Abdulyakeen Badmos: Just like yesterday

It is exactly one year that you left us, some us are yet to really believe you are gone forever and for good. Alhaji Abdulyakeen Idris Badmos, though a father to a few biologically, he was a father to many who he came across in his sojourn in life. He understood the need for an […]

It is exactly one year that you left us, some us are yet to really believe you are gone forever and for good. Alhaji Abdulyakeen Idris Badmos, though a father to a few biologically, he was a father to many who he came across in his sojourn in life. He understood the need for an individual to be intellectually upright; he valued education even more than some professors, though he was not opportune to go beyond the primary level himself. This could be part of the reason he saw educating his children a mission that should be accomplished and he did accomplish his mission. My rare gem would always refer to his educated children as his own latest model of any car any time he saw one that caught his fancy. Apart from educating us, he prepared us mentally for the challenges of life, the full import of the song he always sang into our ears just downed on me after his demise. My dad would always encourage us to be focused in school so that we could come out in flying colours and be among those who would be reckoned with in life, his words “I have not got gigantic buildings (though he left a few behind) that can go round all of you, which means there is no legacy for you, the best I know I can bequeath to you is  education(western and Islamic) and I know with the help of Allah, even if I am no more, you all will be able to fend for yourselves.”

Imam Abdulyakeen was an epitome of fatherhood, whose understanding of the injunctions of Islam and the fear of Allah made him love the people around him and his children. As I write about him, scenes are unfolding in my memory. At a time when one of my younger siblings in his teens was down with a chronic malaria fever, my father could not but feel the pains of his boy. Saheed, as he is called, has always been a strong and active individual who is always venturing into skilful and challenging things. So, when he fell in a rest room in the house because he was very weak and could not hold himself uprightly, my dad wept quietly for his dear son. He truly felt the pains of his son.

An episode did endear my father to me when at the age of twenty-five I had to write another “UME” in Kano. Having grew up in the north central (Ilorin) with my maternal uncle, I was not really conversant with Kano road network. So, a day prior to my exam, I asked him for the description of my exam centre but contrary to my expectation, he obliged to take me to the centre. This did not surprise me; after all any responsible father could do that. When we got to the exam centre at Dakata Kawaji, I bid him bye but he insisted on locating my exam class with me and so; father and daughter, side by side we located my class together. At the entrance of the class, I bid him bye and went inside to look for my seat. This however took some time before I finally settled down. After settling down, l raised my hand in supplication to Allah only to notice that my dad was still standing outside the window to wish me luck and be sure I had found my seat. He did leave when he was sure I was fine. His behaviour sort of touched me because I did not know he would still treat me like a little baby at that age when most of my mates had had three children in the least.

Unfortunately though, my dad did not live long to enjoy the fruit of his labour. The little he enjoyed was in pains, agony and illness that later claim his life. Each time my mind goes out to him, I always wish Allah had spared him a little longer so that his children could spoil him a bit and who knows, that could serve as a lesson to parents, especially fathers who think making babies alone is their duty while training them is an exclusive duty of their mothers

My dad prepared well for his death but we did not believe he would leave us that soon. Six months to his departure, he bought some yards of white clothes that he wanted to be  buried with and kept singing it to his beloved wife and darling children where he would like to be buried , who and who should prepare his corpse for its final abode and supplicate at his grave side. My dad lived a just and truthful life and this reflected even in his relationship with Allah and the practise of the Islamic injunctions. Anytime he led prayer in the mosque, people always complained of spending much time, we always wanted a fast one and his attitude during sermons on Fridays earned him the nickname “Malam mai kuka” among the Hausas which means an imam that cries. Yes he was Mai Kuka indeed, he always cried on the “Mimbar” when giving sermons on Fridays at the Yoruba central mosque, Church road, Sabon Gari in Kano. As a concerned and curious child, I once asked him why he always cried and his answer sent shivers down my spine. he said he cried anytime he was giving sermon about the beautiful house Allah has prepared for his faithful devoted servants (Aljannah) that would he have Allah’s mercies to be spared his wrath and be accepted into the house. He said he always aspired to do more good so Allah could take him closer to him.

Daddy earned the love of his children and not the opposite like most fathers that on his sick bed we all tried to outdo one another in caring for our beloved father. All his children just wanted to give back; even if it was a little of what he had given to us for nothing we really do can commensurate parental efforts on their children. The few humiliations he suffered in life were in the process of protecting his children. His eyes were swollen and reddish when he was tear-gassed and manhandled by some security operatives during one of the numerous uproars in Kano. Though our mother offered to go and look for Saheed; one of us writing WAEC then, our dad preferred he went as the man. He readily, willingly and happily tread the path some men never thought is for them in a bid to ensure that all his children are good.

The memories of the time you spent with us will always remain fresh with us. Your darling wife is terribly missing your presence and your children feel alone in the world without your fatherly counsel, support, guidance and most of all prayers, but what can we do?   I pray you find favour with Allah to overlook whatever mistakes you made as a mortal and bless you with the best treatment that can be enjoyed to make up for the  things his fears did not make you go near.

Shakirah wrote in from   Sabon Dutse, Dutse Alhaji, Abuja [email protected]