By: Muhammad Ahmad Musa
From Gidan radio close - Gudu cemetery
24th Rabi'ul-Akhar 1448 = 6th October, 2026
A Hausa–English Tribute of Love, Gratitude and Du'ah.
"انك ميت والمهم وانهم ميتون." سورة الزمر
Indeed, you are to die, and indeed, they are to die" Qur'an Chapter Zumar, verse 30.
There are people whose departure leaves an empty space.
There are others whose departure makes an entire neighbourhood feel different.
And then there are those whose presence has been woven so deeply into our lives that, when they leave, a part of our own history seems to leave with them.
For me, Malam Nafi’u Baba Ahmad was such a person.
For almost a decade, I have lived next to him on our radio close, off Rabah road vicinity.
For more than thirty years, I did not merely have a senior, I had an elder, mentor, teacher, adviser and friend whose presence became part of the rhythm of my life.
Today, I struggle to write about him in the past tense.
Yau, Malam or rather Baba Nafi’u (as we used to address him) ya rasu, ya tafi, ya koma gurin Mahaliccinmu Allah SWT!
But the memories remain.
And perhaps that is one of the ways Allah allows a good person to continue living among those he has touched, through the lessons, kindness and memories he leaves behind.
“Malam, Yaya Baba Nafi'u, Allah jikanka da RahamarSA, Allah sa ka huta cikin Aljannatul-Firdausil a'ala, ka jira zuwanmu, muna hanya?”
One of the things I will never forget is the way Malam Nafi’u always asked after my father.
My father is 101 years old, older than Malam Nafi’u himself, and whenever we met, Malam Nafi’u would ask about his health and wellbeing.
It was never an empty question.
It was the concern of an elder for another elder.
At one point, he gave my father two neck-support pillows as gifts, simply because he wanted him to be more comfortable.
This morning, when I told my father:
«“Baba, Malam Nafi’u, wanda ya baka abun sakawa a wuya dinnan ya rasu, he is no longer in this world, ya rasu da safennan!.”»
My father cried.
Not just tears.
He cried with a heavy, painful sound.
I intentionally did that to guage his response and his crying confirm he is still very responsive because these days he seems to be too quiet.
And in that moment, despite his age, we realised something deeply touching: he still remembered Malam Baba Nafi'u.
He remembered the man.
He remembered the kindness.
He remembered the gifts.
That moment broke my heart.
Because it reminded me that kindness does not expire.
Sometimes a simple act of kindness given some months ago, remains buried in the heart until the day someone tells you:
“The person who showed you that kindness is no longer here.”
A MENTOR WHO TAUGHT THROUGH STORIES.
Malam Nafi’u had a special way of teaching me.
He did not always sit down and say, “Let me teach you this.”
Sometimes he simply told me a story.
A story about someone.
A story about life.
A story about human nature.
A story about faith.
And after the story, there was always something to take away.
Darussan rayuwa suna nan cikin labarai. Labarai masu nausarwa, masu hannunka mai sanda.
There was always a lesson hidden somewhere between his words.
I learnt to listen beyond the story.
I learnt to ask myself:
“Me Malam yake so in fahimta daga wannan?”
That was his style of mentorship.
He did not always give you the answer.
He gave you the wisdom with which to find the answer yourself.
And that is the kind of teacher whose lessons stay with you.
THE BOOK, THE WILL AND THE LEGACY
I remember discussing with him his book on Islamic Will.
We spoke about the importance of making Muslims understand the Islamic guidance concerning wills and encouraging people to update and properly document their wills before their deaths.
I suggested that the book should be digitised, so that its teachings could travel beyond the people who could physically obtain or read the book.
The idea was simple:
If knowledge is beneficial, let technology carry it further.
Today, after his passing, that conversation means even more to me.
It's in his will that he should be buried wherever he dies. His will actualized by the family, alhamdulillah we all gathered at Abuja for the burial.
Perhaps one of the greatest ways we can honour scholars is not merely by remembering their names, but by helping beneficial knowledge they cared about to reach another generation.
May Allah make every beneficial knowledge he taught me and others be preserved as a continuing source of reward for him.
THE MASJID
Then there was our neighbourhood Masjid, the radio close Masjid and Islamiyyah.
Malam Nafi’u, after briefing him of our last meeting where we discussed the future of the Masjid, he encouraged me to team up and continue taking care of the Masjid.
He understood something that many people sometimes forget:
A Masjid is not only a building. It is an Amanah.
When we decided to begin collecting contributions for the maintenance of the Masjid, I approached him.
And, as I will never forget, he was the first to contribute.
The first.
Before asking others to support the Masjid, he supported it himself. As I write this piece, his deposited contribution before opening the Masjid account is in my custody.
That was Malam Nafi’u.
Ba ya koyarwa da baki kawai, a aikace yake baka tarbiyya.
He did not merely tell others what to do.
He led by example.
THE LAST SALLAH
There is one memory that I believe I will carry to my grave.
One day, Malam Nafi’u asked me to lead the prayer in our neighbourhood Masjid.
I stood before the congregation and led the Salah.
During my recitation, I recited the Basmala at the beginning of Suratul-Fatihah and the subsequent surahs.
After the prayer, Malam Nafi’u addressed all of us.
