Bye Bye Fatman

Bye Bye Fatman I'm a 50something year-old celebrating family, inter cultural life and trying to live a healthier lifestyle.
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I"m a 50something bloke on a mission to lose weight and transform my health and wellness.

11/12/2025

Sometimes people ask if Debra and I married for visa reasons. Let me be very clear. I did not marry my wife to get a Zambian passport. I married her because I love her. Full stop. Our story is built on love, family and commitment, not paperwork. Anyone who knows us knows that.

Passport Privilege: How History Shapes Our Family’s JourneyOne of the clearest lessons I have learned as a man with UK a...
11/12/2025

Passport Privilege: How History Shapes Our Family’s Journey

One of the clearest lessons I have learned as a man with UK and Irish passports married to a Zambian woman is that the world does not treat every passport equally. This inequality feels personal, not political, because it shapes where we can go as a family and how the world receives us at every border.

To understand why, you need to go back a century.

Modern passports did not always exist. Before the First World War international travel was far more fluid. People crossed borders with minimal paperwork and much of the world moved freely. After the war governments introduced passports to monitor movement, increase national security and control the flow of people across new and shifting borders. It was meant to be a temporary measure, a way to stabilise a fragile world. No one could have predicted the long term outcome. A system designed as a form of protection slowly created a global hierarchy of movement. Some passports opened doors with ease. Others began to restrict opportunity, mobility and freedom.

Fast forward to today and you can see the consequences everywhere. My UK and Irish passports grant me almost universal mobility. I am waved through immigration desks with a polite nod. For Debra it is a different experience entirely. With her Zambian passport she can visit only around seventy countries visa free or with visa on arrival. For the rest she faces paperwork, interviews, bank statements and long queues. The system created one hundred years ago to manage borders now decides who moves freely and who must prove their worth before they even pack a bag.

When we lived in Asia this difference shaped every journey we took. We travelled to Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia because they were visa on arrival for Zambians. Thailand required a visa application which we managed once but it was draining. Japan and Korea stayed on the wish list simply because the paperwork for Debra was overwhelming. My passport could carry me anywhere. Her passport set the limits for us as a family. And we travelled within those limits because we travel together as equals.

The passport you hold is not just a document. It is a mirror of global inequality.

When we travel as a family the differences become glaring. I am treated with trust before I speak a word. Debra is questioned, checked and sometimes scrutinised. Even when we stand as one unit the assumptions are different for each of us. Our children, still young, feel it less but they are learning early that the world reads passports before it reads people.

This is what passport privilege looks like. It does not shout. It whispers quietly through every border post, every queue, every form and every unspoken judgement. It affects millions of Africans who must fight to enter places where Europeans stroll in without a second thought.

I have no illusions. My opportunities in life are not just the result of hard work. They are built on the privilege of the passport I was handed at birth. Debra is every bit as capable and intelligent but the world does not give her the same freedom. That is the truth many prefer to ignore.

Our children will inherit a mix of these realities. Some of my mobility and some of the barriers their mother faces. That is what it means to grow up between continents. That is what it means to understand the world not through theory but through lived experience.

I do not feel guilt about my passport, but I feel responsible. Responsible to speak about this inequality. Responsible to use my platform to point out a truth that affects millions. Because until we acknowledge the weight of this system, we cannot hope to build one that is fairer, freer and more humane.

Passports were meant to protect a fragile post war world. No one foresaw that they would become symbols of advantage, symbols of restriction and symbols of global imbalance. And until we confront that reality, passport privilege will continue to decide who moves freely and who is held back.

10/12/2025

Before we moved to Zambia it is fair to say we were essentially stateless as a couple. Neither of us had an automatic right to live in the other’s country, even though we have been married almost eight years and together for more than thirteen. It is one of the great ironies of global mobility that it was far easier for us to live in third party countries than in our own. My Irish passport gave me the right to reside in the EU and, by extension, allowed Debra and the children to stay with me under EU family law. So Germany, France and the rest of Europe were more straightforward than either the UK or Zambia.

Now we are in Zambia and the situation is still complicated. I entered on a work permit and the spouse visa allows me to live here only if I do not work. After five years of residency I may finally be able to secure proper permanent residence. It is a strange feeling. You build a life with someone, you raise children together across continents and yet the world makes it harder for married couples from different countries to simply live as a family.

Global love is beautiful. Bureaucracy is not.

10/12/2025

If your wellbeing ends where someone else’s dignity begins then you have missed the point of being human.

10/12/2025

When we lived in Germany, I would sometimes papu Cian using one of Debra’s chitenges. As a father, I have always believed that parenting is a shared responsibility. That said, Debra would not forgive me if I did not add that she carried the lion’s share of the work with the children. And she truly did.

I used to love these walks with the family. Just being together, no rush, no pressure. We have always been a playful unit, right from when the kids were tiny.

And as you can hear from Michael in this video, he felt the need to announce to the world that I am Debra’s husband and that he saw us kissing. Loud and proud. No shame at all. That part still makes me laugh.

