Not every family story ends with custody. Some stories only begin after it.
In a crowded public space, under constant surveillance, a small child is handed over to his father’s arms the way luggage is handed over at a station. Three hours—that’s the time he’s given to experience what he hasn’t had in months: to see, to laugh, to touch a once-familiar face… and then to walk away as if none of it ever happened.
Visitation, as outlined by law, is meant to be a right of the child. But sometimes, it is not practiced as a right—it becomes a silent battlefield, wrapped in procedure and shadowed by resentment. When the mother—driven by anger, bitterness, or even the illusion of protection—takes control of the timing, the tone, and even the end of the visit, the child’s moments are no longer his. The legal right becomes a conditional allowance… and love, rationed time.
The Father Is Not the Enemy
In many family disputes, the father is not a combatant. He is not asking for custody, nor seeking to relocate or strip rights. He simply wishes to be present—to be seen. Yet even that modest request can be met with walls, especially when enforcement of the law rests in the hands of those still bleeding from the past.
When some mothers exercise visitation rights as a tool of quiet control or subtle punishment, it is not only the father who suffers. The child, too, is caught in the crossfire. Meetings are confined to joyless venues, canceled for trivial reasons, watched through a lens of suspicion. The simple act of hugging a parent becomes a supervised privilege rather than a natural right.
The Psychological Toll on Children
According to child psychology, the first three years of a child’s life are the most critical for forming secure emotional bonds. Forced detachment or restricted interaction during this stage can have long-term consequences—not just for the child’s emotional balance, but for their ability to relate to others, trust, and regulate feelings.
Research by the American Psychological Association (APA) shows that children who are denied regular, natural interaction with one parent tend to show higher levels of anxiety, social withdrawal, and emotional underdevelopment. Visitation should not be a rare seasonal event; it should be a living, evolving relationship. Anything less becomes a sterile physical presence, void of memory, meaning, or connection.
A Child’s Best Interest Cannot Be One-Sided
The so-called “best interest of the child” cannot be reduced to exclusion, over-caution, or punitive logic. It must be measured by the child’s sense of safety, emotional balance, and belonging to both parents—even in the context of separation. A father is not a stranger to be screened, nor an opponent to be minimized. He is half the story, half the blood, and half the language this child will one day use to describe the world.
The Law Is Not at Fault—Its Application Can Be
Most family laws—including the UAE’s Federal Personal Status Law—clearly safeguard a child’s right to visitation, overnight stays, and progressive co-parenting arrangements, as long as the conditions are appropriate. The issue lies not in the text, but in the abuse of discretion—when the legal right is twisted into a personal weapon, and the child becomes the casualty of a quiet war.
We Don’t Need New Laws. We Need Open Hearts.
This article is not a call for legislative reform, nor a challenge to a mother’s authority.
It is a heartfelt appeal to rethink how visitation is enforced. Children deserve to build a natural, loving relationship with their fathers—free from suspicion, supervision, or fear. No father should have to visit his child like a guest. No child should have to meet his parent in a guarded hall under someone else’s gaze.
What we need is not new jurisprudence. We need compassion in execution… and fairness in detail.
Because some children aren’t missing a father.
They’re just missing the chance to know him.
