When is the right time to die? This is one question that has preoccupied my mind for a long and I still have not got an answer for it.
While growing up in my home town of Ife Olukotun in Yagba East local government of Kogi State, in the early Seventies, I was fond of my maternal family members. This is to an extent that many people both in the country home and Abuja didn’t know I had a paternal family member, even though I happen to be the fondest child of my father.
My mother, who died in 2012, happened to be the first child of the family of my Yeye (grandmother) and my grandfather.Â
My mother was loved by all and sundry in the country home, this was confirmed during her funeral in December 2012. The country home stood still and it was enveloped by tears and cries by both men and women, young and old.
My grandmother, Late Hajiya Fatima-Yusuf Ajibola who had six children, three men and three women, died on January 30, 2024 at a ripe age of 110, leaving behind three children and many grandchildren, great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren.
In December, 2023, my grandmother lost one of her children, Late Alhaji Ghazali Akanbi Ajibola, this sad incident took me to the country home to commemorate and console her. I got home and went straight to see my grandmother, she was sharp and loud in her voice to welcome me, but with tears and emotions. Her mental and cognitive ability was an asset she possessed, which never suggested to anyone that she was older than 70 years of age. She welcomed me with the family’s praise poems and sobs.Â
At this point I pretended I was not listening to her because of her age and the determination to discourage her from crying over the loss of Alh Akanbi. After turning away from her, tears rolled over my cheeks and I needed to support myself with a handkerchief.Â
Expectedly, many women and men had converged in the house, ostensibly to express their condolence to the centenarian. The expectation was to ensure she stabilizes and recover from the shock of a son, who died at about 70 years of age.
After the required 3rd day Fidau Prayer for the late Alhaji Akanbi, I had to return to Abuja, where I work but not after I went to see my Yeye, in her house. While I was with her, bidding her farewell, which ended to be the real farewell. I lost my emotion as she continued her usual prayers for us, her children, grandchildren and people around her.Â
While the prayers were ongoing, both my immediate younger sister, Ramota, who lives in Lagos, who was seated beside her and I sobbed intermittently.Â
Few days later, when I got to Abuja, my uncle, His Royal Highness, Alh. Isiaq Ajibola, who was formerly the Managing director of Daily Trust, called me to inform me of the health condition of my Yeye. It was a case of almost hopelessness.
I picked my phone, called my aunty, who was taking care of my grandmother in the country home. She confirmed what HRH Alh Ajibola had told me. I became so worried and ensured I called them every day to ask about Yeye’s health.Cheering news started coming to me that my grandmother was recovering and had started recognizing people around her.
However, those of us who were close to her had known that she was probably getting close to the end of the road.
Few years ago, my grandmother had requested that she be buried in the family compound, instead of the cemetery, the reason for this, none of us have asked her, till date.
I recall now as I always will that on this fateful day of January 30, 2024, I was around the Central Bank of Nigeria, Headquarters, at about 7.05pm, when I got a call from my aunty, Hajiya Aishat Lasisi. Upon answering the call, I didn’t hesitate to ask her if ouyr darling grandmother is gone and she responded in the affirmative.
I placed a call to HRH, Ajibola, and he confirmed with a voice of complete gratitude to almighty Allah, who gives and takes life.Â
The following morning, we set out for Ife Olukotun, where she died and would be buried. On getting to the town, I headed straight to the house, which was filled to the brim with sympathizers and her acquittances. I headed directly to her room, I saw her lifeless body on the bed, waiting for movement to the point she requested, should be her last home.Â
We prayed and tears uncontrollably rolled down my cheeks. I became the centre of focus for other mourners. Possibly, because I happened to be the first grandchild she had or because of the thought of her last prayer for me on the 26th day of December, 2023.Â
After leaving the room, I found myself crying and sobbing over the passing away of a grandmother, who died at the age of 110 years. I had to ask myself, what is the right time to die? Was I expecting her not to die? Has she not lived long enough?Â
When I remembered that she had seen her children gave birth to their own children and the children gave birth to her great grandchildren and the great grandchildren had started giving birth to great-great grandchildren, I told myself that, it was time for her to take a bow and proceed home to rest in Aljanah Firdous.
Yeye, (My grandmother ) was a mother, a trader, the head of Iwaya (women leader), she was also a rallying point for counselling for both men and women. She was a mentor and a peace lover. She believes in working to earn a living. She exhibited this throughout her lifetime. It was difficult to stop her from trading, the proceeds of which she gives out freely.
Yeye, never stopped being generous, all her offsprings enjoyed financial gifts from her.Â
I remember she always tell me, ‘Take care of your siblings, draw them close to yourself, don’t leave/abandon your brother (in reference to HRH, Alhaji Isiaq Ajibola).
Yeye (Grandma) you will be missed for so many reasons.Â
We pledge that your legacy will be sustained. We will continue to pray that you will be rewarded with Aljanah Firdous.Â