Don’t Worry, my Son

By: Abdul-Aziz Ali Omer

In a recent published piece of an opinion , my column has been dedicated to my late friend Dr. Kamal Ahmed Musa and since anything I had to say I couldn’t write all of it in a single document, I would like sharing you another part of his story which is also mine. His last encouraging words:” Your life will be better, don’t worry, my son” shall remain as a solace after losing him forever.. Kamal was one of the most competent translators in my own assessment at the level of Sudan. Whenever visiting dignitaries arrived in Gedaref from Ethiopia, he was there as an interpreter and impressed everyone with his linguistic adeptness. At the news stall, he bought several copies of different modern issues of Sudanese Arabic newspapers. He and I used to sum up the reports of Sudan’s afflictions and upheavals that went into the records of SUNA and Sudan vision that were really in a pressing need for the participation of a man in his intellectual caliber with a precocious talent in writing. I knew him as an avid and an omnivorous reader. His readings ranged from politics to English literature, economics, medicine and law. All of these made of him a reliable authority on synonyms and antonyms in disparate fields of knowledge. His personal library included the Russian literature works such as the ” Mother” by Maxim Gorky, ” Peace and War” for Tolstoy, ” Crime and Punishment” by Doestifisky. In his private library, I had a special fondness for the poet Alexander Bushkin. Books were lying conspicuously everywhere on the floors of bed room, kitchen and even at the reception area at his home and his wife turned and steered the deluge of books into three cupboards.
I t is so incredible that Kamal is missing that he just seems invisible or lost somewhere behind those cupboard in his library. Therefore, I want to look for him, to ask him ” Are you human or ghost? To hear his nice laughter as he recalled how one day in teachers Institute ,he shouted ” Yes!” hearing the name of his ill absent classmate in the roll-call. The trainer checking the attendance was skeptical of the intervening voice and asked ” Are you human or specter?’ Kamal laughed saying it was one of the April Fools Lies.
Kamal wasn’t concerned with spurious or deceptive appearance that didn’t interfere with his relations with other people. He didn’t share the affluent their vanity and conceit. When I asked my mother about her impression of Kamal through a fleeting contact, ” He is humble and modest. He likes the traditional costumes “, she answered briefly. In the last meeting between us, he sat on a chair unable to walk but not incapable of extending his hand in a philanthropic gesture . He helped one of the destitute and poor people imploring him to pray for him. Therefore, the best thing I can do now in his memory is raising a hand in a supplication of divine mercy for his soul. May you rest in peace, my friend. You were an ambassador of Good will. Now, while I cross the Gedaref legislative Council street, I see your grandchildren Saad and Linda waving and yelling through the window of a passing rickshaw ” Abdulaziz ! Hello! ” You are somewhere between this world and the next one waiting for the Eden reunion in a paradise as wide as the heavens as earth. The Quran says;” For those who fear the majesty of their lord: two gardens”. We hope to be among their properties and residents. I think that is possible as long as we are infallible to repent and there is kind and forgiving Almighty Allah. Lest I’m blamed for turning a blind eye to the Sudanese bitter reality, I extend my prayer for mercy to the martyrs of Dignity battle . In this regard, I send my speediest wishes of recovery for the wounded compatriots who moan silently. No to war is my favorite slogan. I think cherishing good memories of people we love and our support to peace make us appreciate the values of things.