“Death,” Nelson Mandela once said, “is something inevitable. When a man has done what he considers to be his duty to his people and his country, he can rest in peace.”
Innalillahi wa’inna ilaihir raji’un (from Allah we all come and to Him, we shall definitely return). I woke up in my hotel room in Lagos State to get ready for an early morning flight around 0430am on the fateful Saturday, only to be rudely shocked by the news of Malam Abbah Kyari’s death.
I was shocked to the marrow, truly moved and eviscerated. I was hoping it was just fake news from his transducers.
I kept on saying, “death is a fearful thing,” a line I borrowed from William Shakespeare.
Since his appointment in 2015 by President Muhammadu Buhari as his Chief of Staff, Malam was broadly known as a villain, grossly misunderstood, and intentionally misstated. But his eyes were fiercely on the ball to the agenda of his principal, President Muhammadu Buhari, and his belief in his country, Nigeria. Mallam was humble and loyal to a fault.
What was more shocking was the avalanche of eulogies that kept coming after his death, from all angles and divides, including many people that facilitated his inference. They are all scrambling to rewrite the history of the demon they made Nigerians believe he was; suddenly a good man fell clean from the moon.
Even though I can understand our culture discourages speaking ill of the dead, there is no justification in keeping quiet when your friend was helplessly in a barrage of attacks, even if he had asked you not to. In a moment, you regain your voices when he’s no longer there to contribute to his exact side of the story.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends” – Martin Luther King, Jr.
Malam’s death should be an opportunity for us to reflect inward that death has no respect for position, status or age. No one can live forever; No one is promised tomorrow.
For many of us that Abba Kyari was sold to as the one holding us at the jugular by the same people today sending their cocktails of accolades, the man’s journey ended prematurely. And those who are spewing hatred, gloating over his death, and spiting with unfazed bitterness should always remember and be wary of their own mortality. Every one shall die one day.
Good night, Malam Abba Kyari. May the Almighty Allah accept you as pious. May Allah bless and comfort the family he left behind.
Adieu, Malam.
Labo writes via
labomubarak@gmail.com