It's a sad moment, really, when parents first become a bit

Hear the words of Ama Ata Aidoo, the daughter of Ghana, whose voice carried both sorrow and wisdom: “It’s a sad moment, really, when parents first become a bit frightened of their children.” This is no idle thought, but a lament that echoes across the generations. It speaks of a reversal of nature, when those who once guided with authority begin to tremble before the very ones they nurtured. In these few words lies the tragedy of distance between generations, of love strained by fear, of power exchanged not with tenderness but with unease.

The sadness springs from the natural order being overturned. The child, who once clung to a mother’s hand or sought a father’s wisdom, grows in strength, in will, in voice. But when that strength becomes something that inspires fear instead of pride, the balance of the household falters. The parent, who once held the mantle of protection, now feels the weight of vulnerability. This is not merely about physical dominance, but about the loss of reverence, the moment when respect gives way to rebellion, and love is overshadowed by mistrust.

The ancients too knew of this. In the stories of King Lear, though not from Aidoo’s homeland but from another tradition, an old father gives power to his daughters, only to find that their ambition and cruelty leave him trembling in despair. Once mighty, he became fearful in the presence of those he had raised. It is the same truth Aidoo names: that nothing pierces the heart so deeply as realizing that the bond between parent and child has turned from love into fear.

History gives us many such moments. In Rome, when emperors crowned their sons as co-rulers, fathers sometimes met death at the hand of their own children, eager to seize power early. The very heirs they had raised with care became their undoing. In humbler ways