Opinion

By Isyaka Laminu Badamasi 

A few months ago, I wrote about the popular one-way routes in Bauchi metropolis, where I drew the attention of the relevant authorities to the need to address the unethical behaviours of some motorists and other road users who openly violate traffic regulations on our major roads and streets in the metropolis. To my dismay, the situation is worsening by the day. 

On my way to and from the office every day, I usually encounter frightening experiences at this junction, which has become a theatre for traffic violators, accidents, and altercations. People openly, without considering their safety or that of other road users, cross the road, either through a U-turn or a median. This is not peculiar to Keke Napep and Achaba riders, but also applies to cars, lorries, and trucks.

For months, I never witnessed the traffic warders or staff of the Bauchi Road Traffic Agency (BAROTA) working to avert the routine occurrences of road accidents at the junction. I’m not sure if this is another ‘new normal’ in our way of doing things. 

An Achaba rider once informed me that all these were a result of the ongoing flyover construction at the central market roundabout. He added that, “as soon as the project is completed, the traffic violation will be history”. Others believe that a roundabout should be constructed at the junction, as it is for the Bakaro-Shagari and Karofi junctions behind the Bauchi correctional facility. I’m not sure if this is possible.

Whatever the solution may be, I am appealing to the BAROTA, as a matter of public interest, to deploy a special team at the junction for 24-hour surveillance to ensure the safety of people’s lives and properties. Officers of the agency were always seen at the newly constructed Muda Lawal market road and/or under the Wunti flyover, arresting those who parked their vehicles incorrectly and Achaba riders; why is this junction neglected?

Recently, the Chairman, House Committee of Roads and Transport of the Bauchi State House of Assembly, Hon Engr. Garba Adamu engaged officials of the agency to discuss some important issues. I’m not sure if this particular case is part of their discussion.

The media houses should also embark on rigorous sensitisation, thanks to Albarka Radio for taking the lead in this regard. Religious and traditional institutions, as well as youth groups, should also utilise their respective domains in preaching good morals, which include abiding by traffic rules and regulations. All the other places I mentioned in my earlier write-up are still dangerous. The Tashan Babiye and Bayam Bata communities should form a volunteer team to address this lingering issue.

The picture is from the internet.

Isyaka Laminu Badamasi is the Team Lead, Initiatives for Sustainable Development (I4SD).

By Oladoja M.O

“A dive into the political paralysis killing public health”

In the long and winding corridors of Nigeria’s national challenges, the health sector stands as one of the most visibly bruised, chronically neglected, and systemically under-prioritised. Yet, beyond the crumbling hospitals and overworked health workers lies a more insidious diagnosis: politics. Not politics in its ideal form, the noble art of governance, but the brand that manifests in distraction, dereliction, and dead ends. It is this politicisation, or rather, the wrong kind of political influence, that has become the biggest ailment afflicting Nigeria’s health system today. And until it is addressed, no number of policies, international partnerships, or ministerial press briefings will revive the sector to its full potential.

Let’s begin with a case study, a hopeful one that has slowly started to mirror the very problem it tried to solve.

When Dr. Muhammad Ali Pate was appointed Nigeria’s Coordinating Minister of Health and Social Welfare in August 2023, many saw a breath of fresh air. He came armed with credentials, experience, and, perhaps most importantly, energy. Within months, the sector began to stir with renewed ambition.

Under his leadership, Nigeria launched its first Health Sector Renewal Investment Initiative, signed a landmark Sector-Wide Approach (SWAp) compact with states and partners, and injected ₦50 billion into the Basic Healthcare Provision Fund (BHCPF), which was double the amount released in the previous year. Over 2,400 health workers were recruited and deployed across underserved areas. Primary healthcare facilities that had long been mere consulting rooms began to see improvements in personnel and reach. Vaccination efforts soared. 

A nationwide HPV rollout vaccinated nearly 5 million girls, and the long-awaited Oxford R21 malaria vaccine arrived on Nigerian soil. The government pursued a policy to unlock the healthcare value chain, drafting executive orders to encourage local pharmaceutical manufacturing and reduce import dependency. Even the National Health Insurance Authority (NHIA) was repositioned, expanding coverage through the Vulnerable Group Fund, while a national patient safety strategy was launched to bring quality and accountability into focus. All signs pointed to a government that was, finally, taking health seriously. But then, as quickly as the fire had been lit, it began to dim.

But from early 2025, a silence began to creep over the very desk that once signed reforms with urgency. Policy announcements grew fewer. Major rollouts dried up. The energy that had defined Pate’s first year slowly receded into a void of political undertones. And then came the whispers, and then confirmations of a new ambition: governorship in Bauchi State. Pate, by his own words in March 2025, declared himself “ready to serve” in his home state come 2027. From that moment on, what had been a robust health sector agenda began to take a back seat to the shifting winds of political alignment.

The problem isn’t ambition. It’s a distraction. A Coordinating Minister of Health in a country where maternal mortality is one of the highest in the world, where millions still pay out-of-pocket for even the most basic care, and where health infrastructure is crumbling under the weight of neglect, simply cannot afford to be half-present. This is the heart of the issue: politics has become both the gatekeeper and the grave-digger of Nigeria’s health potential.

For decades, well-meaning reforms have died at the altar of “lack of political will.” Budgets are approved, but rarely fully released. Policies are launched, but implementation fizzles out under new administrations. Health is often treated as a social service, rather than a critical pillar of economic development. Politicians are quicker to commission a white elephant hospital in a state capital than to strengthen the rural primary health centres where lives are quietly and daily lost.

And when leadership does finally begin to show some will, as Pate briefly did, the ever-thirsty machinery of Nigerian politics lures it away. This, perhaps, is the cruellest irony: politics that should drive public health, instead devours it.

The Nigerian public, meanwhile, remains largely unaware of how deeply entangled their health is with political decisions. Health issues are often viewed as isolated, with a bad hospital here and an unavailable drug there, rather than as symptoms of a larger systemic failure driven by poor governance, poor prioritisation, and a lack of sustained leadership.

