By Nasiru L. Abubakar
It is exactly four years since the passing away of our dear father and renowned Islamic scholar Sheikh Lawal Abubakar. He died on May 24, 2004 around 5:15 pm. And as the Almighty Allah will have it, at the time of his death, he left four wives, 30 children and 50 grandchildren behind. Now, two of the children have died, – Mansir died Wednesday March 7, 2007 and Haula died Wednesday April 30, 2008 – thereby reducing our number to 28. But the number of grandchildren has since hit 73, and still counting. Just two days ago there was a naming ceremony.
I still remember things Malam, as we fondly call our father, used to tell me as though he told me just yesterday. And they have impacted on me so much that I still see him giving his consent or refusing same in almost everything I do. I remember during one of the last discussions I had with him, which centred on marriage. "Marriage," he told me then "is not something you rush into simply because people say it is full of joy. Likewise, it is not something you should shy away from just because those who did are complaining, or because you are yet to possess some things. As far as marriage is concerned, every body has his own peculiar experience."
Malam did not ask me to get married, at least not directly. But the import of that admonition, contained in that memorable discussion, was never lost on me. I took it to mean a reminder that time was going. Somehow, I did not get married until two years after his death. The Almighty Allah certainly has a reason for that. And as someone whose love for children was well known, I would have loved to see him play with my year-old daughter, Yusra (another of his grand children he never lived to see).
Indeed, as a family, our most trying time without Malam was when on Wednesday February 21, 2007, the books and the handwritten notes he left behind were gutted by midnight fire. The books, mostly on Islamic law and jurisprudence, may not be recovered from bookshops because some of them were given to him directly by their authors either in Saudi Arabia or elsewhere.
The jealousy with which Malam guarded his books perhaps attests to the esteem with which he held them. While he was alive, he hardly lends out his book because they may not be returned. He would rather advice even we his children to buy our own books than rely on his own. And somehow, he has a way of finding out when his books are tampered with, let alone removed from where they originally were. He attached so much relevance to the books hoping that it would turn out to be of help to his children and other people who have reasons to refer to them.
The handwritten notes some of 40 forty years cannot be recovered. Malam was fond of writing footnotes and attaching them to his books for the sake of simplicity and easy understanding for those who may come into contact with the books. The written texts of Wa’azin Musulunci, an Islamic programme – some parts of it have being compiled into a book – have vanished in the inferno. Luckily the audio is still been aired on Radio Nigeria, Kaduna, Kano State Radio and some other private stations.
I still recall the day the compiled book on Wa’azin Musulunci was launched at the Ahmadu Bello Stadium, Kaduna. Malam said he only gave the publishers of the book the go ahead because he had realised that his days on earth were moving fast. He apologised to those who initially came up with the idea, but which he turned because he feared people will see it as a form of self glorification. Malam also told the gathering that the Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria (FRCN) Kaduna, perhaps first alerted him that he was nearing his grave when they began recording and documenting his programmes. Before, old tapes were wiped with new ones.
Another thing I will never forget about my father was his characteristic humility, straightforwardness and humour. For the entire time I interacted with my father, I don’t remember him referring to himself as Sheikh whether in words or writing. He usually addressed himself simply as Imam Lawal Abubakar, no more, no less. He also never got tired of stressing the importance of education (both Islamic and western) and gave us all the encouragement we needed. "If you see people respecting me, it is because of the knowledge Allah (SWT) has blessed me with," he would say.
I also remember one day when two of our brothers had a quarrel between them. Let’s refer to them as Mr. A and Mr. B for this reason. Somehow Mr A managed to be the first to report the matter to Malam. Malam sent for Mr B but Mr. A came back to say that he (Mr. B) said he would not come. When Mr. B finally came, Malam said he would not listen to him since he would not answer his call. So Mr B threatened not to go to school where he was writing exams since Malam will not listen to him. When one of our mothers went and told Malam what Mr. B said, Malam came personally to where he was sitting. "Yi hakuri ka je ka rubuta jarabawar, maganar ta wuce" (in Hausa meaning, be patient, go and write your exams). For education, Malam was always willing to ‘accept a lie’ especially one done carefully.
Today, one of the things I enjoy doing is listening to those who know him very closely, I mean his contemporaries. One of them, Malam Ukasha, a Kano-based Islamic scholar is perhaps my favourite for obvious reasons. Malam Ukasha’s friendship with Malam dates back to years when they were teens moving from one place to another in search of knowledge, and later struggling to make ends meet.
Just last month we – myself, and three of my siblings – visited him in Kano, where we went to condole with the family of late Alhassan Abdallah (another friend of Malam who died recently). I listened to Malam Ukasha with interest as he narrated to us how he served as the intermediary when my father took in my mother as wife. Malam Ukasha told us how he, together with one his wives, took my mother from Garin Gabas in present day Jigawa State to Kaduna Government College where Malam was teaching then.
"Malam Lawal never saw her before the marriage was contracted. I was the one who took the dowry and everything to the bride’s parent. I was also the one who brought her to Kaduna. When we arrived at the school, he was inside the classroom with students. I excused him to come outside. When he came outside, I handed his wife over to him and told him that I would be going back to Kano. He thanked me but prevailed on me to stay and eat before leaving. He said definitely the lesson was over as it there was no way it would continue," Malam Ukasha recalled.
He also told us about their days in Lagos (engaged in the business of selling perfumes). Our father stayed in Lagos, South West Nigeria for quite a significant time that, till he died, he spoke passable Yoruba. I first learnt about it while I accompanied him on a journey to Kokami, his hometown in present day Danja local government area of Katsina State. Malam literally communicated with a vulcaniser when we stopped briefly somewhere around Jaji, along Kaduna-Zaria highway, to gauge our tyres.
I must admit that people like Malam Ukasha are the ones I like meeting everyday. People who will tell me things about my father, who will never end narrating their experiences of the man that has impacted so much on my life and that of my siblings without a word of prayer for him, who treat us as though he is still alive. May Allah afford us the strength to continue to pray for the soul of the departed and bless us with those who will pray for us when we depart.
*Note: This tribute was written in 2008 to mark the fourth year anniversary of the death of my father.
Nasiru Lawal Abubakar is a Post Graduate Student of Mass Communication at Bayero University Kano
