Month: September 2025

By Uzair Adam The Kano State Censorship Board has placed an immediate ban on all Islamic singers’ debates across the state unless prior approval is obtained from the board.

According to the board, the move is aimed at ensuring peace, harmony, and compliance among stakeholders in the entertainment and religious sectors.

In a statement signed by the spokesman, Abdullahi Sani Sulaiman, on Tuesday, the board said the decision followed a recent unapproved debate between Usman Maidubun Isa and Shehi Mai Tajul’izzi, describing it as a violation of its operational guidelines.

While inaugurating a fact-finding investigation committee chaired by Malam Isha Abdullahi, Director of Special Duties, the Executive Secretary, Alhaji Abba El-Mustapha, gave a 24-hour ultimatum to the two singers and their moderators to appear before the committee.

The board warned that organizing such debates without official consent contravenes the Kano State Censorship Law and may attract legal consequences.

El-Mustapha reaffirmed the board’s commitment to regulating and supervising the activities of Islamic singers and performers in the state.

He urged the public to remain calm and to support the board by providing useful information that would enhance peace, understanding, and cultural development across Kano State.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Nigerian chef and culinary star Hilda Baci has once again made history, this time earning recognition from Guinness World Records for preparing the largest serving of Nigerian-style jollof rice.

The organisation confirmed the milestone in a post on its official X account, stating:“New record: Largest serving of Nigerian-style jollof rice – 8,780 kg (19,356 lb 9 oz) achieved by Hilda Baci and Gino in Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria.”

The record was set during a high-profile food festival on September 12, 2025, at the Eko Hotels and Suites, Victoria Island, Lagos.

The event, which was themed the Gino World Jollof Festival with Hilda Baci, pulled in a huge crowd and dominated conversations across social media platforms.Baci became an international figure in 2023 after achieving the Guinness World Record for the longest cooking marathon.

Her latest accomplishment has further solidified her position as one of Nigeria’s most celebrated chefs.Prominent figures such as Funke Akindele, Enioluwa Adeoluwa, Tomike Adeoye, and Pastor Idowu were present at the Lagos festival.

Also in attendance was Bamidele Abiodun, wife of the Ogun State Governor, who joined other well-known personalities in supporting Baci’s attempt to secure another global record.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Shock and outrage have trailed the appearance of a notorious militia leader, Babaro, at a government-backed peace dialogue in Faskari Local Government Area on Sunday. The bandit commander, long accused of mass killings and sexual violence, arrived at the meeting heavily armed and in a convoy, alongside his fighters.

Witnesses said Babaro and his gang openly flaunted their weapons, taunted residents, and bragged that “nothing will happen to them” despite years of terrorising communities across Katsina and neighbouring states.

Babaro is accused of carrying out some of the deadliest attacks in the region, including the massacre of more than 50 worshippers during morning prayers at Unguwar Mantau Mosque in August. Survivors say the bloodstains of that slaughter are still visible on the mosque’s walls and floor. He is also alleged to have raped women and girls in front of their families, and, together with fellow warlord Kachalla Isiya Akwashi Garwa, killed an unconfirmed number of people, particularly in the Faskari axis.

In Kankara, Malumfashi, and other parts of Katsina, his name has become synonymous with fear, mass abductions, and relentless bloodshed.

The decision to give Babaro and his fighters a seat at a peace meeting has left victims’ families devastated. Relatives of abducted persons, some of whom attended the dialogue, broke down in tears as they watched the same men who killed their loved ones sit at the negotiating table with impunity.

Amnesty International Nigeria sharply criticised the development, warning that privileging armed groups while silencing victims only deepens injustice.

“The mere notion that it is now acceptable for a group of people in Nigeria to carry arms that are solely used to kill people who are never armed is unbelievable,” said Isa Sanusi, spokesperson of Amnesty International Nigeria. “The assumption that those who are carrying sophisticated arms and decorate themselves with bullet magazines can accept peace or are ready to renounce violence is faulty. Nonsense.”

Sanusi questioned how bandits like Babaro continue to obtain weapons and logistical support while victims are left unprotected, marginalised, and ignored.

The Faskari meeting has reignited anger over the government’s controversial peace overtures to armed groups in the northwest, where thousands of people have been killed, abducted, and displaced in a decade-long wave of violence.

