Taju Abdulraheem: Humble Entry, Triumphant Written by Kabiru Mato
June 2nd, 2009Taju Abdulraheem: Humble Entry, Triumphant
Written by Kabiru Mato, PhD
Saturday, 30 May 2009 20:24
This is the story of a great friend, Tajudeen Abulraheem, who passed away on Sunday, May 24, 2009, in faraway Nairobi on his way to Jomo Kenyatta Airport to catch a flight to Kigali, Rwanda. The death was reported to us with a bang, not because we are not used to losing our dear ones but more so because Taju, as he was fondly called, was vibrant and his brains were certainly at the peak of the creation and recreation of ideas for the betterment of mankind at the time of his demise.At the Abuja airport on Tuesday morning, along with friends while waiting for Taju’s body to arrive from Nairobi via Lagos, we pondered over the reality that life expectancy of a Nigerian man is 49 years. Our lamentation was that we thought that is the reality with mainly the rural folks who are uneducated in the western sense and therefore bitten by the ravages of poverty and underdevelopment.The death of Tajudeen is really a great loss to humanity because of the depth of his thoughts for the development of the human person. Throughout his life, despite his intellectual prowess which would have fetched him the best jobs anywhere in the world, he rather preferred and remained within the informal circles and arenas where the focus has been on the uplift of human standards and integrity.As the secretary-general of the Pan-African Organisation in Kampala Uganda, Dr Abdulraheem laboured so hard to see the possibilities of the integration of the continent of Africa – a dream which several other leaders at the point of independence thought was possible to actualize and which is, at the moment, being revisited by some and heavily resisted by some other leaders on the continent. I have always known Taju from his debut in the early 1980s, but the reality of how close we became was in the last 10 years. I heard the name several times, especially when brilliant political scientists were mentioned. He was one among the very few in Nigerian universities that ever scored a first-class degree in Political Science. This we know, by all measure, is an exceptional achievement because it is what very few of them have been able to achieve.As a scholar, his involvement in pro-democracy activism pitched him against the government of General Abacha, maybe because he was seen as one of the very vocal Nigerians in Diaspora who were well-connected with the international media and was reasonably listened to and read through his commentaries on radio, television and the columns that he wrote in several other newspapers across Africa and the world.When I realised that Taju was a columnist with about 12 different newspapers across the world, I was only humbled the more because I thought I was doing something extra by writing for only two Nigerian newspapers. Taju was writing for one paper in Nigeria, two in Kenya, two in Uganda, three in South Africa and several others across the UK and America, thus contributing immensely to the dispensation of knowledge in the continent of Africa in general and Nigeria in particular.Anytime I was with Taju – and I did tell him on several occasions – I was fascinated by the degree and quantum energy that the gentleman was made of. He was as strong as he was vibrant, always on top of the situation and at the top of his voice. You would always hear his voice towering over all other persons’ else in either at social or even intellectual meeting.No doubt, the world of activism and civil society especially will miss Dr Abdulraheem for this energy, intellect, motivation and intellectual zeal with which he pursued all businesses of life. His common catch-phrases were “Forward ever, backward never”; “Don’t agonise, organise”. These simply define the character very aptly. He was moving and forward always until death came at a time when he was at the peak of service to humanity.A few years ago at a function in Abuja where I sat next to him, some thoughts which I thought were by the way struck me when Dr Abdulraheem was making some analyses that were brilliant on certain issues of discourse and I became so fascinated and took a closer look at him, and immediately wondered what would happen if God suddenly withdrew this brain from us.I immediately removed myself from that mood of thought, but the meaning of my thinking was reflected basically in the inability to transfer brains from one person to the other. The thought, as I did say, went away immediately only to resurface early morning Monday when Salihu Lukman’s call came in with the news of the passing away of Taju.A couple of times while at home in Nigeria, Dr Abdulraheem came in with quite a few friends who went with us to the university in Gwagwalada and spoke on several areas of interest regarding Africa and its international relations. During the visits, Taju had established friendships with young people who have since seen a model to emulate. A great guy that he was, he was equally a hard worker. He was a good friend, trusted fellow and an example of humility in success.When Taju was born in 1961, he came in humbly, but by the time he was going back to mother earth on Tuesday, May 26, 2009, it was a triumphant exit even by the testimonies of the number of people who attended his funeral prayer and took him to the grave. A friend murmured in shock, “Kabir, can any of those looters called leaders really have this much affection in death?” I don’t know, but what I do know is that my friend, our friend who didn’t labor for material cash and position of arrogance, who served humanity in local and international dimensions was cheered to his grave by tens of thousands of people in his native Funtua. The pains of the loss of Taju were visible on the faces of these teaming numbers who lost a great pillar and member of their community, who through sheer hard work and perseverance showed the way.Taju once pondered about the behaviour of friends we grew up with who find themselves in positions of political authority and power. He bemoaned why they stayed away and became incommunicado. His position was, “They don’t know that they need us, we don’t need them.” This is the truth and that is Taju for you. Reading through the tributes written by great scholars like Mahmud Mamdani, Okello Ocui and Jibrin Ibrahim, the magnitude of the loss even becomes more daunting. Certainly, one of the few things that mortals have yet failed to unravel is death and how, when and where it comes. For us living, the loss of Taju was a shock that we have continued to make do with till our death come knocking.Born in humility, he lived a life of service, died on the line of duty and was buried triumphantly – reminiscent of how great kings cherished and loved by their people are sent off. For Tajudeen Abdulraheem, it was a life well spent. May God forgive his sins and reward him with everlasting peace. Adieu Taju, till we meet to part no more.
