The Cook of My Food

Alphan died November 23rd. He was 27 years old. On December 13th his son was born.In a lot of ways this story is typical for sub-Saharan Africa. Tragic ways, distressing ways...
Alphan was my friend. Yes I paid him to cook food that he bought for me in the markets of Mwanza. In Swahili you do not have a cook but you pay someone to be the cook of your food.
I discovered that Alphan died because someone sent a text to my Tanzanian cell phone that a physician colleague is using in Dar this month. In addition to the announcement of Alphan's death was another missed message. This one was from Alphan. It said' "Please call me." I knew he had been ill but when I last saw him a week before his death he was supposed to be improving.
Alphan cared. His work reflected his commitment to excellence. He was intellectually curious, reading my books, going to school in the evenings. He was funny and his smile came easily and was luminous. He was a good man.
I am so sad to lose him.