Opinion

By Usman Salisu Gurbin Mikiya 

Katsina, as the name resonates, is widely regarded as a home of hospitality — a land where people live in harmony and mutual respect. It is a place of comfort where the warmth of its people makes life pleasant and fulfilling.

Recently, however, the long history of relative peace has begun to fade; an uncharacteristic catastrophe once thought distant has started unfolding, becoming a major concern for residents of Katsina Metropolis and beyond, especially as it adds to the decade-long insecurity bedevilling the state.

The issue of phone snatching in Nigeria originated from wristwatch snatching in Southern Nigeria, particularly in Lagos and other highly populated state capitals. It often occurred in strategic areas with heavy traffic, and over time, it evolved into a practice of phone snatching.

In Northwestern Nigeria, phone snatching started in Kaduna State about eight years ago. I vividly recall my visit to Kaduna in 2020, when I was on assignment for my media organisation. A Keke Napep rider warned me to hide my phone from criminals after noticing me pressing it through his mirror.

What began as an alarming trend in Kaduna escalated into a catastrophic issue, with phone snatching syndicates extending their activities into Kano, creating panic and undermining public safety.

During one of my visits to Kano, two of my brothers, on different occasions, warned me not to use my phone while on a tricycle in certain areas. They cautioned that I could lose my life over a phone, as snatchers were everywhere, and even advised me to choose the Keke Napep I boarded carefully.

Indeed, what started as an alarming wave in Kaduna has gradually spread like wildfire, creeping into Kano and now reaching Katsina. Once considered a distant menace, the problem has arrived at the very doorstep of Katsinawa, turning a basic necessity —the mobile phone — into a source of constant fear. This epidemic of criminality is no longer a local crisis but a regional catastrophe demanding urgent attention.

In Katsina Metropolis, residents of Sabuwar Unguwa are no strangers to this menace, as multiple reported cases of phone snatching have occurred, particularly targeting visitors and strangers in the area.

During Governor Ibrahim Shehu Shema’s administration, wayward youths, popularly known as Kauraye, emerged in Katsina. They crippled businesses and created tension in the metropolis, especially in areas such as Sabuwar Unguwa, Inwala, Sabon Layi, and Tudun Ƴan Lahidda.

Their reckless activities frustrated Governor Shema to the point where he took decisive measures that restored sanity and ended the menace.

Similarly, during Governor Aminu Bello Masari’s administration, persistent attacks by delinquent youths, suspected to be from Inwala in the ATC area, forced the government to establish a special Civil Defence outpost. This step drastically reduced the menace.

In his first year in office, Governor Dikko Umaru Radda also faced resurging activities of wayward youths in Sabuwar Unguwa. He personally led security agents in night operations, which eventually restored peace in the area.

However, with three different phone snatching incidents recorded within just three days on major roads, it is clear that social vices are escalating in the city. If not urgently addressed, they risk crippling businesses and threatening public safety.

The first incident occurred on 20th September, when Mrs Sada Shu’aibu was attacked near Sabuwar Dan Marna graveyard, and the attackers attempted to snatch her phone and inflicted serious injuries on her body. 

The following day, 21st September, during the grand finale of the Maulud procession, Usman Marwan was brutally attacked by phone snatchers at his business centre near the MTN office in Kofar Ƙaura.

Furthermore, on 26th September, another victim narrowly escaped death after being attacked by snatchers. This incident has heightened concerns among residents of the metropolis.

With insecurity already ravaging some local governments in Katsina State, the fact that the capital city is now battling phone snatching suggests that Katsina is increasingly under the control of thugs.

This menace has resurfaced under the leadership of Governor Radda, who had earlier recruited hundreds of youths to fight insecurity in the state. Many residents are now watching closely to see how he will respond to this rising threat.

Phone snatching can still be contained within a short period if several urgent measures are taken, including:

The government should initiate a law prescribing either the death penalty or life imprisonment for anyone convicted of phone snatching, alongside a shoot-on-sight order for fleeing offenders.

The government should declare a state of emergency on phone snatching so that the fight against this menace does not derail broader security efforts in the state.

Usman Salisu Gurbin Mikiya, M.Sc. student, Department of Mass Communication, Bayero University, Kano. He can be reached via his Email: usmangurbi@gmail.com.

By Faiza Aliyu Farouk

Leaving the comfort of home to pursue education elsewhere is a defining moment in the lives of many students. Schooling away from home means stepping into an unfamiliar world, one that is both exciting, exhilarating, yet overwhelming. It’s more than just a physical transition; it’s an emotional and psychological journey that reshapes who we are.

The moment you pack your bags and wave goodbye to the familiar walls of your family home, you begin a journey filled with uncertainty, growth, discomfort, and discovery. It exposes students to diverse cultures, ideas, and ways of life.

One of the most challenging parts of schooling away from home, according to many, is the emotional toll it takes.

Homesickness is a quiet but heavy feeling that settles in your chest in the middle of the night or while eating something bland and unfamiliar.

