10/23/2026
How do you say goodbye to someone who has been part of your story since childhood? Jeriant David, I never imagined our beautiful memories would one day become a tribute.
Where do I even begin to tell our story?
Jeriant and I practically grew up together. I cannot even remember how old we were when our parents started living in the same compound. Our parents came from the same village, we spoke the same language, and we became so close that many people thought we were cousins.
But honestly, we were more than friends. We were family.
From Sunday school to Girls' Brigade, from our childhood adventures to singing together in Rohi band, our lives were woven together through so many beautiful memories.
Jeriant sang soprano, and I sang alto.
We worshipped together, attended concerts together, visited one another, went to church and Jos Singles Forum together, laughed together, and created memories I never imagined I would one day be remembering through tears.
And when I got married, she was right there, standing beside me as one of my bridesmaids. She was part of one of the happiest days of my life.
Now, here I am, struggling to find the words to say goodbye.
But let me tell you about my Jeriant!
If you knew Jerianth, you knew that smile!
Always smiling. Always cheerful. Always looking beautiful!
I am sitting here trying to remember one single misunderstanding I ever had with her, and honestly, I cannot think of any.
I don't remember ever seeing her angry. That was Jerianth for you. Such a beautiful, jolly soul who carried so much warmth wherever she went.
And please, let's talk about her dressing!
Jeriant could DRESS!!!
We grew up in a very humble neighborhood, but if you saw Jerianth stepping out, you would think she was an ambassador's daughter!
Always looking classy, elegant, and beautifully put together. You would never imagine where this fine girl was coming from!
I can still remember how our friend Wali Lois Frederick would tease her:
"Gan wanka ki kaman 'yar Rayfield, ba san wai sai an tsallake gutter Jenta kamin a shiga gidan ku ba!"
Meaning, "Look at how beautifully dressed you are, like a girl from Rayfield! Nobody would ever know that someone has to cross Jenta's gutters before entering your house!"
Oh, Jeriant!
Even remembering those jokes is making me smile through my tears.
We may not have had everything growing up, but we had friendship, laughter, music, church, and beautiful memories.
And Jeriant was one of those people who made those memories so special.
I remember your struggles with asthma growing up. And you know us now, instead of even feeling sorry for you, we would jokingly tease you:
"Kin fito da ciwon masu kuΙi a ina?"
"Where did you get rich people's sickness from?"
Because in our little minds back then, asthma was a sickness for rich people, and here we were, growing up in our humble neighborhood!
Oh, Jeriant! I can almost picture your beautiful, smiling face as I remember those days.
I remember how you managed it, the medications you took, and even those garlic mixtures you would prepare.
It was just something we knew about you as we grew up together. We teased you, we laughed, and life went on.
But Jeriant, who would have thought?
Who would have imagined that the same asthma we used to joke about as children would one day be part of the heartbreaking news of your passing?
I keep thinking about the years we shared, the songs we sang, the concerts, the laughter, the visits, and all those little moments that seemed so ordinary back then.
If only we knew how precious those ordinary moments would become. π
Life took us in different directions. We grew older, moved to different places, became busy with life, and somehow assumed there would always be another opportunity to reconnect.
But life is so fragile.
If only we knew which goodbye would be our last.
Who would have thought that the little girls who grew up in the same compound, attended the same Sunday school, marched in Girls' Brigade, and sang together would one day be separated by death?
Jeriant, I wish this was one of those posts where I could tag you, tease you about your dressing, and laugh with you in the comments.
But instead, I am writing a tribute.
How did we get here?
How does someone who has been part of your story for almost your entire life suddenly become a memory?
My beautiful Jeriant, my soprano singer, my childhood sister, my ever-smiling fashion queen
Thank you for the friendship, the laughter, the music, and the beautiful years we shared.
Thank you for being part of my childhood, my youth, my musical journey, and even my wedding memories.
You will always be part of my story, one of those beautiful memories of home that distance, time, and even death can never erase.
I will always remember your smile.
I will always remember your beautiful voice.
And I will always remember how you carried yourself with so much grace and elegance, regardless of where we came from.
May God comfort your family and everyone whose life you touched.
Rest peacefully, my beautiful Jeriant.
Until we meet again, keep singing with the angels.
Some friendships don't end with goodbye. They live forever in the memories we carry. π
