The sad circumstances of the death of Baba's mother brought our return to Boidie, a village and group of people I absolutely love. Baba called on Monday to say that Kadia was sick, but she got better. Tuesday night I received a text message saying she'd died. She was having pains in her head, that would move to her heart and then to her stomach. After some blood work and IVs, she got better, and then fell ill again. In Muslim fashion, she was burried on Wednesday at 4 PM.
Kadia was Baba's father's 1st wife. She was about 80 years old and a very sweet old woman. In Baba's house growing up, he and his brothers and sisters (those who had Oumou as a Mom) lived with Kadia and Kadia's kids lived with Oumou. It was a sort of way of easing the tensions between the two households because oftentimes co-wives don't get along. So, in most senses, Kadia raised Baba.
Though I only met Kadia once, all of her kids and everyone in Boidie spoke so highly of her. Because I didn't know her well, I feel like I've lost something more than normal. I've lost the opportunity to know the woman who raised my husband and I've missed the opportunity to hear about all of the crazy antics he got into as a kid. I've resolved that after my PC service is finished, I'm going to go to Boidie for about 10 days and just spend time with his brothers, sisters, his mother, and the rest of the village. I'll listen to the stories they have to tell me and parttake in their daily affairs. I really look forward to this.
Kadia - Allah ka nogoyake. Allah ka hine ala. Allah ka da yoro suman. We'll see each other again.