We cannot continue to treat the health sector as an afterthought or a public relations prop. Health is not a photo opportunity. It is not a campaign gift or a once-in-a-quarter press release. It is a right, and more than that, it is the foundation for national development. No country has risen out of poverty, no economy has truly grown, without first investing heavily in the health of its people.

So, here’s the truth we must face: until Nigerian politics stops viewing health as just another item on a manifesto’s checklist and starts seeing it as a cornerstone of national survival, we will continue to spin our wheels. Ministers will come and go. Budgets will be announced and unspent. And the average Nigerian will continue to suffer preventable deaths, unaffordable care, and unattended illness.

The solution lies not only in leadership, but also in the voice of citizens, civil society, professionals, the media, and everyday people, who demand more than shallow commitments. We must demand that health be taken seriously, institutionally. That it be enshrined not just in words but in political action, protected from the cycles of campaign season, ego projects, and elective distractions. In this moment, we are witnessing a perfect case study of how even a promising leader can be lost to the lure of political pursuits. 

If Dr. Ali Pate, arguably one of Nigeria’s most qualified health minds, could be drawn away from a national assignment to a regional ambition, it speaks volumes about the fragility of reform when politics remains unchecked.

This article, then, is not just a critique. It is a call to consciousness. A call for the government to return to the trenches of national responsibility. A call for health to be declared not just a service, but a strategic national priority. A call for the public to realise that the decaying hospital they see is not just a facility issue, but a political problem. And it demands a political solution.

Let us stop treating the symptoms. Let us diagnose the root. And let us finally begin to treat politics as the virus silently killing Nigeria’s health system.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By Ukasha  Kofarnassarawa 

Basic education in public schools in Kano State is approaching its graveyard, where it will be laid to rest sooner than expected. This is why a larger portion of the population manages to enrol their children in private schools. Only those who are economically gasping for breath can barely afford to send their kids to the rotten public school system. 

It has reached a stage where teachers and principals of public schools also send their children to private schools. Just as medical doctors who own private hospitals, many academics who earn a salary from the Ministry of Education also own private schools. The recent whistleblowing, led by Dan Bello, to expose the dysfunction of our public schools, is not surprising to those who have invested heavily in the state of our public schools. 

However, Dan Bello is only addressing one aspect of the problem, which is infrastructural decay. There are many other problems, including incompetent teachers, a lack of proper supervision, and the anti-intellectual behaviour of teachers who attend school at their convenience. You will hear a school teacher who is supposed to be in school from 7:30 am to 2 pm every working day say that he only comes to school twice a week. 

Whatever Dan Bello’s intention is in exposing the situation, I believe it’s for the betterment of the state, especially since the governor has started responding to the problem. 

We acknowledge how the previous administration abandoned public schools, sold their land to develop houses and build corner shops, and shut down many. However, this is not the time for blame games; it’s time to revive the state of our education. And that’s one of the reasons why the state indigenes voted them out and gave this administration the chance to govern.

As I extracted this from the Facebook page of the Director-General of the Kano Bureau of Statistics, he wrote: “The attached chart presents estimated statistics on the total number of public primary and secondary schools in Kano, excluding new ones currently under construction. There are approximately 9,136 public primary and secondary schools across the state. 

Based on assessments, if 70 per cent of these schools are dilapidated and require renovation, that would mean about 6,395 schools need repair. At a rate of 100 schools renovated per month, it would take approximately 64 months, or 5 years and 4 months, to fully address the problem. So, it is unrealistic to expect that all dilapidated schools can be fixed within such a short timeframe of two years.”

This chilled my blood and set me thinking about the quickest and most realistic way to revive our education. I arrived at the following conclusions:

Since it will take us approximately 5 years to address the infrastructural decay alone, how many years would it take us to address the human capital problem? To improve the situation, I propose the following:

1. The government should establish six mega schools (3 secondary schools and three primary schools) that are fully equipped. This can be developed within a one-year calendar (the NWU senate building was built in less than a year, so it’s feasible). Each school should accommodate at least 1,000 students and make it the standard, as Day Science, Dawakin Tofa, and Dawakin Kudu used to be. These schools have produced some of the best medical doctors, engineers, and teachers, who have made us proud, even on the international stage.

2. Employ well-trained teachers and develop a system that can measure their performance. Why do public school teachers who earn at least ₦70,000 (considering the minimum wage) fail to teach their students effectively, while those in private schools who earn ₦30,000 or less perform far better? It’s a supervisory issue. In private schools, teachers are monitored and appraised. Let’s inculcate this culture in the newly established schools.

3. There’s no such thing as free education in those schools! Let parents/guardians pay. At least the school can earn an income for maintenance. 

If this idea is fully implemented, by 2031, when we expect to have addressed the infrastructural decay as stated above, the state would have produced at least 5,000 high-quality graduates who can compete with their private counterparts.

By Hanniel Sebatie Noboh

On the morning of July 30, Vanguard newspaper published an editorial titled “30% Processing of Export Raw Materials”, offering its perspective on the recently passed Senate bill mandating that all raw materials exported from Nigeria must be processed locally by at least 30 per cent. This long-overdue legislation is a welcome development in Nigeria’s quest for economic diversification.

Nigeria remains one of the most naturally endowed nations in the world. With abundant resources such as limestone, gold, natural gas, and the globally coveted crude oil, our country boasts mineral wealth that many developed nations lack. In agriculture too, from rice and groundnuts in the North to cassava and palm oil in the South, Nigeria’s fertile soil continues to bless us with variety and abundance.

Yet, successive governments have, for decades, focused disproportionately on crude oil, neglecting other sectors, such as agriculture and manufacturing. As the Vanguard editorial rightly observed, even during economic downturns—when necessity should inspire reform—there has been little effort to diversify our export base.

This is why the passage of this bill marks a significant shift. By requiring at least 30 per cent local processing of all export-bound raw materials, Nigeria takes a substantial step towards value addition and economic transformation.