By Usman Muhammad Salihu,

In Nigeria today, the loudest voices belong to politicians, policymakers, and power brokers. They dominate the headlines, flood our timelines, and distract us with promises that rarely survive beyond campaign seasons. Yet, the true story of this country isn’t written in the echo chambers of Abuja or the mansions of Lagos. It is written daily in the struggles, resilience, and quiet innovations of ordinary citizens.

Think about the woman who wakes before dawn to fry bean cakes by the roadside, not only to feed her children but also to put other people’s children on the road to school. Or the young graduate who, tired of waiting for white-collar jobs, starts a small business online and employs three others. These stories rarely make the news. Yet, they are the heartbeat of our nation.

But here’s the tragedy: Contemporary Nigeria seems designed to work against these everyday heroes. Power cuts paralyse small businesses. Inflation, now on food items, erodes family savings before the end of the month. Insecurity forces farmers to abandon their fields and traders to fear the road. Meanwhile, most of the political class remains locked in battles over appointments, power-sharing, and personal interests.

The question is not whether Nigeria has potential; we have repeated that mantra for decades. The real question is, when will we begin to prioritise the citizen above the system?

Imagine a Nigeria where governance shifts from elite negotiations to practical solutions: working schools, safe communities, accessible healthcare, and reliable electricity. That’s not fantasy; it is a choice.

The good news is that despite the odds, Nigerians are not waiting. Communities are solving their own problems. Tech-savvy youths are creating digital markets. Women’s cooperatives are building small savings pools. Farmers are collaborating to beat middlemen. These are the silent revolutions we must amplify, not just the failures of the elite.

If the political class won’t prioritise the citizen, then the media, civil society, and Nigerians themselves must. We must shift the spotlight from what politicians promise to what Nigerians are already doing, because that is how change starts – not from the top, but from the people who refuse to give up.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. One road leads to more political drama, endless debates, and broken promises. The other road leads to a citizen-centred nation where leaders are compelled to serve, not rule.

The choice is ours. But more importantly, the responsibility is theirs.

Usman Muhammad Salihu was among the pioneer fellows of PRNigeria and wrote from Jos, Nigeria. He can be reached via muhammadu5363@gmail.com.

By Anwar Usman

Local communities in the Faskari local government area of Katsina State have entered into negotiations with armed groups, raising fears of a repeat of a sequence whereby the collapse of peace agreements led to renewed violence.

Reports have it that bandit representatives, including figures accused of leading raids and abductions, sat with community leaders at a gathering in Hayin Gada.

The bandits reportedly agreed to stop attacks on villages, allow farmers safe passage, and release abducted persons in exchange for freedom of movement and market access for Fulani and the development of their areas.

In attendance were the notorious kigpin Alero, who spoke on behalf of several armed groups. He said the initiative was “not the first of its kind”, but the turnout was unprecedented.

Also present was Kwashe Garwa, whose name is 19 on Nigeria’s most-wanted terrorists list. Videos shared on multiple local media show Mr Garwa, with ammunition strapped around his waist, condemning the stereotyping of Fulani herders as criminals.

Garwa stated, “In Nigeria, whenever there is a discussion, they call Fulani herders bandits and terrorists. But tell me, which tribe in the world does not have criminals among them? You, Hausawa, who say we are bandits, don’t you also have bandits among you? Yet, no one stereotypes you with such a name.”

Garwa further asserted that killings and kidnappings would not stop until “injustice” against the Fulani was addressed. “There will be no peace if security agencies do not also stop killing our people,” he added.

Reports indicate that similar peace agreements were reached in Jibia and other frontline areas, with residents negotiating directly with bandit leaders for safe passage, a cessation of raids, and the reopening of markets.

Acknowledging the arrangements, Governor Dikko Radda said at the launch of an EU-funded conflict prevention project last week that negotiations were ongoing in several frontline local government areas and credited them with restoring calm in those areas.

By Umar Aboki

The traditional Hausa cap, also known as “Hula,” is recognised for its intricate embroidery and is often worn with traditional Hausa attire. It has a long history in Hausa land, originating as a common and traditional male garment and later evolving into a symbol of cultural, religious, social, and even political status.

Many people associate any man they see wearing a Hula with being a Muslim or Hausa or both. Yusuf Ahmad, a traditional Hausa cap seller, believes that wearing a Hausa cap is a sign that indicates someone is a Hausa man and a Muslim, and that wearing a Hausa cap is what completes a man’s decency. 

