Art and Culture

By Dahiru Kasimu Adamu

Ahead of Argungu International fishing and cultural festival which was scheduled to hold from 11 February to 14 February 2025 we take a look of some tourist centers to visit in the ancient town of Kabawan Kanta.

Argungu International fishing and cultural festival is a unique  global event previously celebrates annually, it rooted in the pursuit of peace and unity. This extraordinary event showcases the rich historical legacy of the Kabawan Kanta and preserves the invaluable cultural heritage of the Kabawa people.

More than a festival, Argungu is a world-renowned tourism destination, significantly contributing to the socio-economic development of the town, Kebbi State and Nigeria as a whole.

Most people don’t know that, beside the famous fishing festival, there are so many colorful cultural and traditional activities, which are observed concurrently, during the same period. Some of  these activities which are attached to the festival include, 

1. Traditional Boxing, 
2. Durbar, Horse Racing,
3. Motor Rally,
4. Kabanci Display,
5. The Grand Fishing Competition and many more.

Apart from the series activities of the festival, visitors also would have opportunities to visit historical and tourist centers of the town such as; the famous Kanta Museum.

Kanta Museum, is a Historical and cultural Center, which was the Emirs palace between 1831 and 1940, but it was converted to a Museum in 1942 after the European colonialists built the new Emir Palace in Tudun Wada Area of the ancient town of Argungu during the reign of Muhammed Sani.

Since then, the place has been a tourist center for many years. It showcases the true meaning of diversity with different cultures and histories of the Kabawan Kanta on display. It was named after Muhammed Kanta, who founded the Kebbi Kingdom in 1515. The Museum boasts a collation of historical artifacts and a testament to the ancient architectural beauty of the people.

It has eleven sections and contains historical and cultural elements related to the Kabawa and their history, which include the Royal Palace, then the Cultural section, the people and their religion section, the traditional crafts and the music section, the antiques section, a section dedicated to Surame, the first settlement of the Kabi Kingdom, war equipment, (such as spears, swords, woods, stones, bows and arrows and even drums on display) fishing tools section, amongst others.

Many people, including students from different schools and neighboring countries visit the museum at all times, for different purposes including educational and cultural research, although during the festive season about five to seven hundred people visit the Museum a day.

The Matanfada River

Matanfada river is a very special stage of the famous Argungu Fishing Festival competition. Over five hundreds fishermen storm the river for fishing competition. Visiting the river and the scenario give a deeper appreciation of its cultural and historical importance.

Another river site is the Mala River, which is another significant tributary in the Argungu. It forms part of the fertile river system that feeds the farmlands and fishing grounds of Argungu and its stage of Kabanci display.

The Argungu Bridge:

It is a prominent bridge that crosses the river connecting local governments of Argungu Emirate and also a route to Niger republic. It is a central landmark and a prime viewing spot for spectators during the fishing festival, offering a vantage point over the competitions. If you have a chance to be there during the event, try and climb the bridge!

The Argungu Fadama Land is a vast fadama land, which is nourished by the rivers. It is exceptionally fertile and crucial for agricultural activities, producing crops like rice, vegetables and many others, supporting the local economy of the residents.

The Emir’s Palace: Argungu Emir palace which is also known as Kanta Palace is located at Tudun wada Area of Argungu. The palace is the seat of the Emir of Argungu, the overall constituted authority of the Emirate. The palace also showcases historical and administrative system of government of the Kabawa, and it’s many sections reflecting living heritage of the Kabawan Kanta.

For equestrian culture, the Horse Racing Course roars to life during the festival and NSK Polo Ranch hosts the Polo tournaments and fates illustrating the horse sporting in the region.

There are 7 historical gates in Argungu and all are connected to the history and culture of the town, this gates are; Kofar Maicibi, Sagware, Kofar Tudu, Kofar Mala, Kofar Marina, Kofar Dankoji and Kofar tsohi.

Some of the gates such as Kofar Maichibi, Kofar Tudu had been rehabilitated and they serve as a symbolic of Argungu’s past history, marking and signifying old boundaries and stories of the community, its trade, strength and defense.

All these locations are interconnected elements of Argungu’s geography and culture and they are stages for a major cultural event contributing greatly to the socio-cultural development of Kebbi State and Nigeria at large.

See you there, and you will surely thank me for what you get.

By Harajana Umar Ragada

The offer felt like a golden ticket. A celebrated Nigerian celebrity was hosting a festival and needed a spoken word documentary. For a talented artist in Northern Nigeria, this was the sought-after break, a chance to step into a national spotlight reserved for the chosen few. She believed in her craft, and she said yes.

The project was defined: two videos, one in Hausa, one in English, featuring her voice and her performance. She submitted her fees, a fair reflection of her skill. The project manager’s reassurance was smooth, hinging on the host’s lofty reputation. “Trust the process,” she was told. And so, she did.

She requested an advance to book studio time. A partial payment was made to her, but it was insufficient and did not cover Abuja’s professional studio rates. She dipped into her own resources to make it work. When the video shoot approached, another surprise: she was to supply her own costume due to “budget constraints.” Professional to her core, she invested in the perfect attire, believing her dedication would be honoured.

Then, the turnaround. After she sent the final recordings, she was called upon that the celebrity’s sister would headline the Hausa version. Her role was being reduced to just the English piece. She objected firmly; this was not their agreement, and her payment was still pending. After tense negotiations, a new, fragile deal was struck: she would be credited as a collaborator, and nothing would be posted without her approval.

