“But watoto wa siku hizi (current generation), you mean you can disappear from home because of KES 1,000? Do you think we value money more than we value you?”

That was the question my mum asked me after hearing the story of her friend’s son who had fled from home after misusing KES 1,000 that had been meant for his holiday tuition fee.

Now, KES 1,000 was good money back then. It could easily cover a significant portion of household shopping. So for this boy to leave home because of it, he must have known just how disappointed his parents would be.

For years, and especially now that I am a parent myself, that story has stayed with me.

It hit me again when I came across a post that said:

“Shucks, I have messed up. My folks will kill me.”

Or:

“Shucks, I have messed up. I need to call my folks.”

Then came the question:

What kind of parent are you?

That question sat with me.

Because the truth is, we often condition our children to respond to us in a particular way when they mess up. Sometimes, without realizing it, we teach them whether home is a safe place to return to or a place to run from.

Have we built enough trust for our children to run to us when they have messed up? Or have we made them so afraid of our reaction that their first instinct is to hide, lie, or disappear?

How do we keep the relationship strong, even when they have messed up badly?

Here are three lessons I keep coming back to.

1. Don’t react. Respond.

My mother, Re, is one of the calmest souls I know.

Whenever we messed up, she remained calm. Calm enough to hear the whole story. Calm enough to ask questions. Calm enough to understand what prompted the mistake. Calm enough to help us draw lessons from it.

Yes, sometimes the matter still ended in punishment because actions have consequences. But her initial response built something important in us: confidence.

We knew we could go to her, no matter how ugly the situation was.

That kind of calm does not mean weakness. It means emotional leadership. It means telling your child, “What you did was wrong, but you are still safe with me.”

2. Separate the mistake from the child.

A child who has done something wrong should not walk away believing they are wrong.

There is a difference between saying, “What you did was irresponsible,” and saying, “You are irresponsible.”

One addresses the action. The other attacks identity.

Children need correction, yes. But they also need to know that their value is not destroyed by their mistakes. When we shame them, we may get silence instead of honesty. We may get fear instead of growth.

The goal is not just to raise children who fear consequences. The goal is to raise children who can face truth, take responsibility, and still know they are loved.

3. Build the bridge before the crisis.

Trust is not built in the moment of crisis. It is tested there.

The time to build safety with our children is in the everyday moments, when they tell small truths, ask uncomfortable questions, admit minor mistakes, or share things we do not fully understand.

If we overreact to the small things, they may never bring us the big things.

So we must ask ourselves: How do we respond when they spill juice, fail a test, lose something, lie about homework, or make a poor decision?

Those moments are rehearsals.

Each response is quietly teaching them, “Can I come to you when things are worse than this?”

Because one day, the issue may not be KES 1,000.

It may be something heavier. Something more painful. Something more complicated.

And when that day comes, I hope our children will not say, “My folks will kill me.”

I hope they will say, “I need to call home.”