The Light of My Life Has Dimmed – By Ibrahim Yaro D/Tofa
Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un. To Allah we belong, and to Him shall we return. With a heart weighed down by grief and gratitude, I write this tribute to my beloved mother, Hajiya Hafsat Yusuf Alajawa — fondly known as Hajiya Gwaggo. Indeed, the light of my life has dimmed. Every time I looked at Hajiya Gwaggo, I saw love — pure, unconditional, and endless. Her presence radiated warmth and compassion. Whenever I called her, she would tenderly respond, “Iro ne?” — words that always filled me with comfort and belonging. Even Out of Office, Ganduje Remains the Soul of APC — Party Loyalist She was the one who always accepted my excuses before I could even explain them. She found reasons to justify my shortcomings and always made room for understanding, especially when circumstances placed me at a disadvantage. My siblings often teased that I was her favorite — her “best choice.” Perhaps they were right. She treated me with a tenderness beyond description. Yet her love for all her children was deep, equal, and sincere. She would often say: “Sannu Iro, yadda ku ke min, kuma Allah ya sa yayanku su yi muku.” (“Well done, Iro. The way you treat me, may your children treat you the same.”) Those words now live in my heart as a timeless prayer — a mother’s blessing that will never fade. Hajiya Gwaggo was more than a mother; she was my confidant, my comfort, and my protector. Her wisdom guided my path, her prayers shielded me from harm, and her faith in Allah strengthened my own. She lived a life of patience, humility, and grace — embodying the finest virtues of womanhood and motherhood. She gave birth to thirteen children, and by Allah’s will, eleven of us remain to carry forward her legacy of love, discipline, honesty, and compassion. Though she left us with little in material wealth, she blessed us with sacks full of wisdom, good character, and the fear of Allah. Her passing has left a void no one can fill, yet her spirit continues to dwell among us — in our hearts, our prayers, and our memories. One thing that gives me comfort and gratitude is knowing that you left this world fully happy with your children. Based on our discussions with you at your sickbed, I am certain that nothing was left unsaid, and we did everything humanly possible to make you happy. Now, the voice that once said “Iro ne?” has grown silent. The gentle hands that blessed me have returned to their Creator. But even in her absence, her love remains — unseen yet deeply felt. It’s exactly seven days — the darkest seven days of my life. Allah Ya sa kina Aljanna, Hajiya Gwaggo. Sai mun zo. May Almighty Allah forgive her shortcomings, expand her grave, illuminate it with His eternal light, and grant her Aljannatul Firdaus. Amin. Indeed, the light of my life has dimmed — but her prayers will forever shine upon my path.