On a sunny afternoon, they summoned her to the Art and Craft Village for the shoot. When she arrived, she found them already filming the sister. When she reminded them of their terms, the promises flowed anew: payment after filming, glowing accolades, and the full weight of the celebrity’s influence to boost her career. Placing her trust in that stature one more time, she completed the work.

What followed was a masterclass in creative exploitation. They chipped away at her agreed rate, pleading budgetary limitations. They sold her on a future of unlocked doors and dazzling opportunities, convincing her to accept far less, to trade monetary value for the currency of exposure and credit. She acquiesced, hoping the recognition would be worth it.

Months slipped by without the remaining payment. After persistent appeals, another fraction of the sum arrived. Weary, she let it go, choosing peace over a protracted fight.

Then the video was live. And as she watched, a cold realisation settled in. Every name was listed in the credits… except hers. Her voice filled the piece, but she had been erased completely. Not a mention, not a link, not a trace. The feeling was a hollow mix of betrayal and devaluation; she had been used and then discarded.

This story is not a solitary lament. It is the shared refrain of countless creatives. Like Abdulmajid Gambo Danbaba, a poet from Katsina, who discovered his deeply personal poem “I am Me,” born of his childhood struggles, and proudly posted it on another man’s Facebook page, claiming it as his own. The confrontation was messy, requiring the threat of legal action to force an apology and a takedown.

These are the everyday hazards in the digital marketplace of ideas, where work is copied, credit is stolen, and promises are broken. So, what can be done?

Navigating the Minefield: Wisdom from the Frontlines

We turned to experts to demystify the path from vulnerability to empowerment.

Dr. Ismail Bala, a renowned poet and critic, frames the issue clearly. He defines creative exploitation as using another’s work without payment or permission, and plagiarism as outright theft of authorship. His advice is twofold: vigilance and formalisation. “Copyright your work,” he urges. “And move beyond handshake deals. Any collaboration needs a legal contract, however simple.”

The consequences, he notes, are both emotional and economic; a loss of confidence and a loss of livelihood. While social media democratizes sharing, it also facilitates this theft. The remedy, he states, is a cultural shift toward fundamental respect, acknowledging sources and compensating creators fairly.

Muhammed Bello Buhari, a digital rights activist, frames this not as a mere commercial issue but as a human right. “Your creativity is your voice. To steal it is to strip you of your agency and dignity,” he explains. International law protects the moral and material interests of creators, but the systems are often skewed toward those with power and lawyers.

He highlights the legal grey zone that creatives must navigate. “The law protects your specific expression, not the general idea. Someone can mimic your style without crossing a legal line, which is why documentation is your greatest weapon.”

Buhari champions the “paper trail.” Your drafts, timestamped files, and email records become irrefutable proof of ownership. “That version history is your shield,” he says.

MB Buhari recommends a practical toolkit for every creator:

1. Document Everything: Create a “receipt culture.” Save early drafts, note creation dates, and follow up verbal agreements with a confirming email or message.

2. Mark Your Territory: Use the copyright symbol (©) on your work. It’s a simple but clear signal of ownership.

3. Have the “Terms” Talk: Before sharing work, state clearly how it can be used. A simple text message can form a basic contract.

4. Leverage Community and Platforms: Use the court of public opinion respectfully but firmly. Know how to issue a DMCA takedown notice on social platforms to remove stolen content.

5. Embrace Simple Contracts: Outline collaboration terms, ownership, and credit in writing. “A contract is a seatbelt for your creativity,” Buhari notes.

6. Seek Strength in Numbers: Join creative associations and leverage pro-bono legal networks. There is power in collective advocacy.

The Northern Star: A Community’s Victory

The most powerful chapter in this story is its conclusion. When the spoken word artist was erased, she did not stay silent. She shared her story. And the Northern creative community erupted. They became her amplifiers, her defenders, and her unyielding support system. Through poems, posts, and shared outrage, they applied a pressure that no individual could. Faced with this unified front, the celebrity apologised.

This is the ultimate blueprint. The fight against exploitation is not a solo journey. It is fought by building a community that values integrity over influence, that champions credit over “exposure,” and that stands as a united front against those who would diminish their peers. It is about transforming individual vulnerability into collective, unshakeable strength.

Harajana Umar Ragada wrote via kharajnah@gmail.com.

By Salim Yunusa

Art Xplosion 4.0, the youth-focused art and mental health festival organised by Friends Advocacy for Mental Health Initiative (FAM Initiative), concluded in Zaria after a week-long celebration of creativity, resilience, and cultural identity. The event, the first of its kind in the city, marked a major step toward exposing young people to art as a tool for emotional expression, cultural grounding, and mental well-being.

Over 100 children and adolescents participated in the program, which featured bead-making, painting, mosaic art, upcycled crafts, gypsum art, traditional performances, cultural showcases, storytelling, and an art exhibition. Participants were drawn from different communities across Sabon Gari Local Government and beyond, including young people with invisible disabilities and those from underserved socio-economic backgrounds.

For the organisers, Art Xplosion 4.0 was more than an event. It was a statement about the role of creativity in strengthening mental resilience among young people navigating social pressure, identity struggles, and emotional challenges.