The advantages are manifold. First, processed goods typically command higher prices in global markets. Take cocoa, for instance—a ton of raw beans sells for far less than the same quantity processed into cocoa butter. This principle applies to most commodities: the more value added, the greater the earnings.

Second, enforcing the 30 per cent processing threshold will spur the development of local industries. More processing facilities will mean more jobs, improved infrastructure, and Nigeria’s transition from an exporter of raw materials to a player in the global manufacturing and semi-processed goods market. Even for domestic buyers, the availability of semi-processed inputs will reduce dependency on fully imported goods, lowering costs and supporting local production.

Additionally, the bill aligns with President Bola Tinubu’s vision of making agriculture more attractive to Nigerian youth. Many young people may not be drawn to traditional farming, but with the emergence of new processing plants, opportunities will abound in machine operations, logistics, quality control, and related fields.

However, as Vanguard also warned, the real challenge lies in implementation. Nigeria has no shortage of well-intentioned policies, but history shows that many fail at the execution stage. A lack of infrastructure, regulatory oversight, and transparency could undermine the promise of this bill. The risk of corruption—particularly in granting exemptions or failing to enforce compliance—must be proactively addressed.

The responsibility for enforcement rests with the Raw Materials Research and Development Council (RMRDC), which must ensure compliance with the 30 per cent benchmark and uphold quality standards. Any exporter who fails to meet the requirement will face a 15% surcharge on the export value of their raw materials. This is a strong disincentive, but only if enforced fairly and transparently.

In conclusion, while the bill is commendable, its success depends on rigorous implementation, strong political will, and effective institutional accountability. If executed effectively, it could be a game-changer for Nigeria’s economy. Like many Nigerians, I remain hopeful that this won’t become another forgotten policy but the beginning of a new era of industrial growth and self-reliance.

Hanniel Sebatie Noboh is a Mass Communication student at Nile University and an intern at PRNigeria. She can be reached via nobohhanniel@gmail.com.

Dr. Muhammad Sulaiman Abdullahi

Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un. May Allah have mercy on Professor Hafizu Miko Yakasai. He was such a wonderful man that he never held any grudges against anyone. 

I met Prof. Hafizu as far back as 2003/2004, and by 2007/2008, he had supervised my B.A. project on Hausa translation. While writing the project, Malam pushed me so hard that it later transformed my life for the better.

Malam was hardworking, friendly, calm and always gentle. You can even say that Malam was the nicest of them all. Malam was always smiling, and he spoke to us as if he were talking to his friends or even his bosses. Malam always looked down when he spoke to you. So kind and loving. We will genuinely miss his charming smile, especially when he wants to make a point or respond to an interesting topic.

To have known Malam was to have known a rare and gentle light in this world. The always smiling gentleman. Today, that light feels dimmed, the smiles have left us, and our hearts are heavy with a grief that words can scarcely hold. Yet, even in this time of mourning, we are compelled to celebrate the extraordinary person he was —a teacher, a mentor, and one of the kindest souls to have graced our lives at Bayero University, Kano.

Prof. Hafizu was a teacher in the truest sense of the word. His classrooms were not just a place of learning, but a sanctuary of encouragement and support. He didn’t just teach Semantics; he taught us how to think, how to wonder and how to believe in ourselves even when we doubted our own capabilities.

The professor saw potential in the quietest student and brilliance in the most struggling mind. His greatest lessons were not found only in the textbooks, but in his unwavering patience, smiles and profound belief that every one of us had something unique and valuable to offer the world.

When Malam became the President of Nigeria’s Institute of Translators and Interpreters, he called me and asked me to participate in a high-level process of evaluating new intakes. I felt as if Malam was elevating me to a position for which I wasn’t qualified, but Malam sat by my side while I put the records in order and smoothed out the process, and together, we made it a success.

Wallahi Malam was a very great gentleman to the core. A peace-loving fellow. A man of charisma and calibre. I never saw him become angry. Perhaps he has a unique way of swallowing all the anger and reveals only soothing smiles.

There was a time when Malam invited us to a project that he had obtained from his good friend, Barrister Dasin. It was a project of translation. We really enjoyed ourselves and have our pockets filled up.

One day, we sat at the Centre for Research in Nigerian Languages, Translation & Folklore. All of a sudden, Malam asked Muhammad, ‘How can we translate…’ He then mentioned a particular word. I was amazed that this was my teacher, who had taught me for years, now asking me for something. This is to show you how simple and easy-going Malam was.

Besides teaching us, Malam took us as his own children, always drawing us nearer. He never acted like a boss; he was a guide who walked beside us, and with us, not ahead of us. He offered counsel without judgment, wisdom without arrogance, and a listening ear that made even our most minor problems feel important. He shaped not only our intellect but our character, leading always by the quiet example of his own integrity, compassion, and grace.

And yet, what we will carry with us most indelibly, what is etched into our memory with the warmth of a permanent sun, is his utmost kindness and smile. That ever-present, genuine, and kind smile. It was a beacon of welcome in the morning, a signal of understanding during a difficult lesson, and a silent celebration of our successes. In a world that can often be too serious and too harsh, his smiles were a constant reminder that joy is a choice, and kindness is a language everyone understands. It was the purest reflection of his beautiful spirit.

Thank you for everything. Your syllabus for a life well-lived is complete, and you earned an A+ in humanity, wisdom, dedication and kindness. We will miss you more than words can say, but we will never forget your lessons and your magnificent smiles.

Malam was an HOD many years ago; he was a Dean, a Professor, and a pioneer Provost of the College of Arts, and he died in active service. He came and worked in the university even in the last days of his life. Above all, he was a very kind gentleman, a devout servant of Allah.

The best part of Malam’s life was that not many people knew he was an A-grade student and teacher of the Qur’an. Coincidentally, the last events he attended in his academic life were on the glorious Qur’an. The Centre organised the last for Qur’anic Studies under the leadership of Sheikh Prof. Ahmad Murtala. May the almighty Allah raise you among the Qur’anic reciters on the Day of Judgement, amen.

