their mothers and were imbued with their mothers' morality in life and they were not my people any more,” he speaks with the heavy voice of regret. His words carry the sorrow of one who has seen time pass beyond recall, and who feels estranged from those bound to him by blood yet distant in spirit.

The origin of this lament lies in Smith’s own life, a life both celebrated for literary triumphs and shadowed by personal struggles. He speaks not as a storyteller weaving fiction, but as a man admitting his failings. His role as father was fractured by broken relationships, by the pull of separation, and by the power of law, which carried his children away from his influence. In this, his words echo the age-old truth: that the bonds of family can be weakened when discord prevails between parents.

To say, “they were not my people any more” is a cry of alienation, a recognition that the passing of years and the shaping of values can divide even those joined by blood. The children, raised under the shadow of another’s teaching, grew into lives apart from his, carrying the imprint of their mothers’ morality. Smith’s sorrow reminds us that nurture and presence shape the soul as much as birth, and that absence in a child’s early days can create a gulf difficult to cross later.

Yet his admission also holds the austere wisdom of honesty. Few dare to speak so plainly of their shortcomings, yet Smith does, revealing that even a man of renown is not free from failure in the most intimate of duties. His words stand as both a confession and a warning — that the choices we make in relationships ripple through generations, shaping destinies beyond our sight.

Let the generations to come remember: the role of father or mother is not secured by blood alone, but by presence, nurture, and love. When relationships falter and children grow in another’s ways, estrangement may follow, leaving sorrow in its wake. Wilbur Smith’s words endure as a solemn teaching, that family is not merely inherited, but cultivated, and that to neglect it is to risk losing what is most precious.