Program Manager and Lead Artist Aisha Ahmad Ibrahim said the week-long festival reaffirmed her conviction that art remains one of the most accessible and transformative tools for youth mental health. She said, “Art Xplosion 4.0 was truly a wholesome event for me that reaffirmed that what I do is worthy,” she said. “Despite the hassles and rigorous work I handled as Programs Manager and Lead Artist, I genuinely enjoyed every part of the experience, from preparation and procurement to organising and leading my team. The diversity of participants initially made me sceptical about coordination, but art once again proved to be a natural medium of expression. Healthy children, children and youth with neurological and non-visible disabilities, and those from low academic and socio-economic communities all expressed their artistic abilities beautifully. My team and I moved easily between groups to guide and support them. With about 100 participants from almost all parts of Sabon Gari and beyond, Art Xplosion 4.0 was a deeply fulfilling success.”

Curator Jecinta Egbim described the edition as a powerful testing ground for the resilience strategies she teaches adolescents during mental health outreaches. “This year’s Art Xplosion 4.0 was an entire experience, not just for our participants but for me,” she said. “Going through some of the tests of my own resilience strategies, I have seen that resilience is truly the key. Tools like art, effective communication, emotional regulation, support systems and outlets helped us push through.”

She added that the implementation process itself came with emotional and logistical challenges. “We faced hard times, tough ‘no’s, shut doors, and some interesting stakeholder management issues, but we emerged stronger. One of our biggest successes was simply seeing the week through from start to finish. We received multiple reports from adolescents, parents, school owners, community leaders, and caregivers. Even two days after the event, a mother visited our office with her daughter to thank us. It was humbling to see the impact extend into homes. That was the essence of this year’s edition: Art Xplosion should not just be immersive on-site, but a holistic experience that follows participants into their houses, schools, and workplaces.”

She noted that even with less than 20 sponsors supporting 100 participants, the team stayed committed to impact. “Fundraising was tight and discouraging, but our successes outweighed every challenge. It reminded us of what we are really made of.”

One of the program’s partners, NEST AI, highlighted the deeper emotional significance of art for young people. Its founder, Yazid S. Mika’il, said the initiative reflected how creativity can help youths build confidence and shape their futures. “Art speaks to one’s emotions and the core of being… it helps young people realise that they matter, and can determine what a beautiful and healthy future looks like,” he said.

Poetic Wednesdays Initiative, also a partner, expressed satisfaction with the program’s impact. Founder Salim Yunusa said the organisation was proud to support an initiative that brings creativity and healing into the lives of young people in Northern Nigeria. “We are pleased with what this initiative achieved, especially in Zaria,” he said. “We hope to see more of this replicated across Zaria and northern Nigeria at large.”

The Art Xplosion model uses creative expression to help children and adolescents communicate feelings, build confidence, improve emotional regulation, and reconnect with cultural identity. Many of the participants came from families dealing with psychosocial stressors, developmental challenges, or limited access to creative opportunities.

FAM Initiative reported that participants showed improvements in communication, empathy, and artistic expression. Parents and community leaders also noted that the activities helped their children feel calmer, more expressive, and more connected to their heritage.

This year’s edition introduced an expanded cultural showcase, featuring participants who displayed traditional attire, shared cultural stories, and performed dances. The art exhibition and auction also allowed the public to appreciate the creative output of the young participants.

With Art Xplosion 4.0, Zaria has now hosted its first large-scale festival that blends art, cultural pride, inclusion, and mental health advocacy. Organisers say the program’s success has opened a new chapter for community-driven youth development initiatives in Kaduna State.

FAM Initiative announced that future editions will expand mentorship opportunities, deepen community outreach, and strengthen support structures for children and adolescents dealing with emotional and developmental challenges.

As the dust settles on this year’s event, the organisers say their biggest hope is that the young participants, many of whom are experiencing structured art therapy for the first time, will carry their newfound confidence, skills, and cultural pride into the next chapters of their lives. Art Xplosion, they say, is not just an event. It is becoming a movement for healing, expression, and resilience across Northern Nigeria.

By Nazirah Muhammed,

Before the first note of his debut single, My Time, hit any speaker, Boluwatife Balogun lived in a world deliberately shielded from the glare of celebrity, a rare reality for the firstborn son of Afrobeats icon Ayodeji Ibrahim Balogun, popularly known as Wizkid. To understand his entry into music, you must first appreciate the calm, structured upbringing that shaped him.

Born in 2011, the same year Wizkid’s Superstar album launched him into global recognition, Boluwatife arrived at a moment that reshaped his father’s life. Unlike the public drama that often surrounds celebrity births, his early years were quietly protected. His mother, Shola Ogudu, Wizkid’s former partner and one-time manager, built a bubble of normalcy around him, ensuring that despite his father’s fame, his childhood remained grounded.

Privacy defined Boluwatife’s early life. While fans saw only occasional birthday photos or short videos, Bolu lived what many would consider a normal Lagos childhood. He attended regular schools, played basketball, hung out with friends, and focused on his education. Photos shared over the years showed a cheerful, well-adjusted boy enjoying vacations, milestones, and hobbies far from the spotlight. It was a deliberate effort to let him grow into himself, not into the expectations attached to his surname.

As he got older, one truth became impossible to ignore: Boluwatife is the spitting image of his father. From his eyes to his smile and lean frame, the resemblance earned him the nickname “Wizkid’s twin” among fans. And while Wizkid rarely posts about his children, the love is unmistakable. In a 2020 birthday message, he called Bolu his “twin” and expressed heartfelt affection, a glimpse into a quiet but strong father-son bond.