Prof. Hafizu has done his part and left. It is now time to reflect on his life and build on the good legacies he left. I extend my condolences to his family, friends, students, Bayero University, Kano, and the entire academic community.

May Allah forgive your shortcomings, Malam. May Allah make Jannatul Firdaus your final home. You have done wonderfully, Malam, with endless gratitude and love. Insha’Allah, you will continue to smile in Jannah, sir. Ameen!

By Lawal Dahiru Mamman

There are times when the stars seem to be aligning. All trouble appears to be disappearing, awaiting only what happens when those stars fall into line. But then, unexpectedly, things take a different turn, and the trouble assumes a different shape, sometimes with an additional burden. Such is the irony of Nigeria.

Governance was generally out of reach for the common man, especially those at the grassroots level who lacked the basic necessities required to live a decent life. To address this, there has been a clamour for local government autonomy. Successive governments have attempted to do so, but it was only the current administration that secured this victory in July 2024.

Since then, bureaucracies and political “manoeuvring have clogged up full implementation. Enforcement faced a delay in August when the federal and state governments negotiated a three-month moratorium, due to concerns about council workers’ salary payments and the need to conduct LG elections in certain states, alongside other pressing matters.

Just as progress seemed imminent, another hurdle emerged. The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) directed LGs to submit at least two years’ worth of audited financial reports as a prerequisite for receiving direct allocation. Key stakeholders, including the Association of Local Governments of Nigeria (ALGON), condemned the directive as perceived delay tactics. 

While we are at it, the long-standing call for the creation of more states has resurfaced. In February, the House of Representatives’ Committee on Constitution Review threw a spanner in the works by proposing the creation of 31 additional states across Nigeria. If this comes to fruition, it would swell the number of states to 67, with some quipping that this would leave Nigeria with more states than “the Almighty United States”.

The proposed distribution of the new states is as follows: six to the North Central, four to the North-East, five to the North-West, five to the South-East, four to the South-South, and seven to the South-West. 

The proposed new states are New Kaduna and Gujarat from Kaduna State, FCT State, Tiga and Ari from Kano, Kainji from Kebbi State, and Etiti, Orashi, Adada, and Orlu from the South-East.

Others are Okun, Okura, and Confluence states from Kogi; Benue Ala and Apa states from Benue; Amana state from Adamawa; Katagum from Bauchi state; Savannah state from Borno; and Muri State from Taraba.

Also included are Lagoon from Lagos, Ogun, Ijebu from Ogun State, as well as Oke Ogun/Ijesha from Oyo/Ogun/Osun States, Ogoja from Cross River State, Warri from Delta, Ori and Obolo from Rivers, Torumbe from Ondo, and Ibadan from Oyo State.

Some proponents interestingly argue that these new states possess abundant mineral and natural resources, which would be harnessed post-creation for the benefit of their people. One is forced to question the logic behind such reasoning and then wonder, are these not already entities within existing states, or would these new states be conjured out of thin air to perform this economic magic?

One would also need to educate Nigerians on a little bit of history and the processes required to achieve state creation in the country. The last time Nigeria created new states was in 1996, under the late General Sani Abacha. The only time a civilian government created a federating unit in the form of a state, rather than a local government area, was in 1963, and it was reportedly done without good faith. 

The Northern People’s Congress (NPC) was the ruling party at the centre, and it was in alliance with the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC), which was the ruling party in the Eastern Region. The ruling party in the Western Region was the Action Group (AG), while the opposition party was at the centre. There were other smaller parties, but only the NPC, NCNC, and AG were well-known. The alliance at the centre wanted to counter the growing influence of the Action Group, so a region was created from it. 

That region was named the Midwest Region, which later became Bendel state (derived from Benin and Delta). Bendel later became the Edo and Delta states.

Since then, only military regimes have created states in Nigeria. The Gowon administration, on May 27, 1967, abolished the regional system and created 12 states – North-Western, North-Central, North-Eastern, Kano, Benue-Plateau, Kwara, Western, Lagos, Mid-Western, East-Central, South-Eastern, and Rivers States – as part of the strategies to weaken Col. Odumegwu Ojukwu and prevent the civil war. 

Creation of states continued under subsequent military regimes. General Murtala Mohammed created an additional seven states (Bauchi, Benue, Borno, Imo, Niger, Ogun, and Ondo) in 1976, bringing the total to 19. 

General Babangida created Akwa Ibom and Katsina states in 1987, and nine more states (Abia, Delta, Enugu, Jigawa, Kebbi, Kogi, Osun, Taraba, and Yobe) in 1991, bringing the total to 30. General Sani Abacha sealed it in 1996 by creating six more states – Bayelsa, Ebonyi, Ekiti, Gombe, Nasarawa, and Zamfara.

Conditions for state creation in a democratic setting are stringent and cumbersome, making it unlikely to happen. Military governments created states by decree, but in a democracy, it is a different ball game.

Before anyone advocates for the creation of a new state, they should study the provisions required to do so. Two-thirds of the National Assembly, as well as endorsements from State Houses of Assembly and Local Government Councils,must be achieved. This requirement makes it challenging to create new states in Nigeria. 

In accordance with Section 8 of the Nigerian Constitution, any new state creation must be preceded by the approval of citizens from the area in question through a referendum conducted by the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC). For the referendum to be successful, a two-thirds majority of the people in question must consent to the creation of the new state.

Then comes resubmission of proposals in line with the prescribed guidelines, which includes submitting hard copies and electronic copies of memoranda to the committee’s secretariat, among other things. 

At a time we all advocate for a cut in governance costs, what would creating new states mean for the economy? What about the scarce resources consumed in holding meetings to contest whether or not to create new states? And what about the cost required to set up additional administrative units, the elections to be conducted, or the SUVs that would need to be purchased for 31 new brand governors and deputies, as well as principal officers in the House of Assembly? 

