My feet are too cold that I don’t know the right words to weave that can actually describe the person who through his means I came into existence as a being. A person who by December this year (2020) would have been 70years. He was born in the district of Koromchi, Fika Local Government Area of Yobe State. He grew up as a poor lad who lost his mother during his earliest years, this, in turn, shaped his life completely that he stood upon his success, he pursued it with hard-work and perseverance. He was the first person that enrolled himself to Western education in his entire family when he was only 7. He studied Engineering and was employed as a graduate trainee at Ashaka Cement Company, Gombe State in the year 1977. He rose through different ranks to the position of Sectional Engineer, he voluntarily retired from public service in the year 2003. He said “ I have achieved all I ever wanted”.
In around March 2018, a sudden weakness of upper and lower limbs sets in, he was diagnosed by Dr Nura Alkali and further referred to a hospital in Asyut, Egypt. He went together with my brother Alhassan Yakubu Abare in that same year, after many tests, they prescribed medication for six(6) months for him. He took it but to no avail. The illness persisted for almost a year.
In the early hours of 3rd Ramadan 1441(26th April 2020) at around 10:25 am, I received the shock of my life, the darkest day I pray I shall never experience in my whole life. It’s the time and date that I lost my emotional fortress, my role model, my cheerleader, my one and only dad, the person I always look upon for my advice, the person who Allah (S.W.T) made to be the cause of whatever we are now. A selfless individual who sacrificed his comfort for the happiness of his family. He is indeed a father, a friend and a teacher. Earlier that day, I was called by my elder brother Ahmad Abare whom I have left in the hospital with my younger brother Adamu Abare due to the restriction on the present pandemic disease (Covid-19). I went to the hospital and found him in extreme pain, I recall the looks in his eyes and the statement he told me prior to that day. I greeted him, he answered. We changed the room he was admitted to a single-patient-room, I stayed with him together with my siblings. He passed away after requesting food and saying something silently. He has been reciting the Kalimatush- Shahada and إن لله و إن اليه راجعون…..since the very day he was admitted on 22nd April 2020. He died on my hands whilst my brother Ahmad Abare was looking up to him from the rear. It was the darkest day, the most painful episode I’ve ever experienced. The day I doubt if I can ever forget in my entire life. The day the person who showed me what truth actually is and steadfastness in Deen left this non-everlasting world.
Perhaps, he left, but it would be very hard for us to forget the person who gave us so much to remember, he has lived an amazing life, albeit, a limited one to which we aspire he might have lived long. On a brownie Friday, after I and two of my younger siblings Abdallah and Zakariya Abare recited the complete Mushaf of the Qur’an so as to do Tawassul and pray for his quick recovery, he said “ Allah yasa ranar alqiyama muma a dauramana rawani akanmu saboda haddar ku”. He on several occasions warned us on doing things for people to commend, he hates being praised on things he’s done. He left, but he has set a footprint that will forever be cherished. Those whom his life has touched positively (and otherwise; by Allah, I don’t know a single person whom dad has grudges with) should please join us in praying for him, may Jannatul Firdaus be his final abode. Ameen. JazakumuLlah khairan for all your prayers.
Muhammad. Y. Abare