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Coming from a regular-simple-common mind of mine, this my note should be very simple to understand. This isn’t probably me saying goodbye because I’m very sure we will meet again and live to be together forever.

My life has spanned from my first few years in Ajegunle without my dad, followed by my most important stint in Zaria with my step mum, to the six months I stayed in Essex road London, down to my life in Kano where I was grossly betrayed by a lover, a friend and my head of department that led to my heart disease, to my years in Abuja where I served the SA to the Vice President with all honesty but got sacked the day he claimed he just found out I was Muslim, and lastly to my trip to Berlin in 2011 after Buhari’s election loss.

I might have helped two people get their degrees, taken care of the woman who threw me in a well when I was 11, memorized the Quran at age 16, and been capable of the effective tafser of the Qur’an. I might fluently speak 4 languages, including Arabic and German, have over 5000 Hadiths committed to memory and all the other achievements in my life but it still feels empty.

I love to be referred to as the teenager that saved the life of a couple hundred ‘weak’ people in the 90s but how do you thank someone you never knew was the one helping you? How do you gratefully refer to a faceless coward putting thousands in people’s pocket without them knowing who it was?

The truth is, I never felt loved. I stopped giving it. I don’t feel I need help and I don’t want to help anybody. I have tried all I could to appreciate the few ‘good’ things around me but I couldn’t feel them enough to honestly appreciate them. I’ve been a very excellent actor in pretending to be happy but I swear with everything that led to my existence I’m tired of pretending to be happy. I’m tired of living. I’m taking off this happy mask because it has corroded my real face. It has eaten up my real face so deep I don’t even recognize me anymore.

The major thing that killed me is my compassion. I truly hate to see people in pain. It kills me. I can never be comfortable in a world where almost every weak person is taken advantage of. I need to be numb till the day I’ll wake up to sleep no more.

I know this is not the solution to my problem. This is not the solution to the problems in the world but I need to leave.

Sanusi… Sanusi.. I’m sorry, son. I don’t have the guts to watch you grow to become a man in this cruel world. I’m going to meet my best friend, your biological father. I’m sorry.

I love you all.

All of you.

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My friend wrote this some years back in a very dark place. He didn’t follow through with his inclinations because he believes he does not own his life. So taking it would be a great debt to his Creator and to his friends (especially Rhaihanah, Makuochi, Karo and Fatima).

Today, a bit more than ever before, I’m thankful to God for adding one year to your life dear friend. May you truly know the God of a second chance.

 

Photo courtesy of KitchenButterfly.