The stars seem to be aligning in favour of local government autonomy, and hope is on the horizon for meaningful governance at the grassroots level, which will lead to national development. The movement towards state creation,therefore, appears to be an unnecessary and costly distraction.

Lawal Dahiru Mamman writes from Abuja and can be reached via: dahirulawal90@gmail.com.

“In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing…. ” – Thomas Carlyle 

Around 7:00 am, I was awakened by a call from one of my friends, who wanted me to inquire on his behalf about admission into one of the colleges of Health Sciences I attended about a decade ago.

As our conversation progressed, he shared with me another contact he had made at another school, stating that, considering the security situation in that state, he could gain admission into the final year to take the final professional exams and be awarded a certified healthcare practitioner.

When I inquired further about how possible that was, considering his lack of knowledge in that field, I knew him to have studied another related healthcare course and was now looking to switch over. His answer was, “You know the ‘Nigeria factor.'”

I was taken aback, unprepared for this update. I was so naive, not expecting this level of decadence. How does it come about that a person could obtain a certificate in any health-related course without the required rigorous training and hands-on skills?

I thought this could happen somewhere, but not in my beloved profession. Our love for shortcuts is going to ruin us. This ‘Nigeria factor,’ if it continues, definitely would consume us. 

It wouldn’t come as a surprise when some of our elites do not believe in being treated at our local facilities. How certain are you that such a quack isn’t in the teaching hospitals or the National Hospital in Abuja?

The system that allows them to obtain a certificate without the required training is the same system that could lead to their employment ahead of more competent and well-grounded individuals.

Given the current state of affairs, I couldn’t entirely blame those who can afford the best private hospitals or overseas clinics. Eight years, and one man was incapable of rectifying this mess. It was a systematic and complex problem that required collective efforts.

President Muhammadu Buhari wasn’t present when the candidate paid the highest sum to the school director or head of department to get admission. Buhari or Tinubu wasn’t present when the National Board of Examinations failed to conduct the necessary checks before approving those candidates, or to verify whether they had attained the required training. 

President Goodluck Jonathan, or President Olusegun Obasanjo, wasn’t present when the agency responsible for recruitment employed such reckless individuals without conducting a thorough investigation into their accredited institution or level of expertise.

Our universities are well-regulated and produce individuals who are competent enough, but they primarily focus on producing senior nursing officers, medical doctors, senior pharmacists, and radiographers or medical laboratory scientists. What of those responsible for taking your blood sample or those who gave your child the vaccine doses?

I am not questioning the entire workforce. Indeed, there were many hard-working and competent personnel, but with the way things were moving, there was also a lot more quackery. If things like this can occur in the most regulated sector, such as healthcare, how confident are you in other professions? 

What guarantee do you have over the NAFDAC recommendation on specific products? How assured are we of the technicians managing our airline services and the local engineers constructing our bridges?

The system that you seem smart enough to outmanoeuvre, driving a car without the necessary papers and licenses, might be the very system that produces some of your teachers, your drivers, and your law enforcement, whom you entrust your very life to. This creates a form of distrust in Nigeria. 

I was interested in a documentary aired by the BBC about Heathrow Airport in the UK. Although it’s an international airport and one of the best globally, comparing the standardised system there could be absurd, but still, it’s obvious the British have a culture of meticulous attention to detail and ensuring everything is done correctly with due process.

 It’s not surprising that there are the fewest number of automobile accidents, maternal mortalities, electricity power grid collapses, and flood disasters.

In a system where everyone took responsibility as if the success or failure of a task depended on him/her, life could have been nicer. However, in our society, we enjoy the blame game too much. Every failure is attributed to the leaders at the top, sometimes ridiculously, upon a single soul, the president.

In the movie Titanic, it’s evident that the fateful accident of the mega ship was attributed to some technical errors made by the crew assistants, not just the captain alone.

 Imagine a minor negligence that led to such a catastrophe, and compare that to the thousands of such mistakes, even greater, that we commit daily in our various walks of life.

The deliberate 15 minutes you were late could have been the cause of someone’s death. The intentional habit of switching your phone off on duty could have been the source of losing someone’s life.

The lack of a proper checklist could have led to a conflagration, a dam break, a bridge collapse, or a building collapse.

Trying to do the right thing doesn’t cost more than doing otherwise. It only builds your character, gives satisfaction, and pays in the long run.

How sustainable was this, the  ‘Nigeria factor’?

Saifullahi Attahir wrote from Federal University Dutse. He can be reached via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.

By Lawan Bukar Maigana

I am writing this article not as a distant observer but as someone who walked through flooded streets, stood side by side with victims, and spent sleepless nights wondering how many more people would survive the next downpour. I have seen firsthand the destruction that floods bring to Borno State, and I feel morally obligated to appeal to both the federal and Borno State governments.

This isn’t just another seasonal disaster—it is a pattern that is worsening every year, and if nothing is done urgently, the consequences will be even more devastating. With recent flood warnings placing Maiduguri and Ngala on high alert, it is time to confront this problem with the seriousness it demands.

On the night of September 10th, 2024, the people of Maiduguri experienced a calamity that was both preventable and predictable. The Alau Dam collapsed, releasing a force of water that surged through communities, homes, and markets. Over 400,000 residents were displaced, and more than 150 lives were lost in a matter of hours.

The city turned into a watery grave, with roads cut off, houses submerged, and businesses completely destroyed. The damage wasn’t limited to infrastructure—it shattered lives, disrupted families, and exposed the deep infrastructural weaknesses we have long chosen to ignore.

Almost a year later, thousands of those affected are still struggling to rebuild their lives. Many families remain without shelter, forced to live in makeshift tents or overcrowded compounds. Traders who once ran thriving businesses in Monday Market, Gwange, Moduganari, and Customs areas are still unable to return to their stalls. 

Some have relocated entirely, while others now rely on daily handouts to survive. The truth is, for many of them, recovery has barely begun. What is even more painful is knowing that much of this suffering could have been avoided if the right steps had been taken early enough.

