Atika, our Atika

The death of Atika Balal  on Thursday,  May 29, 2014 has certainly caught us unawares,  even though she was on admission in the hospital for a few days.Atika was  like a  daughter to me or a favourite niece. From the time she came to Daily Trust in 2006 and was brought to me as a […]

The death of Atika Balal  on Thursday,  May 29, 2014 has certainly caught us unawares,  even though she was on admission in the hospital for a few days.
Atika was  like a  daughter to me or a favourite niece. From the time she came to Daily Trust in 2006 and was brought to me as a reporter for the Home Front, our ‘spirits’ clicked , for want of a better word.
She was such a lovely and enchanting girl that  day she came and  some of the men in the Line Editors’ office took up to her. Those that couldn’t pronounce her name kept asking me, so I told them to pronounce Atiku, but remove the ‘u’ and put ‘a’. But if you pronounce it that way, it sounds funny, may be the way a white man may pronounce it.
I used to call her with that pronunciation fondly and she would laugh, and say, “Aunty you are still pronouncing my name that way.”
So over the years, we got closer, in fact one man used to say, “Atika your daughter.”
Atika was a very good writer and a dedicated staff.  She couldn’t understand those that neglect their work. One day she said to me, “ How would you feel in your conscience that you collect salary, but refuse to do your work?”
Atika was always quick to say her prayers and since her death one thing that she said kept coming to my mind.
She said she never wanted to be in a situation where she would deliberately refuse to say her prayers.
Her relationship with other staff was cordial and she minded her own business.
But one thing for sure, she liked teasing people and would make you laugh.
She recognised my footsteps without seeing me. If she was in the newsroom and sitting beside Stella  Iyaji  near the door, as soon as I came in she would not look at me but say, “Aunty.”
“How did you know it was me?” I would ask her.
“I know, I recognise your footsteps,” she would say and we would laugh.
In terms of anything I found difficult to do with a  phone, I would call her and she would show me how to do it.
In October I started suffering from respiratory problems and after two X-rays and other tests, the doctor gave me inhaler to see if it would help, it was to Atika that I turned to. I asked her to show me how to use the inhaler since she was asthmatic and used inhaler and she did.
For years I made up my mind to attend her wedding whenever it comes up, so when the marriage came up in November last year, I was all ready to attend. But before the wedding, I asked her what  she  wanted  me to buy for her.
“Aunty, whatever you give me I will appreciate it,” she replied.
So I went to Zaria for the wedding on Friday and spent one day. She was taken to her husband’s house on Saturday in Katsina.
As I started my leave I travelled to Katsina on Sunday to spend two days, but something came up that I had to be in Kano on Monday.  But before I left for Kano I went to Atika’s house, not knowing that it was the last time we would meet.
To attest to her lovely and endearing nature, even though she was no longer in Abuja office, among those that were close to her, like Stella Iyaji, Adie  Vanessa Offiong and myself, you would  hear remarks such as, “How is Atika?”  “Have you spoken to Atika recently?”
It was like we couldn’t let her go.
We spoke few days before she was admitted to the hospital. Whenever I called it was her niece Ummi that picked and said she was sleeping.
I was thinking of calling her on Friday morning, but it was not to be. I was about to sleep around 9.45. p.m. when  one of our colleagues Yusha’u A. Ibrahim called and told me that Atika had died. And I settled in for a very long and sleepless night.
In the morning when I called a colleague and said, “I want to tell you about Atika’s death.”
“Which Atika?” she asked loudly.
“Our Atika,” I replied. This is the only way I could describe her.
May her soul rest in perfect peace and may Aljannah Firdausi be her resting place.