But beyond the looks, Boluwatife was absorbing another inheritance: music. Growing up around one of the most successful African musicians meant witnessing the creative process up close. The first public hint of his musical journey came in 2023, when his mother shared a video that quickly went viral. It didn’t just show a teenager singing along; it showed Boluwatife in a home studio, headphones on, confidently recording original material.

That clip changed everything. His voice, youthful but melodic and steady, revealed a natural ease with music. It was the moment “Boluwatife the artiste” shifted from speculation to reality.

My Time didn’t appear out of nowhere. It is the product of years spent watching, listening, learning, and quietly preparing. The same boy who hustled on the basketball court and completed assignments is now stepping into the booth with intention. His sheltered upbringing gave him self-awareness; his environment gave him artistry.

His debut marks not just a career launch but the beginning of a new chapter for a young man raised with care, balance, and an understanding of the legacy he represents. The world may just be hearing him now, but Boluwatife Balogun has been getting ready all along.

Nazirah Muhammed is an intern with PRNigeria. She can be reached at nazirahmuhammed01@gmail.com.

By Fatima Badawi

The Department of English and Literary Studies at Bayero University, Kano (BUK), successfully convened a two-day National Conference to critically examine and celebrate the prolific, well-grounded and giant literary works of the literary guru, Professor Aliyu Kamal, one of the Northern Nigeria’s most influential literary figures.

Held at the University’s Main Campus under the theme “Interdisciplinary perspectives on the works of Aliyu Kamal,” the conference attracted a diverse gathering of academics, writers, students, and family members of the prolific English author.

The event served as a significant platform to re-evaluate Kamal’s contributions to Nigerian literature and his unique portrayal of the socio-cultural dynamics of Northern Nigeria, which some view as Islamic genre.

The opening ceremony was chaired by the Vice-Chancellor of Bayero University, Professor Haruna Musa, who was represented by the Deputy Vice Chancellor Research and Development, Professor Amina Abubakar. In his address, the Vice-Chancellor commended the department for its initiative, stating that “Aliyu Kamal’s works are not merely stories; they are cultural archives that document the complexities, the joys, and the challenges of our society. This conference is a vital step in preserving our intellectual heritage, and it will pave way to getting a Nobel Laureate, starting from home.”

The keynote address was delivered by the renowned literary scholar, Professor Sani Abba Aliyu, mni. In a compelling presentation were he maintained that
Kamal possessed an uncanny ability to weave intricate tales that are simultaneously local and can equally be regarded as universal. His characters grapple with issues of modernity, tradition, governance, religion and personal identity in a way that resonates deeply across the Northern Nigerian landscape. He gave a distinct voice to the Northern Nigerian experience, ensuring it was an integral part of the national literary conversation.

Over the course of the conference, multiple lead papers featured presentations from scholars from various universities across the country. Papers explored diverse aspects of Kamal’s oeuvre, including feminist readings of his female characters, post-colonial interpretations of his narratives, stylistic and metaphorical analyses of his use of language, the Islamic genre and the philosophical underpinnings of his themes.

The Head of the Department of English and Literary Studies, Dr. A’isha Umar, in her remarks, described the conference as a resounding success. “Our objective was to ignite a renewed scholarly interest in Aliyu Kamal and to introduce his rich legacy to a new generation of students. We expect an overwhelming participation and the quality of discussions today and in the remaining days of the conference. This is not an end, but a beginning of a more sustained engagement with his works.”

Some of the participants urged that the papers presented should be compiled and published in an edited volume, ensuring that the critical insights generated would contribute to future scholarship on Nigerian literature. The event firmly re-established Aliyu Kamal’s position as a cornerstone of the nation’s literary canon.

The conference is still ongoing and it is expected to finish next Thursday.

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu 

Let me start with a context. It happened on June 27, 2024, Gabon’s Show on YouTube.

“Zarmalulu no work” was an expression uttered by TikTok influencer Sayyada Sadiya Haruna, describing the state of her marriage to another TikToker, Abubakar Ibrahim, a Hausa Rapper based in Kano, northern Nigeria, and known by the stage name G-Fresh Alamin. She used the expression during her interview with Hadiza Aliyu Gabon, a Kannywood (Hausa cinema of northern Nigeria) film actress, in an episode of Gabon’s YouTube Show, “Gabon,” on June 27, 2024. Haruna used the expression to inform Gabon and her viewers that G-Fresh was impotent on their wedding night, using ‘Zarmalulu’ as a social code for his non-performing reproductive organ.   

The expression, which quickly became a meme referring to the male sexual organ and its (dis)abilities, became a trending term in Hausaphone social media counterculture, and G-Fresh, usually full of swagger and macho posturing, was highly ridiculed and his swagger deflated, as it were. In this process, Haruna has provided males with an easy way of explaining their erectile dysfunction to either their partners or their healthcare provider in a less embarrassing and amusing way. The use of the term openly reveals a growing vocabulary of erotic neologisms in Hausa social media and reflects the emergence of what I refer to as Hausa digital counterculture.

This media incidence – which received massive views, significantly improving Gabon’s financial standing – reflects one of the fascinating aspects of language development within the context of media anthropology. I am pretty sure that Margaret Mead, the doyen of cultural anthropologists, would have welcomed social media and its potential in studying digital natives. Safer, too. With the increasing creation of conventional and alternative communities on social media, a new discipline has emerged to enable people to study others without the necessity of being in the same physical space and time with them. So, what exactly is “media anthropology”? 

