Who is he, my hero?

With tears in my eyes and a deep void in my heart, it’s been 10 years since my hero left us, never to come back. The void is for all the things I wish I had learnt, for all the moments I missed to express my love. It’s for the admiration I have for him […]

With tears in my eyes and a deep void in my heart, it’s been 10 years since my hero left us, never to come back. The void is for all the things I wish I had learnt, for all the moments I missed to express my love. It’s for the admiration I have for him and all he represents, for the emotions I can’t express without soaking this paper with tears. It’s also for a reciprocated feeling that alas, I’d never receive.
But who is he, my Hero?
 He is the one, who from his secondary school days was kind, caring, helpful and generous. He took his time to follow up on those who needed help in understanding Maths, Further maths etc, and patiently taught them until they did. An old classmate who searched for us to condole with us told me that much. He was smart and brilliant as the tests and exam papers he cached showed, and he was always willing to help others.
He was one whom all his course mates that I’ve met shower with praises. One of them had said: “He was kind and intelligent; dedicated and diligent; passionate and hardworking.” No wonder he graduated with a first class degree in Physics.
He stood for principles which guided his decisions like when he accepted a scholarship for a MSc. in the UK instead of MPhil. in the US because the MSc. offered more opportunity for growth. He stood for honesty without being blunt, was straightforward, compassionate and hardworking such that by 28 he had earned a PhD.
He valued his religious and Hausa heritage. He was proudly a Hausa man in the UK, a devout Muslim and one time Amir of Nigerian Muslim Forum, UK (NMFUK). He embodied this in appearance and manners without being too eccentric. He made friends with his professors and students. He was a guide to his fellow Hausa men (and even other Nigerians) lost in a foreign land, and was a pillar not only to the community but also to many who to this day, still refer to him as a friend.
This is my hero. As a husband and father, he valued the development of his young family and siblings, that he put them before his career and ambition. He came back to Nigeria to become father (after they lost theirs) to more than 20 siblings yet to even finish secondary schools while nurturing his own family.
 He was a family man who was stern and disciplined to his four kids but also kind and caring. He was strong enough to bear the loss of one but still empathetic and supportive to his wife then and at all other times. He balanced his drive for his children’s academic excellence with religious and moral guidance. He was to them strict yet gentle, firm but kind. He either agrees with you and keeps to his word or convinces you why he wouldn’t agree.
He was very sociable, lighting up any discussion, and making friends with people he meets for the first time. He made friends across all divides that his family was hosted for weekends in a village in Abia State by one of his friends. My hero was very generous. He was a problem solver. His friends and especially office staff testified to this.
Sadly, all these he was. And not all did I learn. I wish my hero still is, for I have heard stories and accounts from people whose lives he impacted. I know of at least 5 babies who have been named after him. I have met people that are eternally grateful to him. But what was missing was me learning all those from him, me growing up to be like him.
Although my mum has his compassion, generosity, gentleness, empathy, dedication, resoluteness and more; but she is not a substitute for him. My elder sister, Sumayyah, has his thoughtfulness, honesty, politeness, charisma, insight and more; yet she isn’t another him. Ibrahim, my younger one, is hard working like my hero, brilliant, ingenious, dedicated and diligent, but still he can’t replace my hero. The last of us, Ahmad Musaddiq, although still young (11 years) has his cheerfulness, creativity, brilliance but still isn’t exactly him. I have picked a little from his sociability, hard work and dedication to a passion, brilliance and creativity, but I am not him. We have all picked different things and only together can we be like him for others.
This is my hero. This is his legacy. This is who I hope to be like. This is my late dad. This is Dr. Adnan Kabir.
May Allah enlighten your grave and unite us in Al-Jannatul Firdaus.