‘We have known you; may you know us’

My father is a man who uses language to its full potential. An example of this is the moment when he saw my son for the first time. As he held him, he whispered a prayer to him, ‘we have known you, may you know us.’ I only came to understand the meaning years later. […]

My father is a man who uses language to its full potential. An example of this is the moment when he saw my son for the first time. As he held him, he whispered a prayer to him, ‘we have known you, may you know us.’ I only came to understand the meaning years later. These must have been the same words he whispered to me at my birth, when he held me for the first time.

When I look at the photograph of him holding me proudly on my eight-day naming ceremony, as he, mama, and my brother, Alimi, sat to pose for a photo, I cannot recall the feeling I must have felt as he held me in his arms. That picture is the earliest photo of me. I am grateful my parents saved and kept it in good condition.

Baba is big on holiday trips. I recall travelling with him by road from Lagos to Ghana, stopping along the way to enjoy the holiday in Cotonou and Lome. The trip was very picturesque. We drove along the coast through coconut grooves with the beach and the Atlantic Ocean to our left most of the way. By nightfall, we only had the moon light and the sound of the waves landing on the shores to guide us. 

There are so many stories to tell, so I have to carefully selected the stories that were most impactful to demonstrate some of his qualities. 

There was once a road trip with a difference. We flew to Enugu and travelled to many locations in the East. This was in the mid-1980s when the proprietor of Baba’s alma mater, Chief Chukwura, died. Baba took my sister, Aisha, and I to the funeral. This was my very first recollection of a visit to the East with Baba, though I had been there before, to visit my grandparents, some time before the Civil War.

It was impressive to hear comments from members of the Chukwura family when they saw Baba. They said he was the pride of their husband, father and the school.  That he was a role model to all of them. That was the first time I heard Baba say something in Igbo language. 

I have never seen Baba take ill until sometime in June 1999. I was a senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria at the time. Early one morning, few weeks to my wedding, a loud continuous banging on my door woke me. A staff was crying and asking me to hurry, that it was Baba. When I rushed into his room, someone was praying in a loud voice for him.

As I moved closer, his eyes were wide open and he was sweating. I was afraid. I could hear him say, “Whatever happens Khairat, your marriage must go on. Promise me.” I rushed to the nearby State House clinic to get a doctor and ambulance. The intervention was timely and he later recovered fully. 

I recall the first time I would see Baba jump for joy and hug someone. I never knew he was capable of such expression as he is very gentle and conservative. He hardly shows emotion beyond a chuckle when he laughs. He loves to laugh and when he does, tears trickle down his cheeks. It was sometime in March 1999 at about 6pm. The front door bell rang.  As I walked down the stairs to get the door, I could see Baba heading towards the door. I stopped to see who it was and my heart missed a beat. There at the door stood Col. Lawan Gwadabe. Baba let out a surprise sound, embraced him and lifted him off the floor. It was an amazing sight to behold! He had just been released early that morning from Gboko Prison where he had been held since his death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, for allegedly plotting a coup d’état to topple Gen. Abacha. We all had dinner and Baba couldn’t stop asking him questions.  

He is so loving, God fearing, ever ready to teach. He is a man of integrity and dignity. He was careful not to spoil us and constantly came up with innovative ideas.

Baba is very compassionate and believes in defending people’s rights. After I returned to Nigeria with my LLB and was working with him. I recall a case of a young man who was wrongfully imprisoned for 27 years in Kaduna Prisons. This particular case influenced him in setting up the first Human Rights Council of Nigeria with Chief Falana and many others as founding members. 

He discovered that the man had been in prison since he was 10 years old. According to the story, the young boy was playing with his friend in a village somewhere in Kaduna/Minna Province when an argument ensued and the boys started fighting. The other boy fell and hit his head on a stone and died. The boy was arrested, taken to court and tried for murder. In those days, the judges and magistrates were Europeans. In Court, the boy could not speak English and an interpreter was asked to translate. The judge concluded from the interpretation that the boy was mentally disturbed. He found him guilty of murder and he was sentenced to prison for life. 

Baba reviewed the case 27 years later and discovered many anomalies. Eventually, he succeeded in getting the man a state pardon, but by then he was in his forties. 

While in prison, he learnt to weave baskets. Upon release, Baba made efforts to locate his village and took him back home. After a few months, Baba visited him but to our surprise, the man was unhappy and wanted to return to prison which had become the only home he knew. From that incident, I learnt that one should never attempt to improve someone’s situation without first asking them what they want. 

Another first for me with Baba was watching him cry out of compassion. He had a murder case at the Supreme Court. A young man from Calabar was accused of murder and sentenced to death. Baba took up his appeal to the Supreme Court. It was my first time at the Supreme Court as a young lawyer. The justices commended him but said unfortunately the matter was filed one day out of time, as such they could not deliberate on it. The justices said they were constrained by time, irrespective of the reason for filing out of time.

My heart broke to hear that the earlier sentence would be eventually carried out on an innocent man. And to watch my father’s reaction, for a man he did not even know, was hard. I learnt from this that everything is important and time is of the essence. 

In June 1999, when the Fourth Republic National Assembly was proclaimed, we were given only two invitation cards. Since both Baba and Mama were around, they were my guests. Baba walked taller than I had ever seen him, proudly declaring, “I am here to witness my daughter take her oath as a senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria representing the Federal Capital Territory (FCT).” I felt warm inside, seeing how proud they both were of me.

He never wanted any one to know that old age was gradually catching up with him. Whenever we go out, he would walk a few steps and stop to either say something to someone, or ask a question or simply look around before he continued to walk. That was his way of disguising his weakness. Watching him and his good health gradually slow down is hard because I have always known Baba as a strong, powerful man who was careful about what he ate and did his exercises daily.

Baba, thank you for teaching me and accepting me for who I am. Thank you for always being proud of me no matter what. Thank you for showing me how to grieve for loved ones silently with honour and dignity. You are the eldest of your siblings yet they all left you behind to lead the family. That must be a hard task to bear but you are doing it with dignity. Thank you for showing me the way. Is he a perfect father? To me, he is and he is my Baba and I love him – perfect or not. I say all these because I am my father’s daughter.

Senator AbdulRazaq-Gwadabe sent in this piece from Abuja.