Yusuf added that the older generation of Hausa men like to wear tall Hausa caps, while the new generation prefersshorter ones. And when people come to buy caps, they mostly ask for the cheaper and lighter ones; it is the rich men who usually ask for the Zanna-Bukar and other heavier ones.

There are various types of traditional Hausa caps, including “Zanna-Bukar”, “Damanga”, “Zita”, “Maropiyya”, “Zulum” and “mu-haɗu-a-banki”. They are distinguished by factors such as the materials used to make them, their place of origin, the wearers, and their purposes, among other considerations. However, the most popular and widely worn is the “Zanna-Bukar”. Overall, the hula has evolved from being merely a piece of headwear to a symbol of cultural identity and belonging within the Hausa community and beyond. 

Malam Khamilu, a resident of Yahaya Gusau Road, Kano, claims that he wears Hausa caps frequently, especially the Zanna-Bukar. He says it is very special to him and he got his own tailor-made, specially for himself. He also considers his cap a part of his identity as a Hausa-Fulani man and a Muslim.

The Hula is not limited to being worn only within Hausa communities. It is worn by men in many populations in North Africa, East Africa, West Africa, South Asia, and the Middle East.

Zulyadaini Abdullahi Adamu, a Hausa cap knitter and seller, says he wears his Zanna-Bukar or Damanga daily, and he knits the Zanna-Bukar, Damanga and PTF, then sells them at prices ranging from eight thousand to thirty thousand Naira, and that people come to buy them from Jigawa, Maiduguri and other states and places.

Men throughout the African diaspora also wear it. Within the United States and other foreign countries, it has become primarily identified with persons of West African heritage, who wear it to show pride in their culture, history, and religion. Dauda Ibrahim Dachia, a Northern Nigerian staying in Tirana, Albania, claims to wear his traditional Hausa cap overseas, but not all the time. He usually wears it on Fridays, during Eid celebrations, or during cultural events.

It was written in an article by the Centre de l’ldentité et de la culture Africanes titled ‘The Khada Habar: A traditional hat in a Hausa environment’ that “wearing a hat is a mark of respect for oneself, above all, according to Mr. Adéyèmi “when you don’t wear a hat, traditional dress is not complete”, he insists, “it reflects a disconnect between man and his own culture”.

Muhammadu Sa’idu, another resident of Kano, claims to wear the Zanna-Bukar frequently, usually to events. He says that anytime he wears it, people respect him a lot. He also has a ‘Damanga’ but prefers wearing the Zanna-Bukar. In his case, he doesn’t usually associate Hula with the Hausa tradition or Islam.

 Sa’id Salisu Muhammad, a Hausa cap washer at Gaɗon ƙaya, says he wears traditional Hausa caps a lot, especially the Zanna-Bukar. He says that a typical Hausa man always wears the Hula to work, events and other places, so they have to always bring them in for washing. He also notes that people bring in Zanna-Bukar the most, followed by the lighter ones such as the “Maropiyya” and “Zita”.

The Hula also serves as a means for people to fit into Hausa communities, as they are seen as a symbol of identity, and provide a sense of belonging. Musa Abdulrazaq, a young man from Kaduna who studies in Kano, says anytime he is in Kano, a place where the Hausa culture is evident and vibrant, wearing the traditional Hausa cap is very important to him. Although he doesn’t wear it much back at home, he understands that it is a vital part of the culture in Kano, so he regularly wears his Hula to fit in with the people of Kano and feel at home.

However, not everyone from outside the Hausa community feels the need to identify with the Hausa people. Umar Ahmad, a Fulani man who visits Kano but has been staying here for about two years, says he doesn’t wear the traditional Hausa caps. Instead, he maintains his Fulani cap. And when asked, he said he does indeed associate the Hula with Islam and Hausa tradition.

Umar Aboki wrote via umaraboki97@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Dan Kano

I have watched Kano’s civil space rise and fall over the years, and I must confess—what we are living through today is one of the saddest chapters. The silence we now see did not come from bans, threats, or crackdowns. It came from within. Our loudest voices, those who once stood before us as defenders of the people, were in fact working behind the scenes for the then-opposition party that now holds the seat of power.

