The day I collapsed in my own office and told nobody

Wallahi I was sitting on the floor of my office in Kano for like 20 minutes before I could stand up. The room was spinning small. I had not eaten since morning, just tea and phone calls. My staff thought I was in a meeting.

I grew up watching my father do this. He would leave the house before Fajr and come back when we don finish eating. My mother would keep his food covered and he would say he is not hungry. The man was not fine, he was just quiet about it. I used to think that was strength. Now I know it was just a habit of not counting yourself.

That day I sat there and heard his voice in my head saying 'rankadede, you are not a machine.' I went home early. My daughter asked why I came back when the sun was still up. I did not have answer for her. What is the point of building something that is killing the person building it?