Death

By Muhammad Sabiu

Musa Labaran, a farmer from Kebbi State, has lost five of his children in a boat accident on Wednesday.

The event occurred when a boat carrying Labaran, his five children, and two other passengers to their fields across the river collapsed due to strong winds near Yauri.

According to reports, while the other two passengers were retrieved alive, Labaran’s fifth child’s remains have yet to be discovered.

“The four bodies recovered are all of my children, three boys and a girl. The fifth one is a boy, and he is yet to be found.

“The boat capsized while we were in the middle of the river. I did my best to save them but couldn’t hold on to five of them. I held on to the girl while trying to swim to the river bank but eventually lost grip of her,” Mr Labaran said.

This is not the first time lives were lost in a boat mishap in the state, as some months ago, over 50 passengers, many of whom were children, were feared dead after their boat capsized.

By Omar Muaz

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful. All praise is due to Allah, the Lord of the world, the Creator of death and life, the Everliving, the Self-subsisting by whom all subsist; slumber doesn’t overtake Him nor sleep; whatever in the heavens and world is His. “Every soul will taste death, and you will only be given your [full] compensation on the day of resurrection. So he who is drawn away from the fire and admitted to Paradise has attained [his desire]. And what is the life of this world except the enjoyment of delusion” —Qur’an

My uncle, Hamza Muaz, is the best definition of detachment as far as the world around me is concerned. “Had it not been our culture to wear babban riga and to put on caps, I would spend my life wearing jalabiya—a white ankle-length shirt, with long sleeves, that buttoned up to the neck.” he once said that to us while advising us to renounce luxuries and worldly pleasure for the one in the afterlife.

I have seen humble people on this earth and have read biographies of thousands of humble people, but what kind of my uncle’s humbleness? That? I have never seen nor have I ever read of its ditto. I have lost words to highlight his positive features. But I know, and yes, they’re confirmed by many people who know who he was, that he was religious, trustworthy, loyal, devotional and very determined.

Hamza Muaz was born in 1982 in a small village of Hawul Local Government Area of Borno state. He attended The Islamic University of al-Madinah al-Munawarah, where he held a Bachelor’s degree in Hadith and Islamic Studies. It’s still fresh in my mind the reading moment we had together. Around 2019, when I visited him in Abuja, I remember he taught me Hadith throughout the days. So, I can say without a number that his hobby was “teaching.”

While battling the throes of his illness, “Only in this world,” he paused, and I realized he needed water “…learn, learn because it’s only through that, you could earn light for the hereafter.” So he told me after taking the water. He barely talked in his sickbed, but whenever he got to, he injected into us “knowledge.”

There was a night when everyone was sleeping except him and me. He smiled and reminded me of two prophetic traditions on sickness. “No fatigue, nor disease, nor sorrow, nor sadness, nor hurt, nor distress befalls a Muslim, even if it were the prick he receives from a thorn, but that Allah expiates some of his sins for that,” I said indeed. He said, “I am nothing compared to our beloved prophet, Muhammad (PBUH)…” while shedding tears, “Aisha (R) reported that she had never seen anybody suffering so much from sickness as Allah’s Messenger (PBUH).”

“This is true!” I interrupted. “Therefore, If Allah wants to do good to somebody, He afflicts him with trials.” He concluded with this Hadith and dozed off. May his soul rest in peace. All he did in the hospital besides taking his medication was reciting Qur’an and teaching people.

Rest in peace, Abban Hammad. He was married with a son, Muaz, named after our grandfather and nicknamed “HAMMAD”, which has overtones of being praiseful. Treasure? I know he left behind over 1000 books (may the books be beneficial to the world). That was him. O Allah, forgive my uncle, Hamza Muazu, and elevate his station among those who are guided. Send him along the path of those who came before, and forgive him and us, O Lord of the worlds. Enlarge for him his grave and shed light upon him in it.

Omar Muaz sent this article via muazuumar45@gmail.com.

By Mukhtar Jarmajo

Aside from the fact that boarding secondary school provides the ground for moral and academic excellence, it is also a platform for socialization. People of different backgrounds in terms of social class, religion, culture and even thoughts converge in one place, of course from different corners of the country, to mingle as they work and walk towards civilization. It was undoubtedly for the above and many other reasons that on October 2, 1999, we all converged in Hassan Ibrahim Gwarzo Secondary Schools, Kano. We were there to pursue knowledge in a journey of self-search with the hope that in the end, we will make a responsible community from which society will benefit.

And so it happened, through time, we endured all the rigours and the backbreaking toil that come with the boarding school environment and with the challenges of learning, especially in a setting that the late Prof. Ibrahim Alƙali Ayagi managed. In aiming for excellence, Ayagi always raised the bar for promotion to the next class. From the policy that a student must pass all core science subjects to mathematically create the formula which postulated that the average of a student’s cumulative scores must be higher than that of the class before promotion, Ayagi kept us on our toes throughout the time. 