Why I Won’t Apologise for Speaking About Justice What always amuses me, worries me and sometimes genuinely concerns me i...
10/12/2025

Why I Won’t Apologise for Speaking About Justice

What always amuses me, worries me and sometimes genuinely concerns me is how some people think my posts are “controversial.” I find that bizarre. Truly.

Because when you strip everything back, what exactly am I saying that is so shocking? I speak about the common good, social justice, equality, human rights, dignity, compassion, protecting children and protecting the planet. Nothing fringe. Nothing extreme. Nothing new.

What I write echoes the Sustainable Development Goals of the United Nations. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The Convention on the Rights of the Child. It aligns with Catholic social teaching, gospel values, the ethics of most world religions, and the principles held by humanists across the world.

I advocate for sustainability, biodiversity and caring for ecosystems. I condemn misogyny, racism, violence, bullying and corporal punishment. I promote basic decency.

So I genuinely want someone to point out which part of this is controversial. Because the only people who seem “triggered” by these values are the ones who do not live by them. And that is not my problem. That is their mirror to look into.

On social media it is simple. If kindness, equality and justice offend you, do not follow me. I am not here for racists, misogynists, bullies or people who do not care about the environment. There is the door.

And in real life, let us be honest. Everything I speak about is exactly what a good school teaches. PSHE, character education, moral development. The things we want our children to grow up believing and embodying.

There is nothing controversial about human dignity. The controversy lies only in the hearts of those who reject it.

We found a tortoise wandering through our garden in Livingstone and the kids immediately fell in love with him. As tempt...
10/12/2025

We found a tortoise wandering through our garden in Livingstone and the kids immediately fell in love with him. As tempting as it was to keep him as a family pet, that would be both unethical and illegal. Wildlife belongs in the wild.

So we are taking our little visitor to ZAWA where he can live safely and freely, exactly as nature intended. A small reminder that protecting animals starts with respecting their right to roam.

10/12/2025

At some point in your late twenties you will be offered a job in Botswana. Take it. Do not hesitate. That single decision will alter the entire course of your life.

Saying yes is what brought Africa into my heart. It was the first domino. Botswana led to Malawi, then Nigeria and eventually Zambia where my life truly took shape. It led me to Debra. It led me to marriage, to fatherhood, to the family who now define my world.

One choice. One moment. And everything that matters in my life today began with that step.

The lie we tell ourselves about beating childrenBefore I begin, let me say this clearly. Some people are going to disagr...
10/12/2025

The lie we tell ourselves about beating children

Before I begin, let me say this clearly. Some people are going to disagree with me on this. And that is okay. In fact, that is partly why I write. I believe good, honest disagreement creates growth. So if this piece stirs something in you, whether agreement or resistance, I invite you into the comments. Let us talk. Let us reason. Let us listen to each other. And if you feel this conversation matters, please share it with others and with your groups. The more voices we hear, the better.

In Zambia and across much of Africa, corporal punishment is still widely used in homes and in many schools. It is seen as normal. It is wrapped in culture, tradition, and the belief that this is how children learn discipline, respect, and obedience. In some schools, parents are even asked for permission to beat their own children. Many agree. Some even demand it.

The logic sounds simple. Children need control. Authority must be enforced. Pain teaches lessons.

But here is the hard truth. That logic is deeply flawed. And the damage it causes is far greater than most people are prepared to admit.

Many of us grew up hearing the phrase, “spare the rod and spoil the child.” A saying often linked to strict Christian schooling traditions, including the Christian Brothers. It was repeated so often that it became almost sacred. As if violence had divine backing. As if fear was a holy tool of education.

It is not.

Across the world, most children still live in countries where corporal punishment is legal or only partially restricted. Africa is no exception. While some countries have moved to ban it fully, many still allow physical punishment in the home, in schools, or both. Zambia sits in a grey area where enforcement and cultural practice often override child protection in reality.

So yes, it continues not because it works, but because the law is slow, systems are weak, and culture defends it.

But legal does not mean right. Tradition does not mean moral. And familiarity does not mean effectiveness.

The idea that children must be beaten into discipline did not begin in Africa. It was deeply embedded in European schooling systems during colonial times. British schools used caning as standard practice. Mission schools brought the same methods with them. Over time, it became part of the fabric of African education.

What was imported as control later became defended as culture.

And now we defend what was once imposed.

Let us be honest about what corporal punishment really produces.

It produces fear.
It produces short term obedience.
It produces silence.

But it does not produce moral understanding.
It does not produce empathy.
It does not produce ethical thinking.
It does not produce inner discipline.

What it teaches is this.
Power equals violence.
Authority must be feared.
And when you are bigger, stronger, or in charge, you are allowed to hurt.

Children learn how to comply. They learn how to avoid pain. They learn how to hide mistakes. They learn how to obey outwardly and rebel inwardly.

That is not character. That is survival.

