By: Hussaina Mohammed Yakubu
Allahu Akbar! God is indeed great. “Every soul shall have a taste of death, at the end to Us shall ye be brought back,” the Almighty Allah has always reminded us in the Holy Qur’an chapter 29, verse 57.
It is almost unbelievable that a year has passed since you were committed to Mother Earth on October 9, 2023.
As I sit down to write this tribute, it feels surreal; my dear twin sister, Hassana, is fondly called “Hassylove” by colleagues, friends, and schoolmates. You were “Mommy” at home, named after our beloved Paternal grandmother.
Even though you are no longer here, the memory of you remains vivid and ever-present, not a day has gone by without the profound weight of your absence in my heart.
You were more than just a sister, You were my best friend. You understood me in a way no one else could. One look at me and you would know my thoughts
Now, I am left wondering who will understand my unspoken words and deep pains like you did. Allah Sarki, the one who knew me best, is gone.
You were an unstoppable force, a journalist who continued working even from your sickbed. Despite battling cancer for eight solid years, you never gave up. You held on, believing that you would one day overcome.
But in the end, it was Allah’s will that triumphed, and His decision is always the final one and best. In so many ways, you were my rock.
You would often call me reckless with money, and you were right. I lacked discipline when it came to spending, but you were the responsible one. I never worried because I always knew that after running out of money, I had you.
Allah sarki! I miss the times when you would scold me for spending too much and help me come back to my senses. You gave me everything, your ATM number, your app password, and the assurance that I could always depend on you.
But now, there’s no one to fall back on. The safety net I had with you is gone, I have nowhere to turn. There’s no backup, no reserve, no Hassana and I am left to face it all on my own.
You were not just my sister, but my better half, my support system, my everything. I know there will never be another like you. We were closer to each other than we were to anyone else, even our parents. We were true partners in life, and now, I feel like I’m alone in this vast world.
The heaviness I felt on the day of your passing has never left. But I have to keep moving forward, pretending all is well, for you, for our late father, and our aged mother.
You were always the quieter one; patient and understanding. People used to say, “Hassana is more quiet than you,” and they were right. You tolerated all my excesses and stood by me no matter what.
On weekends, when it was time to clean or wash our clothes, you were always the one to start early, while I would sleep in. You would call out for me to join you, but I often refused, preferring my rest. Yet, you never complained you would wash everything for both of us. Now, who will do that for me? Who will be there to share the simple, precious moments of life?
Your legacy lives on Hassylove. In your memory, I established Hassy’s Haven Foundation to support cancer patients who as you did, are battling for their lives.
May this foundation continue to grow and help others, just as you helped me and others in ways I can never forget.
Though painful, I have come to accept that this is Allah’s will.
It is, however, still hard to grasp that you, my better half, are gone forever. Life without you has been a lonely and traumatic journey, but as a Muslim, I know that this world is temporary, and one day, I will join you, sooner or later.
May Allah continue to expand your grave, my dear sister, and that of our father. May He grant you both Jannat al-Firdaus. Baba is gone, and Momy Baba is gone. One day, I know we will all be reunited in paradise, Insha’Allah.
Aameen.
