Muhammad Muhsin Ibrahim
@muhsin234 (Twitter)
Many people welcome the month of April with the popular April Fool prank; however, from 2012 onward, the month will be remembered as April Fool by the family and friends of Talban Taura, Alhaji Muhd Lawan (Alhaji Abba), who lives in Gwale LGA, Kano. A tragedy befell the family on the 1st April in that year, when his 20-year-old daughter, A’isha, was murdered in cold blood, just a few weeks away from her wedding. Forgive a little digression: this is the first written tribute I am paying to anyone’s life. This is, nonetheless, not because nobody so significant in my life has died before; in fact, people dearest and nearest to me, like my mother, an eldest brother and sister, among others, have died. To say I miss them is literally an understatement. I never forget to beseech Allah, the Exalted, to have mercy on their souls.
However, the death of A’isha is instead a unique one, for the cause was so unnatural, though unavoidable, fatalistically speaking. No one has to die before their time. But her murder demonstrates to all the ill and decay, and the uncertainty the Nigerians live in daylong, especially in these turbulent days of the attacks by the dreaded Boko Haram insurgents. Although soldiers in the name of Joint Task Forces (JTF) are deployed in the troubled areas to combat the situation, the turmoil and the torturous conditions just exacerbate, for the protectors turned predators and therefore, incompetently, freely slay the people they are meant to safeguard, like Aisha.
Aisha Muhd Taura’s life was cut short at its prime by a JTF’s personnel. The inept soldier was drunk and thus shot aimlessly at another motorist who tried to flee their checkpoint at Panshekara area, Kano, when ‘strayed’ bullets fell like rain on other cars, including A’isha’s, where one travelled straight to her abdomen. Although quickly taken to the hospital, it was unfortunately too late; Aisha was beyond human redemption, and thus breathed her last on that fateful night. She left this dirty world for us to live in; for her killers to dine, and for them to live forever if they could. She’s now free from all the hustles, all the troubles, all the pitfalls, and all the struggles that characterise the daily life of Nigerians, most of the time.
Miss Aisha, of blessed memory, was accompanied by her family: her twins, her nursing mother, her immediate younger brother, who was driving the car and whose life was saved only by sheer providence, and her younger sister. Alhamdulillah! You visited a relative, a sick, pregnant aunt; for this alone, we should not cry foul because of your loss. The Prophet Muhammad, may Allah exalt his mention, says that Allah, the Exalted, raises a person in the manner in which he died on the Resurrection Day. Now we know that you will be resurrected en route to visit a relative, a rewarding visit in all faiths and cultures.
Aisha was my student, whom I have, however, never taught. She was a student at the college where I had a stint of work. Since her uncles are my friends and we live in the same neighbourhood, she showed me a great deal of respect, which automatically endeared her to me, and I vowed to do everything possible for her. To reciprocate my care and concern, she began to fondly call me “Uncle”. Once I told her: “Aisha, I’m not your ‘uncle’; I teach the Junior Classes, and you’re in the Senior Class…in fact, you are graduating this year.” Her response was one of the best I ever heard a typical Hausa girl utter: “Whoever teaches in your school is equally your teacher.”
I would not be fair to tell lies about her. Aisha, although not well-lit or intelligent, loved her studies and wished to further them. Unless you interacted, one would just say she, above all, wanted to be married off and abandon her studies. She didn’t. Besides, Aisha was gorgeous, friendly, respectful and obedient. She loved everyone, especially her family members. This reminds me of the day they sat for the Hausa language exam during the West African Examination Council (WAEC), 2010/2011 session. When composing an article about an unforgettable moment in her life, she wrote a sombre, nostalgic story about how she parted with her younger sister, Zainab, who had died a couple of years earlier. When asked why such a touchy topic, she told me that that was what she could never, ever forget. Oh, Allah! Today I do write the same for you, dear Aisha.
May Allah avenge the death of every innocent massacred in this way by either the Boko Haram or the JTF members, amin. May the Almighty Allah forgive all your sins and admit you into Al-Jannatul Firdaus! May He give your parents, brothers and sisters, friends and well-wishers and all the fortitude to bear your everlasting, ever-vacuous absence. Adieu, Aisha!
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