What do I write, and how do I compose a tribute when I’m still struggling to accept the reality of your passage? I certainly cannot pen down a tribute at the moment but a lamentation over your passage because the last 48 hours have been most dampening and full of grieving.
Why should death choose you at this early age when you deserve to live forever? It suffices to assert that a heroine has indeed fallen. You spent just 64years when I wished you had lived up to 80-100years. Indeed, if wishes were horses, the beggars could as well ride them.
At about 11:20am on Sunday, 22nd December 2024, while at the construction site, I got a distress call from her driver, who informed me that my mother had died, and I responded in a jiffy Who? He said Alhaja, I repeated which Alhaja, he said Alhaja Ajisafe and I still asked again which Ajisafe? Baba then aborted the call. I don’t know if I’m mad or the caller cos I’m yet to ascertain the person he was referring to.
As I tried to return the callback, the line wasn’t responding, and I quickly put the call through to her shop; the first person didn’t pick up the call as I don’t remember who to call again. Immediately, my mind told me to call the person’s husband, and he hurriedly notified me.
Everything was disorganized by that abrupt and unforeseen information while I fell and people started consoling me. My apprentices have gathered, brought out my clothes, and called a bike for me.
When the bike man dropped me at Apata, Ibadan, I tried to take another bike going to Mokola. I received another distressed call that one of my boys at the site had fallen from the top of the scaffold. I then urged his colleagues to please take him to the nearby hospital for treatment with the aim that it’s just a minor injury but Alhamdulillah.
Upon my arrival from work, amidst my jittery mood and interaction with the neighbors, I got on the phone; I disclosed that Alhaja had truly died and she was receiving her ritual bath at Ojongbodu. As I walked in, I was reluctantly taken to the room where she was lying lifelessly. She has finished bathing and has been clothed. I sobbed and offered some prayers for her return to her creator.
It was like I was dreaming because an uncommon woman of zeal, character, and doggedness, who’s very strong and agile without any signs or symptoms of sickness, could leave us unnoticed. She is a woman who impacted so many lives and whose passion for service to humanity is highly admirable. She brought happiness and joy to countless and, most of all, was a genuine human being who lived an honorable life.
Alhaja, as I fondly call her, is a woman of great value; she is of invaluable character; her worth as a woman, wife, and mother is priceless; her status as a religious mother is unequaled. She’s a unifier, bridge-builder, and a rare gem who always connects and associates everyone together.
If it remains ordinary 500 naira in her pocket and she has not eaten, then someone suddenly walks in, and she will dash the person with that money. Alhaja had never hidden anything from me but rather would say take that purse and let’s share the money. People around her are always jealous of how she used to treat me.
Just last week, 4 days before her demise, she facilitated an award for me. Even when I rejected it, she spoke in awe that she wished to honor me and my brother, not knowing it would be the last honor she would bestow on me.
Esuulola Ọmọ’ba is a perfect definition of humility and humanity personified, an icon of faith and perseverance, resilience, and very vivacious. A woman who, till the end, lived by her values and always smiled amid challenges.
I looked at myself like a broken record and therein wept again as someone came closer to console me. Then, I realized Alhaja was dead, as I keenly and closely looked at her lifeless body in dismay and silent awe.
However, after some hours’ time, around 4 p.m., I cautioned myself and pretentiously became a man, and we went for solar Asrh. Hence, arrangements were made to convey her remains in convoy and bury her according to Islamic rites.
Mummy, I don’t love you because of anything; I do simply because you possess everything that deserves love and care; I do because you made me understand that light will surely supersede darkness; I do because you want the best and success for other people’s children.
Why so soon? You left unannounced and your departure was never foreseen by anyone. As my tears splash on this writing, I feel more pain. I can’t pretend that I am fine because I miss you so much; your demise has created a vacuum only God Almighty can fill.
I pray God Almighty overlooks all your shortcomings, accepts your return, and finds you worthy of a place in Alanah furious, A’ameen.
