Dear Dad, It is exactly 11 years today in the Gregorian calendar since you departed from this world. I do not know the utility of communicating to you through this medium, but I have the urge to say something to you and about you. You were a wonderful father who taught us in principle that one does not have to beat his kids to bring them up well cultured. You so much loved all of your kids that never for once I could recall seeing you beating anyone of us. You preached to us to be courageous and honest even if it is the only thing we should have on this earth. You imbibed in us the sense of responsibility and encouraged us to live by it even if everybody around us is irresponsible. You once told me that social justice is a right not a privilege and I had seen you going from villages to towns fighting for the rights of the weak and oppressed. You were never a darling of the rural aristocrats and greedy judges/khadis, and the reason was because you went extra mile in fighting their atrocities against common man. I want to see myself doing that before I finally join you and others in the heaven. Dad, you left me in the middle of my journey in the medical school, but today I have since grown up and obtained my degree, rising in my career, and married with two lovely kids. I used that little but valuable money you left for me to pay my last registration fee in the university. This underscored the fact that you played your role of educating me to the latter, even when you were not apparently in the position to do so. I recall with nostalgia when I told you about the instruction I got from school authorities when I was doing A Level exam in CAS Kano in 1999, that all of us must pay for the exam fees within two weeks or risk not sitting for the exam that year. I knew you did not have the money then because you were in your 4th year in sick bed, but you told me not worry. I did not want to believe you then because I knew how hard it was to raise such amount in a short period, until you sent for me some days later and handed over the money to me intact. It then dawned on me that you sold your only remaining piece of farm land at a give away price just to fulfill my dream! When I tell this story people assume you also had western education, but you never had any western education. You were just playing your role as a responsible father whose kid wanted something and he was assisting him to get it. My mother once told me about the dream she has about all of us which she shared with you, and in your characteristic habit of honesty and frankness you smiled at her and told her that you would be long gone when all she dreamed about would happen. One good thing I want to tell you is that all my brothers and sisters, the 21 of us you left behind in this world only one person is now deceased. He was buried next to you and I pray that he finds comfort in your company. I know it would gladden your heart to know that Yakubu Musa has become very successful in his career and his name is ringing bell across Nigeria. He has continued to shoulder many roles in your absence gallantly with amazing grace and decorum. Kabiru Musangedu, that benign child who nursed you for most of the 8 years you spent in the bed battling with stroke, whom you left behind when he had just completed secondary school education; is now an economist with Masters degree in Banking and Finance. He is even married with a daughter now. Surprisingly, Mukhtar Musa, that clever boy with athletic skills is now a brave army officer in the Nigerian Army Artillery Corps at the rank of a Lieutenant. He has a son, also. Yazid Musa who was notorious for clinging on to your car keys is now an enterprising man doing very well in his business. May be he is on the path of reviving the Northern Indigenous Company you co-founded with your best friend late Alh. Shuaibu Rabo Ringim. Hadiza Sani who was far away with her maternal uncle when you left us has been brought up very well and now she has a degree in architecture and pursuing a Masters in Facility Management. She is also married with a son. The remaining two very little kids you left behind, Sani Musa Idris and AbdulJabbar Musa, are all in the university- one studying engineering and the other chemistry. Even your grandson Najib Shuaibu Gagarawa is now an accountant and has a kid. You can see how your family has turn out to be so blessed. Be rest assured that all of us (20 alive) are doing very well and there are many generations now from your genealogy spreading the message of hope and inspiration you stir in the people. I have written this letter to you with my eyes heavy and tears flowing on my cheeks. I search everywhere for you to do one thing to please you, to say thank you for all you have done to change my life positively but I cannot see you. I am having heartache that I cannot embrace you and tell you that I love you, I appreciate you. That I cannot rewind the hand of the clock to share once more those beautiful moments with you is the greatest torture I am going through. Yes, I cried. I am crying! I do not know whether I have lived up to the standard you set for me, but I promise to strive hard to do just that. The society we are now is not the same with the one you lived in. So many things have changed and are fast changing. May Almighty Allah grant you Aljannatul-Firdausi, ameeen! Massalam, Ibrahim Musa
Posted on: Sun, 28 Sep 2014 18:04:25 +0000
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