Media anthropology is the ethnographic and critical study of how media—especially digital and social media—are embedded in the cultural, social, political, and economic lives of people. It is a subfield of anthropology that examines how people create, utilise, interpret, and are influenced by media in their daily lives. It blends the traditional ethnographic methods of anthropology—such as participant observation and in-depth interviews—with the analysis of media technologies and content.

My initial focus was on Hausa literature and its transformations – from physical print to online publishing, then to the film industry – encompassing feature films and distribution through tapes, CDs, DVDs, and YouTube series. I then moved on to music, from griot wordsmiths to rap and hip hop. It was all pretty exciting. Then, social media made its entrance and created multiple new entries into the field. 

As a media anthropologist, I immerse myself in communities—both online and offline—to understand how people engage with digital media. For this study, I focused primarily on Facebook as a social network. Hundreds of communities were created on Facebook—mainly by young people—that discuss a wide range of topics, providing a rich source of data concerning youth subcultures and how social networks offer a subversive template for creating new identities and expressions. 

As I swing from one community to another – using Robert Kozinet’s Netnographic methods – I began to notice a new pattern of language usage among young Hausa online digital natives. Then I started gathering new words and expressions that offer alternative meanings to their conventional ones. For the most part, they tended to be innocuous, while hiding a deeper, often darker meaning, and are essentially communicated to ingroup members of the communities. Quite rapidly enough, some of the words began to take on a new urban lexicon on their own. 

A typical example is “capacity,” an innocuous word that means exactly what it says: maximum production or containment. Yet, digital natives have turned it into “kafasiti” to indicate an urban cool, swagger, ability, capability, “arrived”, etc. The word is now used in multiple forms and contexts to refer to attainment of either distinction or class (“Alaji, wallahi an baza kafasiti a bikin nan”). 

But, then, old words have always had new meanings in Hausaphone urban language use. For instance, “shege” is literally a bastard in Hausa, but recontextualised to mean “an expert” or “outstanding.” “Mugu” (bad) became an adjective for extremities (“mugun kyau”, extreme beauty). “Arne” (pagan) transformed into contemporary “bro” (kai arne, yaya dai/yo, bro, wazzup?). “Kwaro” (insect) translates into a tenacious, usually studious person. For southern Nigerians, “Aboki” is an imagined insult referring to any northerner, whether Hausa or not, rather than “friend,” its actual meaning. 

Hausa digital natives utilise the unconventionality of the social media they inhabit to create neologisms that often reflect hidden, dark, or altered meanings, frequently dealing with in-group lexicons. After trawling through various sites and TikTok videos, I was able to gather approximately 35 neologisms and incorporate them into a paper I am still working on. 

Looking at these digital coinages and the transformation of words, I was struck by the fact that many of them refer to bawdy or sexually suggestive language along the entire sexual preference spectrum. They tend to be more common in social networks (e.g., Facebook, WhatsApp, Telegram, Signal), where interactions are mainly conversational, than in visual social media (e.g., TikTok, Instagram). The reason is that visuality often identifies the person easily, and in Kano, an Islamicate state in northern Nigeria, this could lead to prosecution on moral grounds. On social networking sites, users often use aliases instead of their real names. Such anonymity gives them the freedom to express their thoughts and use these neologisms in their correct grammatical sense. The sentences are meaningful only to in-group members, within or outside the online communities. 

Examples include “Malam Zakari da almajirai biyu”, referring to the male reproductive organs. “Kaya” (load, baggage) referring to trophy (girl, money, etc), “tarkon alƙali” (judge’s trap/jailbait) for pedophilic behaviour, royal rumble (orgy) and murfi (cover) referring to lesbian activity.

As I noted, over 70% of the neologisms in my collection were bawdy and sexually slanted. Their creators chose the anonymity of online communities not only to create new coinages but also to perpetuate them, without any fear of social labelling or prosecution. Some of these words will gradually become part of conventional social usage, along with their attendant meanings. There is no stopping them. Their very existence highlights another way social media is influencing our culture, language, and traditions. 

But, what do you think – good, bad, indifferent? Whatever your feeling, what can we do about it? Hausa is not the only language facing this, though. A recent book by Adam Aleksic, Algospeak: How Social Media Is Transforming the Future of Language” (July 15, 2025), reveals the international nature of this phenomenon through “algorithmic speech”. As the blurb indicates:

“From ‘brainrot’ memes and incel slang to the trend of adding ‘-core’ to different influencer aesthetics, the internet has ushered in an unprecedented linguistic upheaval. We’re entering an entirely new era of etymology, marked by the invisible forces that drive social media algorithms. Thankfully, Algospeak is here to explain. As a professional linguist, Adam Aleksic understands the gravity of language and its use: he knows how it has evolved and changed, how it reflects society, and how, in its everyday usage, we carry centuries of human history on our tongues…New slang phrases emerge and go viral overnight. Accents are shaped or erased on YouTube. Grammatical rules, loopholes, and patterns surface and transform language as we know it. Our interactions, social norms, and habits—both online and in person—shift into something completely different.”

No, I don’t have “eCopy” to Acibilistically share. You gotta buy the original print copy if you are interested in the way in which social media usage transforms contemporary language. I can give you the cover of the book for free, though!

