Memories of Baffa’s final moments: A tribute
A lot of questions were raised as to the cause, but it was successfully managed with drugs and Baffa bounced back to his active life. Not until recently, when again, the signs of ill-health began to be apparent. I personally sensed problems when for the first time, in the whole of my over 30 years […]
A lot of questions were raised as to the cause, but it was successfully managed with drugs and Baffa bounced back to his active life. Not until recently, when again, the signs of ill-health began to be apparent. I personally sensed problems when for the first time, in the whole of my over 30 years with him, I learnt that he did not attend the Eid-el Kabir prayer, despite being in town. As it is my practice, ever since I got married and left Baffa’s house, I go straight from Eid prayer to pay him and Hajiya Sallah homage, before I return home. On getting there, I saw Baffa in his morning Jallabiya, despite being Sallah day. I greeted him and inquired, he responded: “Sagir, I’m feeling dizzy, I’m afraid to collapse at the Eid ground.” But he still insisted that he is fine.
After the usual banter, he brought some drinks and snacks, which he handed over to his namesake, the little Baffa who accompanied me. I enjoyed the Sallah food with my siblings and Baffa resigned to his bedroom for that moment. I later learnt that he drove his car in the evening and visited at Tudun Wada Area, where he even ate fried entrails.
A day after, on November 7, 2011, at about 6:00am, Abubakar, my younger brother called to tell me that Baffa was critically ill, so I should rush, I immediately inquired if they have informed Dr. Mannir, which he said they are about to. I insisted they do that immediately.
On reaching home, I met Baffa holding unto the entrance/exit of his sitting room, in a terrible state I never saw him before. He looked ill, with tears rolling down his cheeks, and insisting that he will not go to the hospital, querying why he should leave his house, since they (my brothers, sisters and mothers) know that they will not return him home. As I arrived, the scene was as emotional as everyone was crying. I pleaded with, and finally convinced him to agree and go to the hospital. He asked me, “Sagir, do you promise to return me home”? And I replied, “Yes, Baffa”. He then started moving, and we drove him to the Malam Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital. On our way to the hospital, we saw Dr. Mannir heading to Baffa’s house, and we gestured him to follow us to the hospital, which he did.
Upon our arrival at the Emergency Ward, after series of tests, x-rays and examinations, it was revealed to us that, Baffa must be admitted as he had a renal failure. When Baffa was admitted, and was taken to the ward, he looked at me again and repeated. “Sagir, you promise to return me home?” I replied, “Yes, Baffa Insha Allah.” Alas, Allah has ordained it I cannot fulfill that promise to Baffa.
That evening, after series of side talks between the doctors and our brother, Dr. Mannir, he then revealed to us that Baffa must undergo three sessions of dialysis in order to salvage his kidneys. We all received that news with mixed feelings. That night, Baffa went through his first session and on our return next morning, we were all elated as we met him in a better shape. On Thursday November 10, Baffa was to undergo another session of dialysis, it began well, after about an hour, he started behaving strangely, removing the connection from his arm, at a point it became apparent, the session must be stopped, as he became so agitated. He was wheeled back to his room, and on getting there, he started apologizing to us about his conduct and reminding us that anything we see happening in this world, was ordained by Allah.
Dr. Mannir lectured him on the need to have that dialysis session. Wallahi, that night I could not sleep on reaching home, I was crying. My wife was so worried and querying whether I received a call from the hospital. My mind was full of thoughts of how strong, healthy and agile Baffa used to be, comparing it with how he was looking that evening. More so, as the next day coincided with his birthday, which would have been a very special day for him considering the uniqueness of that day, 11/11/2011. However, I kept praying for him to recover quickly.
On Monday, November 14, we all visited Baffa as usual, we had series of conversations as usual and when it was about 6 pm, he insisted that we should all leave, jokingly saying, why should you always allow yourselves to be chased away (by the hospital’s security when it is 6pm) before you leave. That day, we all left before 6pm, and it was the day Baffa was booked for the third and last session of dialysis. However, at about 4:08am, I received a call I will never forget, as it really changed my life. It was Mubarak, my younger brother and he said, “We need to be in the hospital now as Baffa is on oxygen.” I jumped from my bed, sneaked out, without letting my wife and children know what was going on. I met Baffa lying on his bed, with Mama (my stepmother), Dr. Mannir, Bashir and Mubarak (my brothers) by the bed side, with tears rolling down their cheeks. On seeing the situation, I leaned towards his ear and started reciting the “Kalimatul Shahada.” Everyone in the room joined me.
One amazing thing was, Baffa was still conscious, comforting us to accept the situation that will befall us, mentioning our names, asking for our forgiveness as he said he had forgiven all of us. Everyone was crying, including the brave ones who were controlling their emotions.
Baffa was pronounced dead at about 7:30am. And that was the end. I still could not believe my eyes, but he was lying motionless. My mother, Hajiya came in just some minutes before Baffa died and the expression I saw on her face traumatised me. Nana and Jamila, my sisters and their husbands, came just some minutes after Baffa was pronounced dead. With his death, we have lost fatherly guidance and emotional care. However, we find solace in Allah’s saying that: “Every soul shall taste death”. The peace with which you passed on, and the testimonial we hear from your friends, relations, superiors, subordinates and associates about your character, especially, your openness and uprightness, and finally, your sense of time (as you often say) give us consolation that we came from the right father.
My father, Alhaji Sulaiman Mohammed Gezawa, born on November 11, 1947, died on November 15, 2011 (just 4 days after his birthday), is survived by two wives and 16 children. May aljannatul firdaus be his final abode.
Sagir wrote in from No. 60, Maiduguri Road, Kano.