Death is the most dreaded sword. It separates two friends forever by cutting the life of the one who has reached his appointed time for departure from this abode of mortals called earth. It severs whatever bond of love, affection, intimacy and memorable togetherness they painstakingly built over time.
The one felled by the sword to the great beyond, never to return, while the one left to live is in a permanent lurch, reminiscing over their sweet memories, and regretting his inability to relive them.
Death has cut down Mustapha Muhammad Birnin-Kudu, with whom I built a rare bond of togetherness and intimacy, leaving me, and every other friend, relation, and associate he had in his lifetime to mourn him forever.
The sword of death smote Mustapha on Monday, 17th August, 2015, a date now permanently imprinted in my mind and the mind of every other person with whom he built the same bond of intimacy and affection.
This tribute is to elegise him, drawing a very vivid portrait of whoever didn’t have the opportunity of knowing vintage Mustapha, and narrating how we painstakingly built a memorable bond of sincere friendship, finely garnished with fabulous intimacy and affection.
I believe it is most pertinent for me to begin from one fateful Sunday, August 9, 2015, because laden with importance in my intimacy with the late Mutapha.
On that Sunday, I was at the Specialist Hospital, Gwagwalada mosque long after Asr prayer when the concierge ringtone of my Nokia (Lumia 730) echoed twice. I quickly checked and it was my friend, Mustapha. He had over the years dramatically changed from being elaborate on issues to taking direct shots. The name appeared and the voice was unmistaken. “Ina garunku’’ (I am in your town) sounded from the caller at the other end.
At 6.45 pm later, I was at Sani Zangon Daura Estate, Kado. My friend wasted no time as he emerged from the family bungalow trailed by his 13-year-old daughter, Walida with a saucer boiled eggs in her hands for the rushing visitor. We apologised to each other, giving excuses for the short notices. Within minutes, we were at Uthman bin Affan Mosque popularly known as Banex Mosque. After Magrib prayers, there was a brief announcement that Sheik Abdulrahman Azzamfariyyi could not make it to the Mosque for the resumption of the Sunday lesson of Sharhu Sunnah after Ramadan/Sallah break. We proceeded to Annur Mosque on IBB Way by Ahmadu Bello for Ishai prayers.
That outing was as rigorous as it was during our journey to Daura, Dutse, Birnin-Kudu, Wurno and several other places in the last five years.
Mustapha and I met at the School of General Studies, Bayero University, Kano, in 1983. We all passed out from our respective secondary schools a year earlier. While he went to Federal Government College, Lagos, I attended Rumfa College, Kano. As destiny arranged it, we became course mates and realised we hailed from the same local government area.
As the years went by, in our life both within and outside the university, we developed a very interesting friendship, diametrically opposed to each other on a number of issues. He never hid his disdain for socialism and what university comrades stood for, his elaborate plans for life were religiously pursued and his ambitions were profound. He was as vigorous as a roaring lion, exuding zeal and energy. He knew from the onset what he wanted, and the strategies to achieve those lofty ideas were well mapped out and even excellently executed.
At the university, Mustapha was nicknamed Dan kasuwa (businessman). In spite of his dislike for the comrades, he teamed up with the liberal socialists on campus led by Mamman Nasir, late Special Assistant to both Maryam Sani Abacha and Fati Abubakar (may his soul rest in peace) to emerge as the Sales Director of the Student Union Government in 1986. His business acumen, initiatives and adventurous attitude earned him the new name Dan Kasuwa. He took over the most profitable student business on campus. He was respected for his amiable disposition, eloquence and power of persuasion.
It was a twist of destiny that my good friend failed to remain in the private sector where his full business potentials would have been exploited. He joined The Gidauniya Investment and Securities Limited, Gidauniya Foundation on graduation. The Foundation was owned by the people and government of Kano State for the economic development, wealth creation and employment generation of the state. Mustatpha sharpened his existing business skills.
While working with Gidauniya, he made trips to Lagos for a job he loved but it eluded him. Mustapha wanted to work with the Central Bank of Nigeria. Its headquarters had not yet moved to Abuja. The governor then was the late Alhaji Abdulkadir Ahmed from Jama’are in neighbouring Bauchi State, few kilometers from his hometown. I was a young officer at Allied Bank, Ojoo branch, Ibadan. His stop-overs in my house at Ibadan were as revealing as educating on why he wanted the job, his plans, his goals and his life philosophy.