He explained that what had been done had a basis in the religion, even though it may not always be practised by others. That was his last time to pray in that Masjid, to the best of my knowledge.
It was an admonition.
It was a lesson.
It was a moment of scholarship.
That would be the last prayer we would share with him in our neighbourhood Masjid.
SubhanAllah!
Sometimes Allah allows us to experience a final moment without telling us that it is final.
We shake someone's hand without knowing it is the last handshake.
We hear someone's voice without knowing it is the last time.
We sit with someone without knowing it is the last sitting.
We pray beside someone without knowing:
“This is the last Salah you will pray together.”
Today, I look back at that prayer differently.
And I thank Allah for it.
Because my last prayer with my mentor ended with a lesson from my mentor, nagode Allah.
OUR LAST CONVERSATION
Our last conversation was about his journey to Egypt for his health.
We spoke about his travels.
We spoke about his wellbeing.
We spoke as neighbours and as people who had known one another for decades.
We did not know we were having our final conversation.
There was no dramatic farewell.
No long goodbye.
Just another conversation between a mentor and his mentee.
And perhaps that is how Allah decreed it.
We do not choose our final goodbye.
Allah chooses it for us.
And when the appointed time comes:
«كُلُّ نَفْسٍ ذَائِقَةُ الْمَوْتِ»
“Every soul shall taste death.”
MALAM, KA BAR MU DA ABIN DA YA FI KUDI
Malam Nafi’u,
You have left us with many things money cannot buy.
You have left us lessons.
You have left us memories.
You have left us knowledge.
You have left us so many examples and narratives.
You have left us good deeds to remember you by and to emulate, in sha ALLAH we will act upon so you get more rewards while away in your peaceful grave in sha ALLAH.
And you have left behind people who can say:
“I benefited from knowing him.”
That is a legacy.
Mutum yana mutuwa, amma abin da ya koyar da kyakkyawan aikinsa suna iya ci gaba da kasantuwa da wanzuwa.
A person dies, but the good he taught and the good he did can continue living.
FROM MY HOME NEXT DOOR TO YOUR HOUSE
For nearly ten years, our homes stood next to each other.
There was only a wall between us.
But today I realise that the distance between two houses is nothing compared with the distance created when Allah calls one of their occupants back to Him.
Your house is still there.
Our Masjid is still there.
The Gidan-Radio close is still there.
Life continues.
But your voice is missing.
Your stories are missing.
Your live-counsel is no longer there.
Your physical presence and always playing with the kids is absent.
And every time I pass by your house, the first house in the close, I will remember:
“This was the home of Malam Nafi’u.”
That memory alone will become and remain a form of companionship.
MY FAREWELL
Malam Nafi’u Baba Ahmad,
Na gode.
JazakAllahu khairan katheeran jazilan for more than thirty years of being part of my life.
Thank you for your concern for my father.
Thank you for the kindness you showed him.
Babana, Mahaifinmu yana gode maka for the two neck supports that today carry a meaning far greater than their material value.
Ina godiya for your stories.
Shukran for your counsel.
Miyetti you for your lessons.
May Allah reward you for encouraging me to continue to care for the Masjid.
ALLAH YA biyaka for being the first to support its maintenance when we began seeking contributions.
JazakAllahu khair for trusting me to lead that fateful prayer.
Thank you for correcting and teaching us with knowledge and wisdom.
Thank you for every conversation whose importance I sometimes understood only afterwards.
Allah Ya saka maka da alherinSa.
May Allah reward you with goodness beyond anything we can give you.
OUR DU'AH FOR YOU
Ya Allah,
Forgive Malam Nafi’u Baba Ahmad.
Have Your Mercy upon him.
Accept his good deeds.
Overlook his shortcomings.
Reward his years of service to Islam, the community, Nigeria and humanity.
Make every beneficial word he taught a Sadaqatul Jariyah for him.
Make every person he guided, every Masjid he supported, every piece of knowledge he transmitted, and every act of kindness he performed to serve as a witness in his favour in the day of resurrection.
Ya Allah, ka haskaka kabarinsa.
Illuminate his grave.
Ya Allah, ka fadada masa kabarinsa yai ta hango aljannah kafin shigarta.
Expand his resting place into paradise.
Ya Allah, ka sanya kabarinsa ya zama lambu daga cikin lambunan Aljannah.
Make his grave a garden from the gardens of Paradise.
Grant him peace in Barzakh.
Grant him companionship with the righteous.
And when the Day comes for us to join him, let the Shahadah be our last wordings, when we are all raised again, raise him among those upon whom You have bestowed Your Mercy.
Ya Allah, ka kai Malam Nafi’u Baba Ahmad Aljannatul Firdausil A'ala.
Ya Rabbal Aalamin.
THE FINAL WORD
Malam Nafi’u,
You were an elder.
You were a mentor.
You were a teacher.
You were a guide.
You were a servant of Islam.
And you were part of the story of my life
Malam Nafi’u, ka tafi lafiya.
Go in peace, my elder.
And until the day Allah reunites us
Barka da Hutu, Malam.
(To the righteous it will be said) "Oh reassured soul, return to your Rabb, well pleased and pleasing, then enter amongst My (righteous) servants and enter My Paradise." (Qur'an Chapter 89, verses 27 to 30)
From your neighbour, mentee and grateful student.