Decades of research across different cultures shows the same pattern. Children who are beaten are more likely to become aggressive, anxious, withdrawn, or violent later in life. They struggle more with self regulation. They struggle with trust. And many carry emotional wounds long into adulthood.

Yet still we hear the same line again and again.

“It never did me any harm.”
“It is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

That belief is comforting. But it is not evidence. And it ignores the silent damage that so many carry without ever naming it.

Corporal punishment creates obedience. Not wisdom.
Compliance. Not conscience.
Silence. Not understanding.

True discipline is not about control. It is about formation.
It is not about fear. It is about growth.
It is not about breaking the will. It is about shaping the soul.

If we want children to understand right from wrong, then we must teach right from wrong.
If we want children to be compassionate, we must model compassion.
If we want children to be honest, we must live honestly.
If we want children to be self disciplined, we must show what self discipline looks like.

You cannot beat ethics into a child.
You must show them.

There is another way. A harder way. A slower way. But a far better one.

Restorative discipline.
Guidance through explanation.
Correction through relationship.
Accountability through responsibility.
Justice shaped by compassion.
Forgiveness that still holds boundaries.

This is how children grow into ethical human beings.
Not because they fear pain.
But because they understand consequence.
Because they feel respected.
Because they are seen.
Because they are taught.
Because they belong.

Children who are formed this way do not just obey when you are watching.
They carry values into the world when you are not.

That is real discipline.

Beating children does not make strong adults.
It often makes fearful ones.
Angry ones.
Broken ones.
Or people who carry violence forward into the next generation.

We cannot keep saying we love our children while defending a system that physically harms them in the name of discipline.

Love does not need a stick.
Authority does not need violence.
Respect cannot be forced.

The choice in front of us

We can keep passing down what was handed to us.
Or we can choose to do better.

We can raise children who obey out of fear.
Or we can raise children who live by conscience.

We can build homes and schools ruled by punishment.
Or we can build homes and schools grounded in justice, compassion, forgiveness, and ethical formation.

One path is easy.
The other is right.

And I know which one I choose.

Our Intercultural and In*******al FamilyRaising children in an intercultural, in*******al and international marriage is ...
09/12/2025

Our Intercultural and In*******al Family

Raising children in an intercultural, in*******al and international marriage is one of the most rewarding and complicated journeys a person can take. Our children do not belong to one world. They belong to many. They carry British, Irish and Zambian identities. They are Third Culture Kids who move easily across cultures that meet, mix and reshape each other inside our home.

Family is one of the clearest places where our worlds collide and blend.

I grew up with a very Western sense of family. My world was the nuclear family. Mum, dad, siblings. That was the circle. Beyond that, everything became distant. I knew my uncles and aunties but anything beyond that was vague and occasionally awkward. Family gatherings were small and rare and once they ended we drifted back into our little unit. If there was a problem, it stayed inside that unit. If you needed comfort or advice, it came from one or two people.

Debra’s world could not be more different. In Zambia, family is expansive and alive. It stretches across homes, generations and entire communities. Auntie does not only mean your mother’s sister. Uncle does not only mean your father’s brother. Cousins are siblings. Friends of the family become real relatives in every meaningful sense. Grandparents, great grandparents and elders occupy a central and respected place. Family is not a box. It is a network.

In that world, a child might seek comfort from an auntie instead of their mother, or a grandfather instead of their father. Parents love deeply but they do not always try to hold every moment or emotion. At first, this was strange for me. My instinct was that children should always come to their parents first. I thought that was what closeness meant. But over time I realised that the Zambian model offers a much wider foundation. A child grows up surrounded by people who guide, correct, support and protect them. If anything happened to Debra or me, our children would not be lost. They would still be held by a village.

Debra is a modern Zambian woman who takes the strengths of both cultures. She is hands on, involved and deeply connected to the day to day lives of our children. But she also honours the extended family structure that shapes so much of Zambian life and identity. Together we have created a space that blends Western openness and communication with the warmth and communal belonging at the heart of African family life.

What I have learned through this intercultural journey is that culture is not fixed. It shifts, grows and interacts with the people who live it. It is easy to focus on the differences, but when you go deeper you see the similarities. Love, protection, respect and connection. Those values are universal. They do not belong to one continent.

Our children are layered in identity. They are British and Zambian. They are Irish and African. They will grow up knowing who they are and who they come from. But more importantly, they will grow up wrapped in love from two families and two worlds that have come together in our home.

For me, that is the true meaning of family. It is love that crosses borders. It is belonging that is not limited by birthplace. It is a story that continues through generations and carries the best of every culture that shapes it.

*******alFamily

09/12/2025

Trying to buy traditional Zambian food while living in Europe was always an adventure. You spend half your time improvising and the other half explaining to confused shop staff why you only want the parts they throw away.

Debra would go straight for the turnip leaves, happily ripping them off while the Europeans walked past because they only wanted the root. Good news for her, nobody complained and she always left with a full bag of “proper” Zambian greens.

Where there is a will, an African woman will always find a way.

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