It was a fine morning when I thought it would be the same usual and boring day when I received an sms saying "...he's gone". We never thought it would end just like that. On the night before I received that cursed sms, my coursemates and I had an MSN conference discussing about our plan to visit him sometime that evening. But we never did.

I was in my first year when we first got to know him. He had to fill in for another lecturer. When he spoke, his voice was very commanding and he had a very weird accent, a mixture of French and Arabic, then we found out that he was from Algeria, so that explained why. If someone asked me at that time what do I think about him, I'd say I'm intimidated by him. Mostly because he looked so terrifyingly intelligent.

And so the next semester we had a class with him. The first day, we all came in early, and so did he. We thought he would be very strict with us, i.e. formal attire must be worn during the class, no one can come in late etc. But soon we found out that we were wrong and his class was the most enjoyable class we ever had. He loved to make jokes. And he loved to appear "serious" while making them. Adding to the laughter, and when we laughed hard, he would smile. Then he would continue his lecture, and all was silent again.

It was in my third year that we heard about the bad news. People were talking about a lecturer who had to wear shades because he lost his eye due to cancer. We were wondering who was the poor soul and still had the courage and strength to come and teach. Our questions were answered when we found out that he was the unfortunate one. He lost his beard, hair, eyebrows and weight due to the chemotherapy sessions. We were all heartbroken.

During my fourth and final year in UMS, we had to choose our own topic and supervisor for our final year project. Seeing this as my chance to get to know him better and also gain as much knowledge as possible from him, I chose his topic. So I began my journey with him as my mentor, and the great teacher who I've learned a lot during that one year. He would come in for our discussions, acting like everything was normal, everything would be OK, everything would be fine, and he would one day be his old self again, free from the disease.

He started to grow some beard back, and we saw that as a good sign that he's recovering. He would give his utmost attention to us, making sure everything was perfect with our thesis, making sure that our grammar is correct like any father would do to his children. I remembered he once said "A lecturer should always keep his students in his mind and his heart, for if one is missing, then he or she would not be a good lecturer." I guess that's why he was loved by everyone. Because he loved us.

Little that we know his signs of "recovery" was only that, signs. He wasn't recovering at all. Back in early 2009, we received a news that he was back in the hospital again due to his sickness. We were amazed that he would still come to our discussions after a few weeks he had to spend in the hospital. We were unsure about his health, and wondering if he did ran away from the hospital just to see us.

When we finally had the courage to ask him about what actually happened that landed him in the hospital, he would smile and told the story like it was not a big deal to him. He told us that if it wasn't because of his wife's ability to steer the car from the passenger's side, they would die. Apparently, while he was driving the car, he suddenly collapsed and fell into unconsciousness. His wife had to steer the car to safety before driving him to the nearest hospital.

So after the incident involving the car, the discussions would go on normally for the rest of the semester. He would tell us on what day he would have an appointment with his doctor, so that he could adjust our meetings. He was very determined to show us the way, to lead us and to guide us through the path. I learned a lot from him during those times. His determination, strength and passion were rare. Until the end, he would come and give us his opinions and share his thoughts. Until the end, he would come and gave us hope.

But just after the semester ended, and so was his time. On that very morning I received the message, I sat down and cried. He waited until the very end. He waited until he was sure that we would be fine. And then he was gone. Al-Fatihah Dr. Harimi Mohamed. You will be missed but not forgotten.