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<p>Musbahu El Hamza</p><div class="qQtllz4Y" style="clear:both;float:left;width:100%;margin:0 0 20px 0;"><script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

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<p>Do you remember that feeling of meeting your first school teacher after a long time?</p><div class="D6oiRZz1" style="clear:both;float:left;width:100%;margin:0 0 20px 0;"><script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

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<p>This morning, my father, brother, and I went for a condolence visit in Rikkos, Jos, where we unexpectedly met one of my earliest teachers, Mallama Wasila.</p>
<p>I was under 10 years old when she taught us at the Saturday and Sunday school of the College of Arabic and Islamic Studies, Jos.</p>
<p>One of my most vivid memories is her teaching us how to pray Salat in practice—starting from ablution to the Taslim (salutation).</p>
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<p>She dedicated almost an entire term to ensure we mastered every aspect of the prayer, and to this day, wallahi (by Allah) I sometimes envision her demonstrating it as I pray. Wallahi!</p>
<p>She&#8217;s a disciplinarian and a role model. A “no nonsense” type of a teacher.</p>
<p>Mallama Wasila never let her friendship with my mother affect her professionalism. In class, she treated us with the same firmness and fairness as any other student. She was meticulous, punctual, and committed to her teaching.</p>
<p>She&#8217;s always clean and tidy.</p>
<p>She remain a teacher to this day. When we met this morning, she was on her way to school. I will always be grateful for her sacrifices and the impact she’s had on my life.</p>
<p>Allah Ya Æara albarka a rayuwarta. Amin.</p>
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