“Every soul shall taste death, and you will only be given your (full) compensation on the Day of Resurrection.”.– Surah Al-Imran, 3 (185).
When the Daily Trust newspaper of Thursday last week published the story of the loss of my brother Mouftah with my name in the title, I felt it was unfair to him. He did not need my name to inform the world that we lost him. Then, two days later, the paper did justice. It again published the story of his death, this time with his name in the title.
I would apologize if I suspect I am being immodest to speak of my brother in this manner, but those who knew him will understand that he deserved to stand on his own, living or dead. I felt the intended honour of the association by the paper, and I assumed the editors did not think it an overkill to do a story about Mouftah’s death twice in two days. It was one way you could do justice to people like Mouftah.
How does one write about people like Mouftah? More to the point: how does one write about a person like Mouftah if he were your brother and you are sensitive about not appearing emotional and immodest? For those who knew him well, I will be safe. For those who did not, it will be challenging to accept renditions of post-mortem from blood brothers who undertake classification and characterization that make dead relations special. This is, in more ways than one, a condolence message to Mouftah’s vast numbers of friends, comrades, associates, acquaintances, and even people who spent an hour with him. Today, I speak of Mouftah because his life deserves a few words in the history of great individuals who stood out or defied routine characterization, mainly in the cause of good.
He was one of more than 30 offspring of a Mauritanian who made the rounds of southern Europe, West Africa and colonial Nigeria before deciding to make a home and life in Zaria from the early ’20s. This lone, learned Arab from a famous clan in his country has established one of the largest, thoroughly Nigerian families. At a time Northern Muslim communities were resisting Western education, he was sending his children, including females, to learn from the colonialist’s education and skills. He later assumed a role in shaping a future Muslim leadership in a developing colony where Northerners wanted to be both modern and religious. As a young boy, Mouftah had role models in famous seniors in the family who had made the family name a household. His humble rank, defined purely and strictly by age, made him almost invisible while he learned the ropes in the context of foundational values of religious faith, learning and humility.
By the time he was adult enough to begin to reveal his full character, one of his most enduring qualities became visible. This was his incredible ability for making and retaining friends from all classes and social categories. He became part of everything that was close or around him, fitting in easily and becoming a very visible element of circles and friends. As he progressed beyond university, many elders and potential mentors took him under their wings, assigning him responsibilities far beyond his age and education. He was trusted by trusted people; challenged by a personality trait that defied the possibility of failure, and aided by a towering intellect and a character that made learning on the ropes a lot easier. He could anchor a sensitive meeting in the morning, write a brilliant memo on corporate strategy in the afternoon and hang out with friends from eight different parts of the country in the night.
Mouftah’s intellect (developed through many sources beginning from our father who drilled enquiry into us to the level of religious faith) was massive. He cherished the search for knowledge and answers and deployed what he gained into advocacy, teaching, debates and arguments that could last for days if he found a willing partner. He must have been worth millions before he became 30, but in our family, he was still one of many who sat on the floor. He made many mistakes and faulty judgements most of which he used as lessons. Some of his biggest assets were his capacity to nurture a disciplined family and a large circle of friends who defy contemporary perceptions that we Nigerians live in parochial circles that reinforce our narrow identities.
He mentored countless young Nigerians, debated complex social or religious phenomena for days or weeks, and disliked hypocrisy. He would offer no apologies for views he thought could be justified by reference to faith or region, while sharing space with others who held contrary views on many boisterous social media platforms. I have not known anyone with a wider variety of genuine friends from every part of Nigeria than Mouftah. He was respected by the highest ranks of Nigerians as much for his personal opinions as by his respect for social and political hierarchies. He held strong political views, but will not quarrel with others over them. In a family like ours with diverse political opinions and preferences, he skillfully meandered around and respected our choices as we all did, aware of the sanctities and hierarchy of loyalties and the bonds of kinship.
Mouftah died and was buried in Madina. Muslims will understand the significance of this and pray that Allah will bestow on him privileges of an end like this. His non-Muslim friends will rue not having a chance to show how much they valued him during his brief illness. Nigeria lost a very powerful player in the political and economic sphere who preferred to stay behind the scene. His immediate family which rallied around him in the most commendable manner until his last breath will now have to find the strength to preserve his legacies and his values. The huge Baba Ahmed family lost a member who was a study in humility and loyalty to relationships, faith and the nation. He asked that we beg for forgiveness from everyone he may have offended. He died without a grievance or regret. May Allah admit him in Aljannah.
The post My late brother, Mouftah, by Hakeem Baba-Ahmed appeared first on Vanguard News.
