By Husseina Yakubu
Today, October 9, 2024, marks a poignant anniversary – one year since you left us, dear Hassana. It feels like just yesterday we said goodbye. Your memory remains etched in my heart, and every day, I feel the weight of your absence.
You were more than just a twin sister; you were my better half. To our family, you were “Momy,” named after our cherished grandmother, who gave birth to our father. To colleagues, friends, and schoolmates, you were affectionately known as “Hassylove.”
Your passing has left an unfillable void, but your legacy lives on. As Allah reminds us in the Holy Qur’an (29:57), “Every soul shall have a taste of death, in the end to Us shall ye be brought back.” Your memory continues to inspire me, and I find solace in the verses of the Qur’an.
Accepting your passing has been a difficult journey, but I’ve come to surrender to Allah’s will. However, grasping the permanence of your absence remains a challenge. Life without you has been a lonely and traumatic experience.
As a Muslim, I find solace in knowing this world is temporary, and our reunion awaits. I put on a brave face, pretending all is well, but the truth is, I’m struggling. You always saw me as the stronger one, but I confess, it was a facade. Your presence gave me strength; without you, I’m left filling an unfillable void.
We shared more than just a birthday (February 27); we shared a lifetime of memories, laughter, and tears. As twins, we worked together, lived side by side, and you were my best friend, confidante, and partner in every sense. Your understanding of me was unparalleled – one glance, and you knew my thoughts.
Your absence has left an unbearable silence. I miss our late-night conversations, our spontaneous laughter, and our comforting silences. You were more than just a sister; you were my other half.
…Now, I’m left without a safety net, with no one to turn to. The security I felt with you is gone, leaving me feeling isolated and vulnerable. Allah sarki! I miss your guidance, your scolding when I spent too much, and your unwavering support.
You were more than just my sister; you were my better half, my rock, my everything. We shared an unbreakable bond, closer than any other relationship, even with our parents. We were partners in life, navigating its challenges together. Your absence has left an unbearable void.
I remember how people would say, “Hassana is quieter than you,” and it was true. Your patience and understanding were a perfect balance to my eccentricities. You tolerated me, supported me, and stood by me through thick and thin.
Though the heaviness of your passing remains, I must keep moving forward – for you, our late father, and our aged mother. I’ll continue to pretend all is well, even when it’s not. Your legacy lives on in me, and I strive to make you proud.
…Weekends, once filled with laughter and shared chores, now echo with memories. You’d rise early to clean and wash our clothes, calling out to me to join you. I’d often refuse, preferring sleep, but you never complained. You’d wash everything for both of us, selfless as always.
Now, I’m left wondering who will share life’s simple moments with me? Who will be my rock, my partner in every sense?
Your legacy lives on, Hassylove. In your memory, I established Hassy’s Haven Foundation to support cancer patients battling for their lives, just as you did. May this foundation grow, helping others as you helped me and countless others.
May Allah expand your grave and that of our father, granting you both Jannat al-Firdaus. Baba is gone, and Momy Baba is gone, but I find solace in knowing we’ll reunite in paradise, Insha’Allah. Aameen.
Rest in peace, dear Hassylove. Your love, legacy, and memories continue to inspire me.
Husseina is a journalist writes from Kaduna via 0803 457 5695