By Habib Sani Galadima

In 2021, I attended the wedding dinner of my friend Jamilu Ibrahim Lawan. I was seated close to the front, on a white plastic chair wrapped in gold fabric. Before me, the table was neatly set: a plate of Jollof rice, definitely not Nigerian, soft meat, and chilled drinks.

Then the emcee began his greeting: “Malam Alhaji Dr. Musa, Hajiya Barrister Halima, distinguished guests…” The crowd responded with approving nods. The roll call was not mere protocol. It was a performance of hierarchy, identity, and cultural choreography; compressed into names.

Last week, I was at another gathering with my brother. We both wore beads, but his was longer and more ornate. I casually called him by his marketplace nickname “Ustaz”. Minutes later, someone suggested he should lead the zuhr prayer. I cannot say the title alone earned him that role, but I am certain it tipped the scale. In Hausa society, a name does not just identify, it calibrates power. Every title is weighed by a specific cultural logic.

Whether it is ‘Malam’, ‘Alhaji’, ‘Ustaz’, ‘Engineer’, or ‘Sarki’, each one signals something; scholarship, pilgrimage, class, inheritance, or even self-promotion. To outsiders, they may sound interchangeable. To insiders, they map power, piety, education, and ambition.

Understanding Hausa titles is not about translating words. It is about interpreting what they signify, how they command trust, confer legitimacy, or inflate status.
Ask a Hausa child who taught them how to read Qur’an, and the answer is often the same: “Malam.” But today, that word travels far beyond the Tsangaya.

Originally from the Arabic ‘mu’allim’, meaning teacher, ‘Malam’ once marked someone rooted in Islamic knowledge, versed in tafsir, guardians of moral clarity, respected in both mosque and marketplace. A ‘Malam’ was more than a scholar. He was a compass.
Now the title is elastic. It applies to schoolteachers, lecturers, civil servants, even radio presenters with confident diction. In classrooms, it confers authority. In markets, it softens tone. Sometimes it is just what you call a man whose name you do not know. And on social media, Malam can shift from respect to ridicule, used to mock someone who parades borrowed wisdom.

This stretch reflects Hausa society’s deep reverence for learning, but also its evolving standards for what counts as knowledge. Malam no longer guarantees scholarship. It signals the appearance of learning, genuine or not.

Still, the word carries weight. It opens doors, commands silence, curates tone. Whether whispered by students or shouted from campaign stages, Malam remains a title that balances between reverence and performance. Between earned wisdom and social display.

Once upon a time, calling someone ‘Alhaji’ or ‘Malam’ was enough. Today, it is Alhaji Engr. (Dr.) Chief Sani, and the wedding card has not even listed his full name yet.
Across Northern Nigeria, title stacking has become a performance of prestige. What began as distinct acknowledgments of religious devotion (Alhaji), scholarly authority (Malam), or traditional office (Waziri, Sarki or Galadima) now mingle with Western academic and professional badges like Pharm., Barr., or Engr. One name carries five honorifics.

How did we go from single titles to full-length prefixes? The answer lies in both competition and code-switching. In a society where jobs are scarce and respect is fiercely guarded, titles become symbolic currency. They signal arrival. They fend off dismissal. A stacked name becomes shorthand for success, even when its credentials are uneven.

But it is more than vanity. Hausa speakers navigate overlapping systems of esteem; Islamic virtue, traditional nobility, colonial bureaucracy, and global credentialism. The title stack tries to contain them all: faith, lineage, modernity, merit, compressed into one string of prefixes.

The cost is semantic overload. At some point, ‘Dr. Alhaji Barr.’ says less about your knowledge than about your insecurity. It clutters public introductions and invites satire, as comedians mimic “Comrade Chief (Dr.) Honourable Mallam Digital Strategist…” to lampoon inflated self-worth.

Still, the inflation persists. Because in a culture where ‘girmamawa’ is armor, each new prefix feels like one more layer of protection.

In Hausa culture, titles matter. But girmamawa (respect) runs deeper.
An old man in a village, never called Alhaji or Malam, may command more silence in a gathering than someone with ten honorifics. Why? Because Hausa society has always known the difference between a name and a reputation.

Titles like Dr., Hajiya, Malam, or Waziri can open doors. They invite polite speech, they soften refusals, they protect ego. But respect is built slowly: through action, humility, and how one treats others when no one is watching.

People admire the man who settles disputes without shouting. The woman who feeds orphans without posting about it. The trader whose word is stronger than a receipt. These are the quiet architects of girmamawa.

The tension is real. A person can be called ‘Alhaji Barrister’ and still be mocked behind their back if they abuse power. On the other hand, someone with no title might be described as ‘mutumin kirki’ (a person of upright character) and be trusted with community secrets or village leadership.

Hausa proverbs capture this wisdom. One says, “A bin da ya fi ado, shi ne hali”, meaning, (character is greater than decoration).

The lesson is simple: titles may impress, but they cannot replace trust.

By Maryam Shehu

In April 2025, the historic city of Zaria, long hailed as Birnin Ilimi (City of Knowledge), witnessed its first-ever Books and Arts Festival, a groundbreaking literary and cultural event curated by a young visionary determined to rekindle the flames of creativity in Northern Nigeria.