On the surface, these men and women spoke the language of civil society: accountability, transparency, justice. They attended our town halls, drafted our communiqués, and stood at our press conferences. But as events have now shown, they were playing a double game—working for the citizens in daylight, but aligning their loyalties with politicians in the dark.

Take, for instance, the Kano Civil Society Platform. For years, it was the face of civil society in Kano, leading civil platforms and presenting itself as an independent voice of the people. But what many of us did not see then was that its activism tilted toward the opposition, quietly laying the groundwork for its current role. Today, the head is no longer the watchdog—but a Commissioner, the very voice of government. How can citizens trust that same platform to ever return to the civic space as an independent advocate?

Community Health Research Platform is another example. Highly respected in health advocacy and governance circles, it was perceived as fighting for the welfare of citizens. Yet, its alignment with political interests has now been made clear by its place in the system. The independence we once admired was, in truth, compromised long before official appointment.

And then there is another, Executive Director KAJA (KAYA) KAJA, who once represented the fiercest face of accountability in Kano, known for exposing governance lapses and demanding transparency. Many of us believed it was a shining example of what a watchdog should be. However, today, with KAJA appointed to the government, the fire has been extinguished. The once-vibrant KAJA is quiet, and the citizens who trusted it have been left disillusioned.

Even the Open Government Platform has not been spared. Its co-chair on the civil society side has been appointed to a government committee. This effectively blunts the citizens’ voice in Open Governance Platform processes. The very platform designed to guarantee equal partnership between government and citizens is now lopsided, tilted in favour of those in power.

Networks like Education For All, which once campaigned vigorously for education reforms, now spend their time attending government meetings, collecting transport allowances, and receiving awards from the governor. Independence is gone, credibility eroded.

The tragedy here is not just that these individuals accepted appointments—it is that for years, they masqueraded as neutral actors while quietly serving political interests. Unlike One Commissioner, who publicly and honourably resigned from the civic space before joining politics, these others chose to corrupt the system from within. They played both sides—civil society by day, politics by night.

That is why I ask: how will they return after their tenures? How will they look citizens in the eye and claim once again to be “independent voices”? How will their organisations reclaim trust when their leaders have already betrayed it? For me, and for many others, that trust has been broken.

I do not deny that bringing civic actors into government can strengthen delivery. But when watchdogs pretend to be neutral while secretly serving politicians, it is not inclusion—it is manipulation. The cost is the death of independent scrutiny.

Today, only a few brave individuals, like two Marxists, remain outside the government’s orbit. They continue to speak up, but without funding, their voices are faint. The vibrant, united civic space we once had during the days of SFTAS and FCDO’s PERL and ARC project is gone, fractured by appointments and rewards.

The lesson is clear. Civic leaders who wish to join politics must do so openly, as One Commissioner did. But those who exploit the civic space as a stepping stone to political office only betray the citizens who trusted them. They may enjoy power today, but the day they return to claim the mantle of “civil society” again, the people will not forget.

For me, that is the most tremendous loss—not just of voices, but of trust. And once trust is broken, can the civic space in Kano ever be the same again?

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

Nigerian farmers and food traders have expressed significant concerns over President Bola Tinubu’s recent directive to slash food prices, warning that the policy, while well-intentioned, could inflict serious financial hardship on them.

The order, intended to ease the cost of living for ordinary citizens, has been met with mixed reactions from key players in the agricultural supply chain.

Malam Abba Sani, a farmer from Kano, highlighted the dilemma facing producers.

“We bought our seeds, fertiliser at an expensive price, how then are we supposed to get our money back?” he questioned.

Sani argued that while the policy may seem good to the public, farmers are the ones who will “suffuffer under the new price regime.”

Echoing these concerns, Bashir Madara, the Public Relations Officer of Singer Market—a major food hub in northern Nigeria—stated that traders holding old stock would be the hardest hit.

“Every good Nigerian… will welcome the President’s order,” Madara told newsmen. “But… whenever there’s a price slash, it is very likely that some marketers have products in stock. This will definitely lead to losses.”

Madara noted that many traders have already adapted to economic volatility by avoiding bulk purchases and instead stocking only enough goods to sell in a short period, a strategy that he says will mitigate the severity of the losses.

He advised fellow traders to quickly sell off their existing inventory and appealed to the government to consider the challenges faced by the agricultural sector when implementing policies designed to help consumers.