I was part of a team that responded immediately after the flood hit. Alongside Kyari Alto Mohammed and Mohammed Umar, we coordinated a massive grassroots relief effort that reached some of the hardest-hit areas in Maiduguri. With no institutional backing, we mobilized resources through social media, friends, and personal savings.

We cooked thousands of meals each day, provided water, distributed sanitary items, and gave cash support to vulnerable families, including women who had just given birth in the middle of flooded neighborhoods. We were physically present in communities like Gwange, Bulabulin, Abbagaram, Customs, Bayan Quarters, and 505 when few others dared to step out.

Our effort was not driven by any political ambition or media recognition, but by the sheer urgency of the situation. Still, we were humbled when our work received national attention. The Nigerian Defence Headquarters acknowledged our commitment. Daily Trust and Arewa Agenda ran stories documenting our activities. We were not the only ones helping, but we were among the few who stayed consistent long after the cameras left. That recognition only strengthened our resolve to keep going until real solutions are implemented.

The crisis wasn’t just about hunger or shelter. In one instance, we received a call that a woman in labor was stranded near the Customs area. With the help of team members, we transported her to a nearby clinic, and she delivered safely. This is just one of many stories that reveal how fragile life becomes during disasters, especially when there is no functional system to protect the most vulnerable. You cannot hear such stories and return to business as usual.

And yet, after all this pain, the structural root of the problem—Alau Dam—remains unrepaired, unexpanded, and not reconstructed. The dam was not just overwhelmed by water, it had been weakened over the years due to a lack of maintenance, and nothing meaningful has been done to strengthen or expand it since. If we are serious about preventing future disasters, Alau Dam must be reconstructed with modern engineering standards that can withstand extreme events. A city like Maiduguri cannot be left at the mercy of a dam that is both outdated and unreliable.

The rivers and drainage systems that cut through Maiduguri—especially those in Monday Market, Gwange, Moduganari, and the Custom area—have become bottlenecks. They are either blocked by debris or too narrow to carry runoff during the rainy season. When the water rises, these waterways overflow into neighborhoods, turning entire communities into flood zones. Dredging and expanding these channels is not a luxury—it is a necessity. Every rainy season without action only increases the cost of the next disaster.

Recent warnings by the National Flood Early Warning Centre of the Federal Ministry of Environment indicate that Maiduguri and Ngala are likely to face flooding again this year. With Cameroon releasing water from the Lagdo Dam and rainfall levels projected to be high, the signs are clear. If we do nothing, we are walking into another tragedy with our eyes wide open. We must stop acting like this is a surprise. It is not. We know what will happen. The question is whether we care enough to act.

I believe this is the moment for not just boldness, but proactive leadership. The federal and state governments must go beyond relief donations. They must invest heavily in preventive infrastructure. Rebuilding Alau Dam is step one. Dredging and expanding the river systems within Maiduguri is step two. And step three should be the construction of new multipurpose dams on the outskirts of the city. These new dams will not only help with water management, but they can also be used for irrigation farming, thereby creating jobs for our teeming youth population.

Imagine a system where the floodwaters are not a threat but an opportunity—collected, stored, and channeled into large-scale farming projects. It is possible. With the right planning, we can turn our flood problem into a source of prosperity. But this requires vision and political will. It means prioritizing infrastructure over rhetoric, and people over politics. It means spending money on what matters, and doing it now—not after lives are lost.

As we advocate for these changes, we must also fix our early warning systems. The people of Borno deserve timely, reliable alerts that can help them prepare for emergencies. This includes real-time monitoring of rainfall levels, dam pressure, and river volumes. Alerts should be disseminated through radio, TV, community leaders, and even SMS. Preparedness should not be a privilege; it should be a right for every citizen.

We also need a comprehensive flood response plan that includes evacuation routes, designated shelters, emergency food reserves, and mobile clinics. What we had last year was an improvised reaction. We must transform that into a formal system that is tested and improved regularly. Communities must be trained on how to respond to flooding so that panic does not claim more lives than the water itself.

For those still displaced by last year’s flood, the government must provide real support. This means not just money, but long-term assistance to help them rebuild homes, restart businesses, and recover their dignity. A casual donation of rice and wrappers is not enough. These people need real pathways to recovery, or else they will remain in a cycle of suffering.

This appeal is not just coming from me alone, but from the thousands who survived, the families still grieving, the mothers still nursing babies under destroyed roofs, and the fathers who cannot provide because their means of livelihood was washed away. They may not have access to media or public platforms, but their voices matter. I am simply amplifying what they live every day.

I also call on humanitarian organizations, development partners, and civil society groups to push for structural interventions. The burden cannot rest on volunteers alone. We need coordinated support, technical expertise, and funding directed toward long-term flood prevention—not just short-term relief distribution.

Let us not pretend that this problem is unique to Borno. Other states across Nigeria are also at risk. But Borno remains among the most vulnerable due to its topography and its already fragile infrastructure. If we get it right here, we can create a model for flood resilience across the country.

To my fellow citizens, especially those in leadership, I ask: how many more people must die before we act? How many more homes must be destroyed before we acknowledge that climate change, poor planning, and neglect are a deadly combination? This is a moral question, not just a technical one.

As someone who has worked in the mud, cried with victims, and seen hope disappear under dirty water, I say this with a full heart: enough is enough. Let this year be different. Let this be the year we prepared, not the year we mourned again. Let us not wait until the next rainy season swallows another community before calling a press conference.

The cost of inaction is too high. The reward for preparation is immeasurable. Borno deserves more than sympathy—it deserves protection, planning, and progress. The time to act is not tomorrow. It is today. It is now.

I write this with the urgency of someone who has seen too much loss. I write it because I believe we can prevent the next disaster if we decide to. I write it because Borno’s future should not be shaped by floods, but by the collective courage to build something better. May our leaders rise to the occasion, and may we never have to write this story again.

Lawan Bukar Maigana is Daily Trust’s 2024 Hero and can be reached via email: Lawanbukarmaigana@gmail.com.