Despite its rich academic tradition, Zaria has often left arts, literature, and creativity feeling orphaned, without the nurturing hands they deserve. It takes a persistent muse to find a home in the hearts of the younger generation. To fill this void, in 2022, driven by passion and a deep desire to engage in literary conversations with like-minded individuals, I founded Pen Warriors. It began as a shade tree for emerging voices to be heard and appreciated.

Later, the initiative was rebranded as Bookish Alchemy, with a bookstore arm, Bookish Alchemy Bookstore, whose profits now partially fund our literary programs. Since then, we’ve hosted programs that have reached over 300 individuals, including poetry competitions, a mentorship session with Abduljalal Musa Aliyu, book chats with authors such as Sani Abdulrazak and Aliyu Danladi, serene Silent Book Reading sessions, and intensive August mentorship weekends on spoken word, short story writing, and public speaking.

Toward the end of 2024, the idea of hosting Zaria’s first Books and Arts Festival took hold of me. At first, I was paralysed by thoughts of funding. Some peers warned that such an event would require thousands of dollars I didn’t have. But the idea felt like a child ready to be born–it refused to be ignored.

I assembled a team of six brilliant minds: Halliru Sani Salihu, Abdurrazak Maiwada, Mardiyya Nura, A’isha Ibrahim Ahmad, Sani Abdulrazak, and Hadiza Isyaku Abdulsalam. We dived headfirst into planning, reaching out to guests, drafting sponsorship proposals, and building the foundation from scratch.

With the generous support of organisations like Duniate Culture (Kaduna), Gidan Dabino (Kano), Creative Corner (Kano), Katsina Times, Poetic Wednesday Initiative, Beyond the Pages, and the Bukar Usman Foundation (Abuja)–though none from Zaria itself–Bookish  Alchemy brought the Zazzau Books and Arts Festival (ZABAFEST) to life.

A FESTIVAL IS BORN

To ensure a smooth and enjoyable experience for guests and attendees, Hadiza and Mardiyya coordinated 10 incredible volunteers. Out of sheer love for the arts, Mahmud Jimada, Abdulmumini Yahuza, Abdullahi Abubakar, Maryam Jalo, Khadija, Hauwa, Asma’u, Fatima, Auwal, and Ibrahim took on various roles, including registration, ushering, stage management, and guest welfare.

On April 26–27, 2025, ZABAFEST debuted at the Sultan Muhammad Sa’ad Abubakar Assembly Hall, Barewa College.

“Maryam, how many times have you cried while putting this together? If you haven’t yet, get ready for more,” said Prof. Audee T. Giwa, a day before the festival, as he submitted his book collections, fully aware of the emotional toll such a project could take.

With the theme “Legacy Reimagined,” the dream came to life.

HIGHLIGHTS OF DAY ONE

Day One opened with the presentation of a Lifetime Achievement Award to Alhaji Ado Ahmad Gidan Dabino, actor, author, filmmaker, and cultural icon. The award was presented by Isma’il Bala, author of Ivory Nights, in a moment of reverent celebration.

Prof. Audee T. Giwa delivered a stirring keynote on The Role of Arts in Preserving Our Culture, emphasising how the arts help conserve heritage and foster unity in Nigeria’s diverse landscape.

Next came a rich Hausa panel titled “Ma’abota Al’adu: Muhimmancin Marubutan Hausa wajen Kiyaye Gadon Mu,”moderated by Mal. Abba Abubakar Yakubu, featuring Prof. Ibrahim Malumfashi, Safiyya Jibril Abubakar, and Gidan Dabino. Together, they explored how Hausa literature sustains cultural identity.

The festival’s literary journey was anchored on four key books: Ivory Nights by Isma’il Bala, ZABBA’U by Prof. Audee T. Giwa, An Abundance of Scorpions by Hadiza El-Rufai, Girls and the Silhouette of Form by Star Zahra (who could not attend due to illness)

A captivating book chat on Ivory Nights, moderated by Abduljalal Musa Aliyu, provided readers with an opportunity to engage with the author and ask questions that had lingered since the book’s release.

After lunch, the session Cultural Amnesia: What Happens When We Forget Our Culture? Brought together Sani Abdulrazak, Isma’il Bala, and moderator Ibrahim Ahmed to reflect on the consequences of cultural neglect.

“It looks like a bird entangled in a cage, but it is worth it. It will pay–not now, but definitely. Just endure the pain,” said Gidan Dabino in an emotional aside to me backstage.

The afternoon wrapped up with Ahmad Mubarak Tanimu’s African Literature Quiz. Guests and attendees were grouped and tested on their knowledge of African books, with the winners showcasing impressive literary awareness.

The day closed with the Abubakar Imam Poetry Slam, named after the legendary author of Magana Jari Ce and Tafiya Mabudin Ilimi. Twelve contestants competed under the theme Al’adunmu: A Window to the Past for a ₦200,000 prize. Judged by Namse Udosen, Nasiba Babale, and Abdulbasit Abubakar Adamu, the session left a lasting impression on the hearts of the attendees.

“It wasn’t easy to choose the winners. They came with fire in their words and metaphorized our hearts,” a judge remarked.

DAY TWO: POWER, PEACE, AND POETRY

Day Two welcomed even more guests. The panel Women, Arts, and Activism: Using Creative Expression to Promote Social Justice featured Aisha Lawan Indabawa, Hadiza El-Rufai, and Nana Sule. Their discussion, from creative writing to activism, highlighted the intersections of creativity and impact.