Despite the potential for losses, Madara conceded that the policy is ultimately “good for the common Nigerian.”

By Amir Abdulazeez

The United Nations is currently holding its 80th General Assembly sessions in New York. Some days earlier, the U.S. State Department, under the pretext of national security and anti-terrorism laws, revoked visas for dozens of Palestinian officials, including President Mahmoud Abbas slated to participate, at the General Assembly and a high-level two-state conference. This move drew criticism from the UN itself, EU and some human rights groups, with calls to relocate Palestinian-related meetings outside New York. This echoes historical precedents, notably the 1988 visa denial to Late Yasser Arafat, which forced the UN to shift one of its sessions to Geneva to allow him participate.

Although the 1947 ‘Headquarters Agreement’ obliges the United States to admit all UN participants, Washington occasionally and selectively invokes security and legal excuses to discriminate between entrants. Such practices explain how the UN’s operations remain vulnerable to U.S. control, thereby undermining its independence, authority and credibility. As the UN marks the 80th anniversary of the ratification of its charter on 24th October 2025, the organization which was founded on the ashes of World War II in 1945 faces an existential crisis of credibility and effectiveness.

While it has achieved notable successes in humanitarian aid, educational research and global environmental and health initiatives, its core mission of maintaining international peace and security has been repeatedly undermined by structural and diplomatic flaws. The organization’s inability to meaningfully respond to crises from Syria to Ukraine and most visibly in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, has exposed fundamental weaknesses that warrant urgent reform. The UN’s record is one of profound paradox: a body designed for action but often defined by its inaction. Nowhere is this impotence more starkly illustrated than in its 70 years’ failure to resolve the Palestinian question or to hold Israel accountable for its international impunities.

From the outset of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the United Nations assumed a central role by proposing the 1947 Partition Plan, which sought to establish separate independent states for both parties. Although initially conceived as a potential path to peace, the plan was never enforced and the UN has since struggled to translate its own decisions into reality. Further failures are documented in a paper trail of unimplemented resolutions: Security Council Resolution 242 (1967) called for Israel’s withdrawal from territories occupied during the Six-Day War; Resolution 338 (1973) and countless subsequent resolutions reaffirmed this demand that was not only ignored but instead empowered Israel’s massive expansion of illegal settlements.

Beyond the unimplemented resolutions, a critical UN failure in this regard is that of narrative framing. It has been unable to consistently enforce a foundational principle: that the right to self-determination for one people (Israelis) cannot be predicated on the denial of that same right to another (Palestinians). The organization’s various bodies often treat the conflict as a symmetrical dispute between two equal parties, rather than an asymmetrical struggle between a nuclear-armed occupying power and a stateless, occupied population living under a brutal blockade.

The core of the UN’s ineffectiveness lies in the flawed decision-making structure of its Security Council, where the five permanent members (United States, Russia, China, France and United Kingdom) hold the autocratic privilege of veto power. This system of outdated World War II geopolitics has frequently paralyzed the organization in hours of need. Since 1946, the veto has been selfishly exercised about 300 times. Between 2011 and 2023, Russia and China blocked 16 resolutions on Syria, enabling the Assad regime’s brutal campaign against civilians. The United States, meanwhile, has used its veto more than 50 times to shield Israel from accountability, making Palestine the single most vetoed issue in UN history. Instead of serving as a platform for global security, the Council has become an arena for shameless and hypocritical power politics.

The General Assembly, despite representing all 193 member states equally, has been relegated to a largely ceremonial role in matters of international peace and security. While the Assembly can pass resolutions by majority vote, these carry no binding legal force and are routinely ignored by powerful nations. The 2012 resolution calling for an arms embargo on Syria passed with 133 votes but had no practical effect, as Russia continued supplying weapons to the Assad government. This has created a two-tiered system where the views of the international majority are systematically subordinated to the interests of Security Council Super Powers.

The selective enforcement of international law has become a defining hallmark of UN impotence. While the organization has at times demonstrated resolve such as coordinating global sanctions against apartheid South Africa in the 1980s or authorizing military intervention in Libya in 2011, its responses to other similar crises have been inconsistent and politically driven. Similarly, the International Criminal Court, often operating with UN support, swiftly indicted leaders of Liberia, Sudan and Libya, yet no Western or allied leaders like George W. Bush or Tony Blair have been held to account for baseless interventions in Iraq, Afghanistan or Yemen. These double standards have eroded the UN’s credibility and moral authority, particularly in the Global South, where it is increasingly viewed as an instrument of Western hegemony.

