From the past, echoes of Baba

I was always made to understand time heal all wounds, that all grief become history but to us each passing day these past five years, comes with pain, of waking up knowing that we will never see him again or hear his laughter. The vacuum created by his death remains. We always pray to Almighty Allah to give us the strength to continue to carry on. And Alhamdu lillah, we have been able to do so.

Baba, with every disappointment, comes a blessing. When Allah tested us by taking you away, He then blessed us with strength, patience and perseverance. Back then, I know we had a family particularly when you drummed the importance of family, unity, patience and togetherness into us. But today, as I have grown older and wiser, I came to understand, the meaning of the words you spoke to me just four days before you passed on, when you said: “Ummie, I want you to be strong. Your mother needs you, your siblings need you. I want you all to know I love you beyond life itself. I want you to learn to be patient, to repay good with good, evil with good.

Well, Baba, we have all grown up and are doing wonderfully well. Were it not yesterday, we got out of diapers and pull-ups? But here we are today, two in the university, two in secondary and two in elementary school. All praise be to Allah for His mercies on us.

Your ‘King’ Abdallah turned five in January and I have never seen a child his age as opinionated as he is. He doesn’t allow anyone to push him around and he knows how to defend himself very well. He is exceptionally intelligent and has been top of his class since he started school.

Husna is a little tigress who will be 7 in October. She loves making up and looking good, she doesn’t like food but is only interested in sweets, ice cream and meat. She always tries to stay up late waiting for a midnight snack. She is a chatterbox who sings all the time. In her last exam, she scored 13 A’s.

Nana Aisha doesn’t talk much. She is still the same cute pretty girl you left behind. She turned 12 in January this year and is in Junior High Two. Nana has maintained that stupendous achievement of hers since she started school, carting away 13 prizes.

Now, Baba, this you must hear: Abba is a replica of you in all his mannerisms. In fact when people see him, they say Mamman Nassir still lives. He is just 16 but looks and behaves like a 20-year-old. He is in Senior High School and received an award for having distinctions in 5 subjects. He is really proving you right for when Mama used to complain that he does not like taking his studies seriously, you always say: “Relax, Maryam, give Mallam time, he will pick up”. Indeed he has picked up. He seems to be following our footsteps of leadership. We are all proud of him.

Hauwa has changed, too. You used to say: “Maryam, you must do something or she will grow up to become lazy”.  ‘Turen Baba’ is today a very serious medical student who does things without been told to do so. She cooks, does house chores. She relates with people, stoic and in control as ever. She still never complains like we do. Mama says “of all my kids, Hauwa is the most peaceful’’. The two of us have grown closer, we no longer fight. I know, I was the instigator of most of our fights back then and today, I have come to realize that you don’t right wrongs by coercion, you don’t tell people what to do but guide them. I have immense respect for her.

As for me, I turned 19 this April and I will be finishing my 2nd year of medical school this May. You have always told us you want all of us girls to read Medicine. Well, Baba, we are on our way. Saying med school is challenging is an understatement. Medicine is not only about how smart or intelligent a person is, it is much more than that. It takes interest, determination, hard work and perseverance for one not to drop out. I just completed one of the most difficult courses of medical school, Anatomy. And my result was stupendous! I believe intelligence isn’t a privilege, but a gift and should be used for the good of mankind. I shall continue to strive and make it through the remaining years, Insha Allah. And you know what, Baba? I shall, God-willing be called Dr. Mamman Nassir at the age of 23.  How I wish you were around.

I remember when I was a little girl, all Mama needed to do to make me cry was to tease: “Your father is an old man with grey hair,” or “Your father is an ugly man” and I would burst into tears which only you could stop. I miss her teases and wonder what dimension she would have taken if you were still here.  Hauwa and Abba no longer tease me.

Baba!  You were my friend, my confidant and even though you are no longer here, I still consider you my best friend. Mama, my mum, Maryam Mamman Nassir is a woman not like any other. She is a rare, precious gem. All we can do is keep thanking Allah for her. We love her so much that it scares us whenever she is ill. Baba and Mama, you are parents like no other and we all shall make you proud, Insha Allah.

We miss those wonderful Friday night dinners at The Oriental in Transcorp Hilton. Though we still go out for dinners, picnics and outings with Mama, but they are not the same. We always end up recalling our times with you and become emotional. Ushering in the New Year then seemed special, because of those midnight tea parties that we used to have with Mama insisting we dress up prim and proper, that everything be done properly and meticulously (that’s Mama’s way) with tomato, olives and cucumber sandwiches, tea cups and saucers, no mugs. Our picnics at the farm too, were something else. I used to tell Mama, ‘’I don’t want to go. Baba gets busy and I only get to baby-sit and separate fights while everyone else gets to have fun’’.

Baba you gave where others took, you chased away the dark clouds to ensure a better tomorrow for us. You were so philosophical all through your ailment. You kept on dreaming and making plans for the future, like the day you took Mama to Jabi Lake and said to her: “Maryam, when I come back from the hospital and get better, I plan to buy a big plot of land here and build you a house. It will be bigger and more beautiful than the one we have now.’’ We always cry when we remember all these.

My parents were together for about 20 years. It was amazing how much they loved and respected each other till the end. I wish and pray my sisters and I would get husbands that would love us, cherish us, respect us and honour us like my father did my mother. Mamman Nassir, you were a voice of kindness that gently passed through to make us search for a purpose in the many things we do. Our life with you was something extraordinary that we shall hold dear. And someday, we shall recount and tell our children what a great man their grandfather Mamman Nassir was.

Mamman Nassir wrote in from University of Debrecen Medical School, Hungary