The next session, “The Role of Arts in Conflict Resolution and Peace Building,” moderated by Aliyu Jalal, gathered Sani Muhammad, Salim Yunusa, Nasiba Babale, and Amir Lukman Haruna to explore how poetry and storytelling can serve as tools for healing.

Nasiba Babale also hosted a moving book chat with Hadiza El-Rufai on An Abundance of Scorpions, a novel that follows a woman’s journey through loss and recovery. It was called one of the festival’s most powerful sessions.

Timely and futuristic, the panel on “Ethics of AI-Generated Arts: Authorship, Ownership, and Creativity,” moderated by Mujaheed Aminu Lilo, featured Namse Udosen, Aliyu Danladi, and Ahmad Mubarak Tanimu, sparking debate and insights into emerging creative technologies.

Prof. Giwa’s novella ZABBA’U took the spotlight next, in a discussion with Ahmad Mubarak Tanimu, drawing philosophical and literary insights from the audience.

Later, Husayn Zuguru gave a mesmerising Afrodervish performance, whirling poetry and movement into a dance of spirit and silence.

The final session, The Poetry Garden, featured open mic performances by Abdulbasit, Hidaya, Aisha Indabawa, and other talented poets. It was a closing tribute soaked in metaphor and soul.

MORE THAN A FESTIVAL

ZABAFEST 2025 welcomed over 30 guest speakers from 7 states and more than 300 attendees from 13 states, uniting people from diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds through a shared love for literature and the arts.

“Organising a festival isn’t easy, especially with today’s financial climate, but this is a much-needed initiative in Northern Nigeria,” said Hadiza El-Rufai. “I applaud your efforts and promise our support for future editions.”

For a first-time festival in a city that rarely spotlights the arts, the positive feedback far outweighed the challenges. Attendees left inspired, encouraged, and ready to write new chapters in their own lives.

The next edition of ZABAFEST promises to be even more expansive. It will explore themes such as climate change, digital creativity, and social advocacy and feature voices from across Nigeria and beyond.

We’re just getting started. The journey continues.

Maryam Shehu wrote from Zaria via maryamshehu6354@gmail.com.

By Malam Aminu Wase

Once upon a time, Plateau State was a beacon of peace and prosperity. Nestled in the heart of Nigeria, it was a place where nature, culture, and hospitality came together in perfect harmony. Tourists enjoyed its cool weather, striking landscapes, and vibrant local communities. The Tin City, as Jos was fondly called, bustled with life, creativity, and promise.

But the tragic eruptions of religious and ethnic crises turned that promise into pain. In just a few years, the spirit of unity that defined Plateau faded, and the state began slowly declining economically, socially, and psychologically. What once symbolised Nigeria’s peaceful coexistence became a cautionary tale.

As we reflect on what was lost, we must confront what can still be regained. The nostalgia we feel for those better days is not just sentimental—it is a reminder of what is possible when peace reigns. Plateau’s beauty remains, as does the enduring goodwill of its people. We need a collective recommitment to peace, tolerance, and shared progress.

Let us not be deceived: the divisions that tore through our communities were not inevitable. They were fanned by the greed and political ambition of a few elites, who found power in division. But the people have grown wiser. Today, Plateau has a growing desire to put those dark times behind us and rebuild a society anchored in unity and mutual respect.

The future of Plateau depends on us, ordinary citizens who choose dialogue over conflict, cooperation over suspicion. If we unite sincerely, we can restore trust, attract investment, and lay the foundation for a thriving economy. Peace is not a luxury—it is the bedrock of development.

With stability, there is no limit to what Plateau can achieve. Its tourism potential, agricultural wealth, and strategic location can be leveraged to turn it into a hub of economic activity, perhaps even rivalling global success stories like the UAE, in sha Allah.

Plateau belongs to all of us. It is our shared heritage and responsibility. The time to recover its lost glory is now.

By Abbas Datti

I am worried by the increasing broadcast of music videos featuring women in revealing, indecent dressing by the popular Arewa24 television station. In sum, it has reached a tipping point where women featured in music videos are sometimes half-naked, in a provocative, obscene dressing. 

Considering its audience, Arewa24, whose programming is widely accessible to viewers of all ages, must be subjected to public scrutiny for continuously airing content that contradicts the Hausa culture and traditional values of our society.

Many of these music videos not only portray women in revealing clothing but also promote gestures and themes that are inappropriate for family viewing. The consistent exposure to such content, especially during prime time when children and young adults are most likely to be watching, raises serious questions about Arewa TV’s commitment to ethical broadcasting and social responsibility. Most of those video songs are being shown during prime time.

Our society, rich in religious moral character and cultural pride, has always upheld values that protect the dignity and modesty of individuals, particularly women. The portrayal of women in such a demeaning and objectifying manner is not only an affront to Hausa Fulani’s traditions but also sends the wrong message to younger generations.

We call on the National Broadcasting Commission (NBC) and other censorship regulatory bodies to urgently investigate some content being aired by the Arewa TV station. Strict measures should be taken to ensure that all media platforms operate within the boundaries of decency, respect, and cultural sensitivity. 

Furthermore, there is a pressing need for media houses to adopt self-regulation policies and prioritise programming that promotes positive values and Hausa cultural identity. Our religion and cultural heritage must not be compromised in the name of entertainment.

The time to act is now. Authorities must rise to the occasion and safeguard the moral fabric of the Hausa people from further extinction.

Abbas Datti writes from Kano via abbasdatti448@gmail.com.