Fortunately, he made it up without working in CBN as he moved his services to Kano and later Jigawa State Local Government Service Commission as internal auditor. He served the state in various local governments as treasurer and secretary, spanning a period of almost 10 years. He was made the state Director, Local Government Joint Account by the then governor Saminu Turaki, for three years. His rising profile, popularity and perceived wealth made both friends and adversaries green with envy.
Political intrigues, power play and merciless treachery pushed Mustapha out of office. Degrading postings as he put it, followed and the final straw to kick the potential permanent secretary and perhaps head of service out, was a mild stroke that made him powerlessly prostrate. The remaining service years thereon were dedicated to pursuit for health recovery instead of career growth and retirement plans. His businesses were completely consumed by the endless search.
Five days after our spiritual outing to Uthman bin Affan and Annur Mosques both at Wuse 2, Abuja, I was unable to see Mustapha, as I closed from work at 5 pm and proceeded to National Hospital to visit another childhood friend, a fellow Rumfobian, Mansur Musa of Nigeria Security Printing and Minting Company whose wife was operated and recuperating. The gentleman hosted me on 33, Gerrad Avenue, Ikoyi and later 1, Femi Pears off Adeola Odekun, Victoria Island, each time I visited Lagos between 1988 and 1994.
I have, over the years, maintained the routine of visiting my family fortnightly in Kano. On Friday, August 14, 2015, while on my way to Kano, Mustapha called, and I pleaded with him to expect me on Sunday. Unfortunately, I left Kano on Sunday a bit later than usual and couldn’t see him as promised. My plan was to take him to the mosques I attend different lessons on different days as my other friend’s wife was discharged from hospital on Saturday August 15.
Mustapha had battled a debilitating stroke for seven years. He had travelled to Damagaran in Niger, Cairo and Jeddah in search of a cure over a dozen times in the best available hospitals. There was no nook and cranny of the country that he had not traversed to see a reigning mai magani (traditional healer) after hospitalisation at Malam Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital where his wife worked as a doctor. He had staked his life travelling at odd hours, visiting unsafe places, dedicating his time and pumping his resources for one reason. His prayers every moment were for recovery.
Yawale Ismaila, Gwiwa local government cashier (Jigawa State) is time associate of Mustapha’s immediate younger brother – Musa Muhammad. His call to me shortly after Asr prayers on the Monday I was to take Mustapha to Area 11 mosque where Sheik Abdulrazaq Yahya Haipan preaches was to confirm if my friend was DEAD.
A call immediately to Dr. Bilkisu was nerve breaking to me – Inna lillahi wa inna ilahi rajiun. A follow up visit reaffirmed her confirmation amid ceaseless sobbing. His corpse arrived Birnin-Kudu at 2.35 pm on Tuesday, August 18 and at about 5 pm, my friend was laid to rest, insha Allah.
My condolences go to Hajia Salamatu Ayya, the deceased mother, the two wives he left behind and his six children and the entire members of the late Alhaji Muhahmmadu Musa Kwambo family. As Muslims, they should be consoled with the Qur’anic verse that says, ‘’every soul shall test death.”
I am relieved by the tumultuous turnout witnessed at the funeral. I need to state the camaraderie exhibited by FGC Lagos old boys association that sent delegation to Birnin-Kudu on August 21. For Ambassador Ja’afar Koguna who stood by his son-in law in thin and thick and in life and death, I say miyetti, Allah hakkumo Aljannah.
Mustapha, born on August 27, 1965, attended Birnin Kudu Central Primary School (1970-1977). He went to Federal Government College, Lagos between 1977 to1982. He was a triple graduate of Bayero Univesity, Kano where he obtained Bachelor of Science, Economics (1987), Post Graduate Diploma in Management (2000) and master’s in Business Administration (2003).
May Allah forgive his shortcomings while here on earth and grant him Aljannatil firdaus in his new and permanent abode. Amin.
Nadudu-Wurno hails from Wurno, Birnin-Kudu local government area of Jigawa State.
Join Daily Trust WhatsApp Community For Quick Access To News and Happenings Around You.