The UN’s peacekeeping apparatus, while successful in some contexts, has also demonstrated significant limitations when confronting determined state actors. The United Nations Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF) on the Golan Heights and the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) have maintained buffer zones during their operations, but have been powerless to prevent violations by all parties. During the 2006 Lebanon War and subsequent conflicts, these forces could only observe and report violations rather than enforce compliance.

Financial manipulation has emerged as another tool of selective pressure within the UN system. The United States, which contributes 22% of the UN’s regular budget, has repeatedly withheld or threatened to withhold funding to pressure the organization on specific issues. In 2018, the Trump administration cut $285 million from UN peacekeeping operations and reduced contributions to various UN agencies. The UN’s human rights mechanisms face similar challenges of selective application and political manipulation. The Human Rights Council, reformed in 2006 to address criticisms of its predecessor, continues to be influenced by bloc voting and political considerations rather than objective human rights assessments. Countries with questionable human rights records have served on the Council while using their positions to deflect criticism and protect allies.

Critics argue that the UN has become a stage for symbolic debates while real decisions and tangible actions are outsourced to global bullies like the US, less formal coalitions like the NATO and regional actors like the EU. For example, the U.S.-brokered Abraham Accords normalized relations between Israel and several Arab states without addressing core Palestinian concerns while side-lining the UN. Similarly, its response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 was limited to humanitarian aid and symbolic condemnation, as bodies like EU looked more relevant and assertive.

The rise of new global powers and changing geopolitical realities have rendered the UN’s 1945 structure increasingly obsolete. Reform proposals have circulated for decades but have consistently failed due to the resistance of existing power holders. Things have changed since World War II, nations have evolved, others have declined and hence the UN must be reformed to reflect current realities. The permanency of the Security council membership must be reviewed and the senseless veto authority must be abolished or modified along the lines of justice and accountability. As the United Nations approaches its 80th anniversary, the choice is clear: fundamental reform or continued irrelevance.

Maintaining the United Nations system costs about $50–55 billion per year, not counting military deployments and opportunity costs. Beyond money, states commit significant diplomatic, military, humanitarian and bureaucratic resources to maintain their participation. This makes the UN one of the most resource-intensive international organizations ever created. Without serious reforms to address structural inequalities, eliminate veto abuse and restore the primacy of international law over great power politics, the UN risks becoming a historical footnote rather than the cornerstone of the global governance its founders envisioned. The international community must decide whether it will tolerate continued dysfunction or demand the transformative changes necessary to address 21st century challenges.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

The remains of three-year-old Haneefa, the last missing victim of last week’s devastating flood in Tudun Jukun, Zaria, have been recovered, bringing a tragic close to the search operation.

The recovery was confirmed on Sunday, September 14th, by the Nigerian Red Cross Society, Zaria division.

In a statement, official Abdulmumin Adamu said the body was discovered at approximately 11:00am at Gangaren Kasan Killaco in the Gyallesu area.

“This recovery concludes the search and confirms that all the flood victims have now been accounted for,” the statement read.

The fatal incident occurred on Monday, September 8th, after a heavy downpour triggered severe flooding that swept away several children.

The flood claimed the lives of two students: Fatima Sani Danmarke, a student of the School of Basic and Remedial Studies in Funtua, and Yusuf Surajo, known as Abba.

Haneefa, who was being carried on the back of her sister, Fatima, at the time of the disaster, had been missing since.

Her grandfather, Mallam Suleiman of Layin Adamu Mai Aljana, confirmed the recovery, stating he was called around noon on Sunday and informed of the news.

“I rushed home to discover the story is true,” Suleiman said. “We then organized for funeral prayer and subsequent burial of the deceased at about 1pm.”

He added that the family had previously performed Salatul Gaib (prayer for the absent) for Haneefa after Maghrib prayers at the Isa cikon kwami mosque in Magume.

Suleiman expressed gratitude to all who assisted the family during the difficult period.

Haneefa’s father, Sunusi, who was present when the incident occurred but had since left for Umrah, was informed of the recovery.