Life And People
A Kaleidoscope of Hafsat Nafiu Muhammad -By Hassan Idris
Death will claim each of us, whether we embrace it or not. Its arrival remains concealed, its timing, place, and circumstances shrouded in uncertainty. May we depart this world only when Allah is pleased with our deeds and in a state of grace. Today, we grieve for Hafsat, but who knows whose turn shall come next? To anyone she may have inadvertently wronged, please find it within your hearts to forgive her, offering prayers in her memory.
In the vast expanse of this world, rare souls like Hafsat shine brightly, their presence a gem to behold. She was one of those few individuals who leave an indelible mark on the hearts of those fortunate enough to cross their path. During our time together in the Department of Sociology at ABU, Zaria, Hafsat radiated warmth and kindness towards everyone she encountered. Her smile was ever-present, and she harbored no inclination for discord. Instead, she remained steadfastly focused on her studies and cultivating meaningful connections with others. Her relationships with her classmates were a testament to her genuine character, and she often offered advice and guidance when needed. Aisha, El-hussein, Isyaku, Hauwa, Izza—Hafsat was a constant presence alongside them, their camaraderie a source of laughter and shared endeavors.
Whenever she caught sight of me, Hafsat would offer a warm greeting, accompanied by a playful nickname, be it “Karl Marx” or “Aboo Salmarh.” Her words were complemented by a radiant smile, revealing a row of beautiful teeth, while her glasses shimmered, mirroring the sun’s gentle caress. Little did we know that behind her jovial facade, she was waging a silent battle. Hafsat cherished her parents dearly, praying fervently for their well-being and extending her blessings to the entire Muslim Ummah.
Hesitant to showcase herself on social media, Hafsat rarely shared pictures on Facebook or wrote extensively on her timeline. Instead, she dedicated her virtual presence to supplications for her family, herself, and the wider Muslim community. With a simple gesture, such as liking or commenting on a post, she would surprise friends and acquaintances alike. I once questioned her about her minimal activity on social media, to which she responded with a lighthearted laugh, deflecting the inquiry. On WhatsApp, she would view my status and offer a greeting with her customary warmth, “Aboo Salmarh, ya akayi?” Hafsat embodied simplicity, joy, and happiness, enveloping those around her with love and countless blessings bestowed by Allah. She possessed all the qualities that any parent would yearn for in a child, and her struggles remained hidden, known only to her.
During one conversation, I expressed my concern at not seeing her as frequently, and she confided that she wasn’t feeling well, plagued by joint pain that limited her mobility. Playfully, I boasted of my ability to traverse the distance between the Department of Sociology and North Gate multiple times without fatigue, assuming her illness was akin to a mere bout of malaria or a temporary ailment commonly associated with women. Little did I grasp the gravity of her condition. On May 10th of this year, she marked World Lupus Day on her timeline, earnestly requesting prayers, but alas, her plea went largely unnoticed.
Hafsat Nafiu Muhammad valiantly fought the battle against lupus—a relentless adversary. Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE), as it is scientifically known, is a chronic autoimmune disease that unleashes its havoc upon numerous bodily systems, including the skin, joints, kidneys, heart, lungs, brain, and blood cells. Within this complex disorder, the immune system, rather than targeting harmful pathogens, turns upon itself, ruthlessly attacking healthy tissues and organs. While the precise origins of lupus elude our understanding, it is believed to arise from a combination of genetic, environmental, and hormonal factors. These intricacies contribute to the onset and progression of the disease, rendering its impact highly individualized.
Our last conversation hinted at her absence, as she revealed her ongoing health struggles. I assured her I would call to check on her, but life’s demands consumed my attention, and I failed to reach out until yesterday afternoon, following my return from the village, where I attended my late aunt’s seven-day prayer. I intended to seek updates from a mutual friend, only to be abruptly struck by the devastating news of Hafsat’s passing. Her untimely departure has left an irreplaceable void and served as a stark reminder for us all. The kaleidoscope of memories she painted on our lives shall forever remain, while the scar of her loss etches deeply within our collective consciousness. We mourn, and we shall mourn. Let us vow to diligently care for one another, perpetually checking on the well-being of those we hold dear. For we are all but transient beings, shackled by the inevitability of mortality.
Death will claim each of us, whether we embrace it or not. Its arrival remains concealed, its timing, place, and circumstances shrouded in uncertainty. May we depart this world only when Allah is pleased with our deeds and in a state of grace. Today, we grieve for Hafsat, but who knows whose turn shall come next? To anyone she may have inadvertently wronged, please find it within your hearts to forgive her, offering prayers in her memory. Hafsat’s passing struck me with such force that tears flowed unabated, and my heart now weighs heavy with grief. May Allah, in His infinite mercy, forgive her shortcomings and grant her soul eternal paradise, adorned with love and beauty. May He bestow upon her family the fortitude to endure this irreparable loss. The void created by her absence extends beyond her family; it engulfs the entire Muslim community, the Department of Sociology at ABU, Zaria, and all U16 Sociology students. Let us now arrange this tribute, encapsulating her essence, with delicate words that touch the depths of our souls. This homage is dedicated to my beloved coursemate, Hafsat, who departed this realm yesterday.
©Hassan Idris.
6th June,2023.