By Abbas Datti

Our beloved Kano State has now become a nightmare of unprecedented violence, lawlessness and phone-snatching all courtesy of thugs’ criminal activities. Once-peaceful communities now live under the shadow of fear as ruthless and armed gangsters unleash a reign of terror daily. These assailants, wielding deadly local weapons, have maimed, killed, and left countless families in mourning.

The attacks often strike without notice. Some places have now become theatres of war in the dead of night, forcing residents, young and old, to flee into the darkness with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Homes must be locked in broad daylight for fear of being a victim of some happy, menacing marauders. 

The cruelty has engulfed so many metropolitan places of Kano State, with no concerted effort to stop the horrendous activities of those brutal thugs. We wonder when these horrible experiences will stop? Thugs have become a significant threat to the collective well-being of the people of Kano. 

In the chaos, the gang of thugs attack with no mercy. Men are butchered as they defend their families; they have no scruples to attack even women and children as they attempt to escape. Residents speak of the horror of seeing loved ones hacked with machetes, swords and other local dangerous weapons. They destroyed properties, smashed buildings and cars parked outside houses and buildings. 

As this wave of violence rages on, we call for urgent and decisive action from security agencies. Moreover, the Inspector General of Police is to dispatch a special intelligence unit to analyse the situation on the ground and subject it to a holistic review of the present strategy. 

The people of Kano demand not only the arrest and prosecution of the perpetrators but also the establishment of permanent security posts in the most vulnerable areas. Although some security posts were built in some places for that purpose, they are yet to be fully operational, leaving residents with only the building structures. Without swift intervention, Kano risks slipping further into lawlessness, and the fragile threads of peace may be torn beyond repair.

This is not merely an attack on individuals; it is an assault on our shared humanity and our future. We ask for definite action before the fires of thugs consume us all. We ask for an end to this bloodbath that has been threatening the peace and stability of Kano and its people. 

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

By Musa Kalim Gambo

In a rapidly evolving and increasingly secular world grappling with unprecedented challenges posed by science and technology, a groundbreaking symposium was convened at Kaduna State University (KASU) on August 28, 2025, to advocate for the integration of Islamic values into the academic content of tertiary institutions. Organised by the International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT), Central Nigeria Office, Abuja, in collaboration with KASU’s Department of Islamic Studies, the one-day event brought together leading scholars to explore the philosophical and theological foundations, pedagogical strategies, and practical pathways for embedding ethical and spiritual principles within conventional academic disciplines. The symposium was followed by the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding between Kaduna State University and the International Institute of Islamic Thought, Central Nigeria Office, on research, publication, and other areas aimed at integrating Islamic knowledge.

The symposium underscored the urgent need for education to transcend mere knowledge transmission and embrace the holistic development of character, ethics, and purpose. Speaking at the event, Dr. Sa’idu Ahmad Dukawa, the national coordinator of IIIT Kano Office, thanked KASU for the opportunity to “interface” and highlighted the IIIT project’s aim to revive the early Muslims’ approach to acquiring knowledge, integrating acquired knowledge with revealed knowledge, and reclaiming a holistic knowledge heritage. On his part, Dr. Aliyu Tanko, Coordinator of the IIIT Central Nigeria Office in Abuja, highlighted the ongoing contributions of the IIIT towards reform in Islamic studies within the framework of contemporary global realities across the Muslim world.

The Philosophical Bedrock: Tawhid as the Unifying Principle

A central theme woven throughout the presentations was the concept of Tawhid, the Islamic principle of the oneness of God, as the fundamental basis for integrating revealed (theological) and rational (philosophical) knowledge. IIIT’s Secretary General, Professor Omar Hasan Kasule, whose virtual presentation from Riyadh in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia focused on the philosophical and theological foundations, explained that Islam itself is an integration of theology and philosophy. “All knowledge originates from one Creator,” Professor Kasule asserted, emphasising that revealed knowledge (Qur’an and Sunnah) and rational knowledge (human observation and experimentation) are inherently related and integratable.

Historically, Islamic intellectual discourse witnessed significant controversies between proponents of revealed and rational knowledge. Early Muslim thinkers, such as Al-Farabi and Ibn Sina, were heavily influenced by Greek philosophy, particularly Aristotelian thought. Al-Farabi was even known as “al mu’allim al thaani” (the second teacher) after Aristotle. However, this intellectual engagement also led to significant debates. Al-Ghazali, a towering figure in Islamic thought, famously authored “The Incoherence of the Philosophers” (Tahafut al-Falasifa), rejecting certain aspects of Plato and Aristotle’s philosophy and challenging the views of Muslim philosophers. Ibn Rushd later countered his critique in “Tahatuf al Tahatuf” (Incoherence of the Incoherent), arguing that reason and revelation cannot contradict each other because both seek truth.

Later, Ibn Taymiyah rejected Aristotelian philosophy and, in his seminal work “Removing Conflict between Reason and Revelation” (Darʾ taʿāruḍ al-ʿaql wa al-naql), proved that clear rational thought (sariih al ma’aquul) aligns with correctly transmitted revelation (sahih al manquul). This resolution to the perceived contradiction, rooted in the Tawhidi paradigm, underpins the modern movement for the integration of knowledge (IOK).

Professor Kasule further highlighted empirical observations supporting the unity of knowledge, citing discoveries such as:

• The synthesis of urea from inorganic materials breaks the barrier between organic and inorganic worlds.
• The atom is the common building block for all physical bodies.
• DNA serves as a common basis for the biological sciences, demonstrating a higher order.
• The interchangeability of mass and energy.
• Brain chemistry explaining mental phenomena.
• Universal phenomena of anticlockwise revolution, from celestial bodies to electrons and the tawaf around the Kaaba.

These scientific and natural phenomena serve as powerful evidence that the universe is integrated, implying that the disciplines studying it must also find integration.