And for senior secondary classes, it was the famous Operation Credit Only (OCO). One morning in 2003, the boys and the girls in senior secondary classes gathered for a combined assembly. Prof. Ayagi used the opportunity to announce the new policy that the least acceptable score for us was a credit. He also announced that from that day, the SS2 and SS3 syllabuses would be covered in SS2. So that in SS3, it will be “revision, revision and revision only.” And to achieve this, we had classes during evening preps and during holidays in what was referred to as “extension classes.” 

And true to it, the efforts of the school management, as well as our commitment and doggedness, paid off. As a result, the school began to have better JAMB/WAEC/NECO results. Thus by the time we obtained our O’ Level results in 2005, it was the best at that time. Both the JAMB and SSCE results were commendable. Hence, that year, O’ Level holders from Hassan Ibrahim Gwarzo Secondary Schools got unprecedented placements in universities worldwide. 

Many of us got admission to Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University (ATBU), Bauchi. Murli Mahmood, Shaheeda Abdullahi Umar, Ismail Umar (Ashaka), Amina Ahmad Usman, Abdulhafiz Nuhu Ahmad, Rahanatu Ahmad Aliyu, Umar Saidu Abashe, Abdulqadir Hussaini Mukhtar, Salamatu Bashir Dogara, Usman Nagado Usman, Abdullahi Farouk Bello and I got admissions into various departments. But as providence would have it, few left the university for other schools for one reason or the other. 

Murli Attaib Mahmood left for Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, to continue studying Geology, which he started at ATBU. He later obtained a Bachelor’s degree there, and after the compulsory national youth service (NYSC), Murli Mahmood joined the services of the Bauchi State Judiciary some years ago. He got married last year (2021) and died on January 8. Innalillahi wa inna alaihir ra ji un! 

In the early hours of that fateful day and on the Maiduguri bypass in Bauchi, Murli Mahmood got involved in a fatal auto crash. It happened at the Ramadan Press junction that links the bypass with the ever-busy Murtala Muhammed way. Murli Mahmood came from Awala Roundabout, which is on the bypass. And while trying to crossover to move into Murtala Muhammed way, a commercial bus came from the popular Gidan-Mai Roundabout, heading towards Awala Roundabout, only to hit Murli’s car on the passenger side. 

And because of the high speed with which the commercial bus came, Murli, who was on the driving wheel, could not withstand the intensity of the pressure exerted on him. As a result, he sustained internal injuries and almost immediately succumbed to death. On arrival at the Abubakar Tafawa-Balewa University Teaching Hospital (ATBUTH), medical personnel confirmed his death. That was how he left without saying goodbye to us. 

The last time we spoke was on January 3. He called me on the phone around 8 pm for consultation on his intention to participate in the elections of the Bauchi State chapter of the Judicial Staff Union of Nigeria (JUSUN). Murli told me that he wanted to contest either the seat of the Treasurer or that of the Chairman. After a lengthy discussion, I advised him to go for the Chairmanship position. However, we concluded that the final decision would be made when he sat with his father. I then requested that I be made a member of the Campaign Council even though I don’t belong to the JUSUN. 

From then, the next thing that came to me was the news of Murli’s shocking death. After the early morning prayers on January 8, I tuned in BBC Hausa 06:30 am program. While listening, I slept off only to wake up a few minutes later to realize I missed 11 calls, mainly from Ismail Umar (Ashaka). When I called back, he broke the sad news to me. I immediately broke the news in the WhatsApp group of the Class of 2005, jumped out of bed and rushed to the Gida-Dubu estate where Murli Mahmood resided. 

Before I got there, his lifeless body was already home, and it was being bathed in accordance with Islamic rites. I profusely cried when I saw Muhammad Ma’amun (Baban-Bauchi), one of his closest elder cousins, preparing Murli’s body for funeral prayers. It certainly took a lot of courage for him to be there, especially because they have, over time, metamorphosed into friends. It was through Murli we knew Baban-Bauchi. His elder brother, Aslam and younger brother, Asdaq, were also around. But I did not see both of them close to Murli’s body. One can imagine the grief that weathered the time. It was unquestionably a moment of heartache, so the atmosphere was tense. 

At 1 pm, the Janaaza prayer took place, and Murli Attaib Mahmood was buried. He was a man of the people who related very well with us. He was a friend maker who maintained cordial relationships with almost everyone in his network. We have indeed lost a true friend who never failed to be present in our times of need. I have lost a friend of about 20 years who grew up to become a family. I have also lost my “political opponent.” We hardly stood on the same political side. Therefore, in most cases, we debated our points to buttress our stands. Meanwhile, I must acknowledge that Murli`s political and socio-economic views were based on his genuine concerns for a better society. I have indeed lost a friend and brother!

May the soul of Murli Mahmood rest in eternal peace. Ameen!

Jarmajo can be reached via dattuwamanga@gmail.com.