By Muhammad Ahmad Iliasu
When Barr. Ammani recommended Hillary Clinton’s Autobiography ‘Living History’ to me back in 2018, I said to myself where could I find it? Because, among others, one thing was certain; books that are authored across the ocean are not easy to find. And if, in the rare case, they are available, a young student like me was most likely priced out of contention.
Then one day, during one of my trekking braggadocios between Kantin Kwari, Bata to Sabon Gari, I stumbled upon an intensely greying old man of modest stature, smiley and incredibly alert and mobile for a man of his age. What pulled my attention to his makeshift shop wasn’t him, but rather the large book carrying the face of Herbert Hoover – USA’s 31st President.
At that time, there were a lot of debates in our Macro class in BUK on Buhari’s Protectionist policy. And with Yanis Varoufakis’s dominance on my bookshelf, how protectionism backfired against Hoover as stated in his ‘Global Minotaur’ became of great interest to me. I didn’t only want to know all about protectionism in the 1930s but the whole lifetime of President Hoover and his administration.
Therefore I stepped to the old man, pointed at the book and asked ‘how much is that one, Baba?’ ‘It’s price is two-thousand five-hundred Naira, boy’ – he replied. I responded ‘what?’ – almost terrified by its incredible cheapness, even though I didn’t have that amount at the time. To which he incredibly remarked ‘if you are truly serious, I will leave it to you at one-thousand seven-hundred Naira’. I laughed and borrowed the money from my boss’s change to settle the payment. I asked him once again ‘do you by any chance have Living History?’ The old man smiled and said ‘That will be Hillary Clinton’s Autobiography. I sold it two days ago. But I have ‘Women in Charge’. He put my curiosity into perspective with that response. Because I didn’t think he would know that instantly. And from then my relationship with him became very close. I admired his familiarity with books, genres and authors. And he became fond of how much I was willing to spend on books.
Interestingly, we never exchanged contacts. I usually stopped by his place anytime my boss sent me to Sabon Gari. And whenever he had a book he knew I’d like, he would keep asking his customers if they knew one big lad from the core metropolis who is crazy about books – I knew that because he asked three people who knew me and passed the message.
Beyond the unbelievable cheapness of his books, what made Alaji Garba special wasn’t his eagerness to sell, but knowing what his customers wanted to buy. He had a way of profiling people’s interest perfectly. For example, anytime he had an autobiography of a famous leader or historical figure he would try his best to see me acquire it. I recall how he kept the biography of Joseph Stalin waiting for weeks even though many wanted to get it ahead of me. Funny enough, I didn’t know who Stalin was at that time. He just believed I would like it. And he was right.
From him I acquired more than 20 biographies of US presidents including those of Washington, Maddison, Jefferson, Lincoln, FDR and Reagan. I first heard about The Bourbons, House of Windsor and The Bolsheviks from him. Better yet, he supplied deep readings on them. I got classics authored by Rousseau, Locke, Homer, Byron, Marx, Calder, Orwell, Dante and Dumas from Alaji Garba.
He introduced me to the artistic savagery of Mario Puzo’s Mafia and the boiling horror of Stephen King. I know Jenni Calder and her father Angus Calder because of Alaji Garba, and thanks to that I know Thomas Carlyle and whoever he mentioned in his analysis of Heroes. I’ve forgotten to mention the book “Heroes” by Jenni which Alaji Garba gave me almost for free, the very book whose analytical dexterity formed the earliest foundation of my ability to conflate history with literature, personality with reality, and what an author seeks to achieve with every detail of his book.
On the afternoon I bought Eisenhower’s biography, Alaji Garba gave me ‘Thirty Centuries of Command’ for free. And beyond acquiring familiarity with the military-industrial complex, the misinformations in the Thirty Centuries of Command on Sultan Muhammad al-Fatih rattled me into reading the history of the Ottoman Empire since Sulayman Shah and Ertugrul up to Lawrence of Arabia and Mustafa Kemal Attaturk.
Indeed, I am nothing without my bookshelf, and my bookshelf would be nothing without Alaji Garba’s heavenly supply. There are five times more books on my shelf that were supplied by Alaji Garba than any other bookseller. And he’s probably only edged by Jakara City on the quantity of my readings supplied. The poor man, whom I truly loved, probably had no idea what he was doing jumping from one shadow to another under a bridge with those small sacks of old treatises. He was probably just trying to put food on his table, unsure of who next will buy, and whether that will be enough to pay the fare home. But he was more than that. And I wish he knew it. I wish he knew how many lives he changed with that materially unrewarding trade. I wish he can get recognition for the volume of knowledge he worked very hard to put into the hands of people who otherwise would never have gotten the chance to get.
I wish he knew how much I loved him and how much I understood his efforts and how much I admired him and his trade. I wish he knew how people like him inspire me to be great despite having no independent ambition to be so, just so that when I tell their story to the people who should’ve known them it will bear some weight. I write, partially, so I could tell the stories that may never be told. And Alaji Garba’s is truly one of a kind. May Allah rest him in His eternal peace. May ‘Iqra’a’ rescues him from the wrath on the day of judgement. For certainly very few have dedicated more to the love of reading.
Muhammad Ahmad Iliyasu is Strategic Communications Officer at the Center for Fiscal Transparency and Public Integrity. He can be reached via his email: Muhada102@gmail.com
