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| Image Courtesy: Family Archives |
In the last seven years, I have lost numerous colleagues, friends and relatives, to the point where I swore off writing any more tributes, partly due to the emotional and mental toll the losses had taken on me, but mostly because I had become so weary of referring to friends and loved ones in the past tense. However, the passing of my grandmother and family matriarch in the late hours of Friday 16th August has placed me in a position where it would be disrespectful and unacceptable to keep to my oath. Hajiya lived a full and very fulfilling life that had a huge impact on everyone who knew her. I owe it to her to write a tribute in her honour, for she falls within the special category of people whose memory should be shared and kept alive.
To know Hajiya is to love her. It was impossible not to. She had a warm glowing personality that made one feel protected and safe by being in her presence. Her life was a tapestry woven with threads of love, resilience, and wisdom, a masterpiece that still inspires and guides. She was more than just a grandmother; she was a confidante, a mentor, and a steadfast pillar in our family. Her home was a sanctuary, a place where laughter, warmth and unconditional love reigned supreme. I can still feel the comforting sound of her gentle laughter, and the wisdom in her eyes.
One of my earliest and most prominent memories of Hajiya is from my childhood when my cousins and I spent a lot of summer vacations in Sokoto. Of the numerous things, I looked forward to during the vacation, one of my favourites was watching Hajiya oversee breakfast distribution to the multitude of grandchildren and other inhabitants of the household. Every morning, she would be seated on a mat in her room surrounded by about a dozen loaves of bread and massive flasks of tea. With near military precision, Hajiya would distribute breakfast to every single person in the house. I don’t recall a time when she omitted or forgot about anyone in the distribution process. Years later, when I read Simon Sinek’s book “Leaders Eat Last”, I realized that Hajiya embodied this principle because she made sure everyone was served breakfast before she had hers. She always had a few extra loaves and flasks of tea available in case anyone who hadn’t been factored into breakfast were to arrive during the night or show up in the morning unannounced.
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| Image Courtesy: Family Archives |
I remember countless evenings spent listening to tales of her childhood. Her stories were not mere narratives; they were life lessons wrapped in captivating anecdotes. Through her words, we learned about the importance of family and the power of faith. She instilled in us a deep appreciation for our heritage and the values that have shaped generations.
Hajiya had an amazing sense of humour. She could tell jokes on almost every topic, especially politics. More than the jokes, it was her cheerful and hearty laughter that made me laugh even more. She had an amazing ability to recall major political events with clarity and detail.
One of her favourite pastimes was listening to the various airings of BBC Hausa news and other current affairs programs on the radio. If you asked her to give you a brief highlight of the day’s news, she would do so without missing a beat.
Hajiya’s favourite movies were Bollywood movies, which she had an interesting way of watching. After dinner, we would all take up various spots in her room ready to watch the movie of the day on an old VHS cassette player. Of course, we all couldn’t speak the language, and movies at that time didn’t come with subtitles, so you had to make up your own interpretation as the movie went along. While we watched, Hajiya would provide a running commentary/translation about what was happening and what was being said. Though we had no way of confirming it, we always regarded her commentary as the most accurate narrative.
Beyond her nurturing spirit, Hajiya had a sharp mind and a thirst for knowledge that never waned. She was an avid reader, and her conversations were often stimulating and thought-provoking. As kids, she would read Magana Jari Ce, Iliya dan Mai Qarfi and Ruwan Bagaja to us to keep us entertained and impart the lessons found therein. She loved her books and she guarded them jealously. On the rare occasion that she lent you any books, you couldn't take them anywhere with you. You had to read them in the house and return them immediately afterwards. I always admired her curiosity and her ability to engage in deep discussions about a wide range of topics.
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| Image Courtesy: Family Archives |
Hajiya was a mother to all. If any of her kids or grandkids brought friends home, you automatically became her child or grandchild. Numerous individuals have literally become family to this day because of Hajiya’s openness and unconditional acceptance.
Hajiya possessed an uncanny ability to make everyone feel special. Her empathy was boundless, and her heart, was a vast ocean of compassion. She had a knack for finding the silver lining in every cloud, and her optimism was contagious. Even in the face of adversity, she exuded strength and grace, teaching us all the true meaning of resilience.
Sometime in the 90s, while enrolled at the Federal Government College in Sokoto, I became a bit of a truant and would occasionally escape from boarding school. In one of the most balanced and consistent acts of tough love I have ever experienced, Hajiya would feed me, put me to bed and have me returned to school the next day. This went on for virtually the whole term till I realized her commitment to making sure I attended school surpassed my capacity for escaping it. To this day, I am grateful for her obstinacy.
Though the pain of her absence will linger for years to come, we find solace in the knowledge that she is at peace. We cherish the memories we shared, and we are grateful for the profound impact she had on our lives. Hajiya was not just a woman; she was a force of nature, a beacon of love that will continue to illuminate our path. We will forever be grateful for the privilege of calling her our grandmother. Rest in peace dear one. Your love lives on in the hearts of many.
Hajiya is survived by many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
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