Hajara ‘Baby’ Ahmadu: For you, time never stops

James O’Barr wrote, “If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them.” And to tell you the truth, ‘Baby,’ it seems like it was just yesterday the unexpected news of your transition was broken to us and I still have this unexplained […]

James O’Barr wrote, “If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them.” And to tell you the truth, ‘Baby,’ it seems like it was just yesterday the unexpected news of your transition was broken to us and I still have this unexplained feeling that you are coming back to us.

Yes, the seconds have turned to minutes, days to weeks, weeks to months and now 356 days have gone-by, I still long for your call or you waltzing through the door as you alone know how to do.

I have sorely missed you, ‘Baby’. Several times, I have picked up my phone and dialed your number to discuss some disturbing family matters with you, only to come to the sad reality that you have crossed the Rubicon.

How can I not remember that barely 48 hours after you left our home with the promise to come back and complete some investigations you started, I will receive one of the saddest and most confounding news?

You were one of a kind, Hajara. You were always giving even when it was to your discomfort. That was how selfless you were. It was only your sacrificial attitude that could explain why you had to leave Abuja on that fateful day to attend a naming ceremony in Kaduna. We had asked you to rest because you had worked all through the day to make sure everyone in the house was satisfied; even neighbours who met you for the first time were full of praises on your humility and care. But you had smiled through it, telling us it was important you attend the naming. Alas, how were we to know it was a final goodbye?

Since you took the wings of Angels to the world beyond, I have not been the same, hoping with each passing day that the pain will go away someday.

Only recently, your nephew, Usman, asked me if I knew where people who are dead go to. I told him they are up there in the bosom of God watching over us from heaven.

I have seen you a number of times in my dreams still wanting to make those around you happy. I have fond memories of you, and I know they will not go away anytime in the near future.

Each time I reminiscence on your sacrificial life, I remember with nostalgia the first time I met you in 1993. You never knew me or my mission to your family home but you were eager to give me what I asked for. Right from that day, you were engraved in my heart.

I never knew I was going to be married to your brother some day and you never gave me any reason to doubt your loyalty and support as demonstrated in all your actions towards the children and I.

Do you know, ‘baby’, things have happened since your eternal sleep. Your sister, Fatima, has a beautiful baby whom she named after you, Hajara. I was so elated by the news because something strange happened when I was taking Musty and Aisha to school that morning before the naming. Your thought overwhelmed me and I called out your name and just exclaimed ‘Baby, why did you have to go?’ 

About two hours later, I received a call from Fatima informing me of her family’s decision to name the little angel Hajara. I was overwhelmed as tears of joy streamed down my face. I could not help but pray that God in His infinite mercies should imbue your namesake with your traits.

Another good news, Musty got married and Yusuf is planning his wedding. Just know that we have missed your mother hen role in our lives but we can never question God.

In our hurt, we remain grateful to the Almighty for having blessed our lives by giving you to us, and we are consoled because His ways are not our ways and He makes all things beautiful in His time.

Continue to rest in the bosom of God, Dear Baby!

Mrs Ahmadu sent in this piece from Abuja