Value-based Teaching and Research: A Holistic Approach

Professor Ahmad Bello Dogarawa, a seasoned scholar from Ahmadu Bello University, elaborated in his presentation on contextual approaches and pedagogical strategies, highlighting the value-based (VB) teaching and research methodology. From an Islamic perspective, this approach integrates ethical, spiritual, and moral values derived from Islamic teachings into the education and creation of knowledge. It seeks a “middle path,” preserving Islamic values without impeding scholarly progress.

Professor Dogarawa emphasised that VB teaching aims to nurture graduates with a strong foundation of faith, deep knowledge, competence, skills, and value-based creativity and innovation. The approach is founded on six essential elements:

• Tawhidic worldview
• Ethical considerations
• Islamic epistemology
• Contextualisation
• Integrative approach
• Maqasid al-Shari’ah (objectives of Islamic law)

He outlined practical pedagogical strategies, including infusing the Qur’anic worldview into content delivery (e.g., biology for the concept of life as a trust from Allah, economics for the prohibition of interest, and accounting for Islamic contributions to double-entry accounting). He also introduced case studies with ethical reflections.

Critiquing the scientific approach often prevalent in modern research, Professor Dogarawa pointed out its weaknesses, such as:

• Disconnection from ethics and values
• Knowledge dichotomisation
• Secularist worldview
• Neglect of context and over-reliance on statistical significance
• Vague claim of objectivity

He presented the Islamic approach as an alternative, combining spiritual, philosophical, and empirical perspectives to foster a more holistic understanding, encouraging purposeful investigation, contemplation, reflection, and verification of truth.

Challenges and Opportunities in Conventional Academia

Professor Khalid Aliyu Abubakar, the Secretary-General of Jama’atu Nasril Islam (JNI), addressed the challenges, opportunities, and strategic pathways for promoting the Islamic worldview in conventional academic environments. He acknowledged the “epistemological tensions” present in modern academia, which are often rooted in secular, materialist, and positivist frameworks that may dismiss metaphysical or revelation-based perspectives as “non-scientific”.

“Universities in the West and increasingly in Muslim majority contexts tend to separate faith from scholarship,” Professor Abubakar lamented, highlighting the resulting erosion of character and learning. He also pointed to internal fragmentation among Muslim scholars themselves, who may “lack consensus on how to integrate Islamic principles with modern disciplines”. Dr. Dukawa also used the analogy of Imam Al-Ghazali, likening acquired knowledge to “eyes” and revealed knowledge to “light” – both are essential, and neglecting either leads to blindness or inability to see. He further elaborated on Ibn Taymiyah’s work, which deconstructed Aristotelian philosophy regarding the relationships between “essence and existence” and “body and soul,” demonstrating how an Islamic perspective provides a more comprehensive understanding of reality and the afterlife.

Despite these challenges, Professor Abubakar identified significant opportunities:

• Enhancing ethical discourse: Islamic values can enrich debates on bioethics and other fields.
• Offering holistic paradigms: Integrating material and spiritual aspects of human existence (body, mind, and soul) can broaden understanding in psychology, education, and health sciences.
• Interfaith and cross-cultural dialogue.
• Revival of intellectual tradition: Promoting classical Islamic thought (e.g., Ibn Khaldun in sociology, Al-Ghazali in philosophy) and demonstrating its relevance to modern challenges.

Practical strategies include curriculum development that incorporates Islamic perspectives into the social sciences, economics, and psychology, as well as framing research questions informed by the Qur’an, Sunnah, and Islamic intellectual history.

A Call to Action and KASU’s Commitment

Professor Kasule also highlighted several societal problems arising from the lack of integrated values in the modern technological era, including:

• Lack of purposiveness (غائية): Technology advancements occur without a clear vision or purpose, leading to mere “play” or “pastime” (عبث).
• Blind following (تقليد): People blindly adopt new gadgets and trends without questioning their necessity, echoing historical instances of following forefathers without intellect.
• Over-reliance on concrete thinking over conceptual thinking: Modern life, with its abundance of imagery, discourages abstract thought, thereby impacting reflection on divine signs.
• Loss of balance (توازن) and equilibrium (اعتدال): An immersion in virtual reality and a culture of extremes can lead to a loss of natural balance in various aspects of life, contrasting with Islam’s emphasis on moderation.

To counter these issues and advance the integration of knowledge, Professor Kasule strongly advocated for professors and lecturers to write their own textbooks, integrating Islamic values rather than merely consuming knowledge from others. He outlined a detailed process for textbook writing, from general epistemology seminars to specific discipline working groups, curriculum outlines, and structured chapter development, including Islamic input, case studies, and texts from Islamic sources. IIIT offers grants to support authors in this endeavour.

The main achievement of the IOK movement, Professor Kasule noted, has been the establishment of integrated schools and universities globally, alongside integrated curricula and teaching materials, particularly in finance and food technology. However, the remaining challenge is to move beyond merely “adding Islamic values to existing knowledge or subtracting non-Islamic ones” towards creating new integrated or Islamised knowledge, making Muslims “creators and innovators and not consumers of knowledge by others”.

Concluding the symposium, Professor Abdullahi Musa Ashafa, the Vice-Chancellor of Kaduna State University, lauded the organisers and expressed KASU’s deep commitment to the integration agenda. Emphasising that “Islam is knowledge, knowledge is Islam,” he stated that KASU would analyse the presentations, implement the ideas, and organise a follow-up workshop on value-based teaching and research. Significantly, the Vice-Chancellor announced that KASU’s governing council had recently approved a brand-new Centre for Quranic Science, which will serve as a hub for discussions on knowledge, Islamic perspectives, and the relationship with Quranic insights. He also indicated a strong desire to formalise the partnership with IIIT through a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU).

The symposium at KASU marks a crucial step in re-establishing the holistic and value-driven pursuit of knowledge that characterised early Islamic scholarship, paving the way for a future where academic excellence is inextricably linked with ethical grounding and spiritual purpose.

Musa Kalim Gambo writes from Kaduna, Nigeria