Tribute to My Beloved Better Half, Hassana Mohammed Yakubu, Hassylove
By Hussaina Mohammed Yakubu
It is almost unbelievable that a year has passed since you were committed to earth on October 9, 2023. As I sit down to write this tribute, it feels surreal, my dear twin sister, Hassana, fondly called “Hassylove” by colleagues, friends, and schoolmates. You were “Momy” at home, named after our beloved grandmother, the one who gave birth to our father.
Even though you are no longer here, the memory of you remains vivid and ever-present, and not a day has gone without the profound weight of your absence in my heart.
Allahu Akbar – God is indeed great. “Every soul shall have a taste of death, in the end to Us shall ye be brought back”, the Almighty Allah has always reminded us in the Holy Qur’an chapter 29, verse 57.
Though painful, I have come to accept that this is Allah’s will. It is, however, still hard to fully grasp that you, my better half, is gone forever. Life without you has been a lonely and traumatic journey, but as a Muslim, I know that this world is temporary, and one day, I will join you, whether sooner or later.
I keep smiling, pushing forward, pretending that everything is okay. You always believed I was the stronger one, but today, I must admit it was all a lie. I was never strong; you were the one who gave me strength. Without you, Hassana, I am left trying to fill an emptiness that no one else can understand.
Born on February 27, we shared not only the same birthday but the same journey through life.
We worked together, lived side by side, and you were more than just a sister. You were also my best friend. You understood me in a way no one else could. One look, and you would know exactly what I was thinking.
Now, I am left wondering who will understand my unspoken words and deep pains like you did. ‘Allah sarki’, the one who knew me best is gone.
You were an unstoppable force, a journalist who continued working even from your sick bed. Despite battling cancer for eight solid years, you never gave up. You held on, believing that you would one day overcome, but in the end, it was Allah’s will that triumphed, and His decision is always the final and the best.
In so many ways, you were my rock. You would often call me reckless with money, and you were right. I lacked discipline when it came to spending, but you were the responsible one. I never worried because I always knew that after I ran out of money, I had you. You gave me everything, your ATM number, your app password, and the assurance that I could always depend on you.
But now, there’s no one to fall back to. The safety net I had with you is gone, I have nowhere to turn. There’s no backup, no reserve, no Hassana. I am left to face it all, on my own. Allah sarki! I miss the times when you would scold me for spending too much and help me come back to my senses.
You were not just my sister, but my better half, my support system, my everything. I know there will never be another like you. We were closer to each other than we were to anyone else, even our parents. We were true partners in life, and now, I feel like I’m alone in this vast world.
The heaviness I felt on the day of your passing has never left. But I have to keep moving forward, pretending all is well, for you, for our late father, and for our aged mother. You were always the quieter one; patient and understanding. People used to say, “Hassana is quieter than you,” and they were right. You tolerated all my eccentricities and stood by me no matter what.
On weekends, when it was time to clean or wash our clothes, you were always the one to start early, while I would sleep in, and whenever you called out for me to join you, I often refused, preferring my rest. Yet, you never complained you would wash everything for both of us. Now, who will do that for me? Who will be there to share this simple, precious moments of life?
Your legacy lives on Hassylove. In your memory, I established Hassy’s Haven Foundation to support cancer patients who, like you did, are battling for their lives.
May this foundation continue to grow and help others, just as you helped me and others in ways I will never forget.
May Allah continue to expand your grave, my dear sister, and that of our father. May He grant you both Jannat al-Firdaus. Baba is gone, and Momy Baba is gone. One day, I know we will all be reunited in paradise, Insha’Allah. Aameen.