Research by Yugo, student accommodation provider in the university of Derby found that almost two-thirds (61%) of students aged 19 to 25 were concerned about feeling homesick when it came to moving away for the first time (The Guardian, 2024).

That number felt very real when talking to friends and classmates who admitted to crying in their hostels during the first few weeks. And yet, almost all of them pushed through and eventually found ways to cope.

The first few weeks or months away from home can be particularly tough. The excitement of a fresh start often gives way to the reality of managing day-to-day activities independently.

“I was excited but anxious,” said Fatima, a 400-level Mass Communication student at BUK. She recalls the first time she stepped foot on campus, far from the comfort of her family. “I missed the comfort, care, and familiar routine of home. I had to figure things out on my own, even when I was sick.”

There are many reasons why students leave their homes to study elsewhere. Abdulaziz, a medical student who left his hometown of Minna for Kano, said he left in pursuit of a better academic program.

“The schools back home weren’t offering the course I wanted to study.” Meanwhile, Alhassan, who left Jos for Kano, said he intentionally chose to stay far from home to gain experience.

“I wanted new perspectives and to challenge myself. While some leave for academics, others see distance as a test of independence.

Navigating environmental factors is another challenge of schooling away from home. “Having spent my life in Jos, never traveling for exposure or leisure.

Transitioning to a new setting was quite a challenge,” Alhassan said. As student routines change, so do relationships.

“Sometimes I feel distant from my family due to limited time spent with them, not because of anything else,” he added.

However, others, like Tsadu said they noticed a shift in how they were treated due to being away from home: “They respect me more now.”

Khadija, when asked what studying away from home meant for her, said, “I became my own person. I stopped relying on others to make decisions for me.”

Another student shared, “It was hard, but I needed to be away to find myself.” For others, it was about discovering their voice, taking risks, and failing without shame.

These stories are common, yet each one is uniquely powerful.

Living on campus forces students to grapple with new responsibilities. From cooking, budgeting, building community, and dealing with loneliness.

“Staying away has made me financially independent and more disciplined. I realized five thousand naira doesn’t stretch far,” Zainab admitted.

While describing the daily struggles, she said; “Staying in the hostel isn’t easy, especially when you come back from lectures hungry and there’s no water to cook. You have to fetch it first, sometimes from far away.

The issue of electricity is another challenge, we only get light for three hours at night, which is when we charge our devices and study. It’s not convenient; I just manage.”

Although the emotional impact of living away from home is often associated with students, parents also experience significant changes.

They feel the shift too. The independence is bittersweet. “I feel disturbed and unhappy but the other side of me feels good and happy while I continue to pray for him” Hajiya Hau’wa, whose son studies in Kano while the family lives in Niger said.

Aisha, a mother of a university student, said, “When she calls, complaining about school or being sick and lonely, it breaks my heart that I can’t be there. I’ve had to learn to let her go with prayers and constantly checking up on her.”

Communication becomes a lifeline. Most parents check in daily, not just to monitor progress but to maintain an emotional connection. Yet, not all students appreciate the frequent calls.

Nana, who studies accounting at Nassarawa State University said; ” Constant calls from my parents tend to be stressful. I’m trying to manage their expectations while also focusing on my studies”

Leaving the comfort of home for campus life is more than a transition. It’s a transformation. It’s about stepping into a version of yourself that only distance, responsibility and independence can bring.

It’s where growth happens. You learn to stand on your own, make your own choices and live with the outcome.

There will be days of loneliness, moments of doubt, and nights when home feels like a world away. But there will also be victories. Big and small that will build your confidence.

Faiza Aliyu Farouk is a 400-level Mass Communication student at Bayero University Kano (BUK).

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

As Nigeria clocks 65 years of independence, one would expect a moment of pride and reflection on remarkable achievements. Yet, the reality on the ground tells a different story. 

The country continues to struggle with corruption, poverty, unemployment, inadequate infrastructure, insecurity, and a range of other social issues. These issues cut deep into the daily lives of ordinary Nigerians, making access to basic necessities and opportunities for growth a constant struggle.

For many citizens, there is little reason to roll out the drums. Independence anniversaries are usually a time for celebration, but how can we truly celebrate when millions remain jobless, when insecurity still holds communities hostage, when hospitals lack basic equipment, and when roads remain death traps? The weight of these problems overshadows whatever progress has been made.

This does not mean Nigeria has no potential or that the sacrifices of our founding fathers should be ignored. Leaders like Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, who gave Nigeria a voice of dignity on the global stage, or the Sardauna of Sokoto, Ahmadu Bello, who worked to strengthen education and unity in the North, envisioned a better future for this country. 

Chief Obafemi Awolowo’s free education policy in the West and Chief MKO Abiola’s ultimate sacrifice for democracy remain powerful reminders of what true leadership and patriotism demand. These men stood for a Nigeria that could rise above selfishness and mediocrity.

But after 65 years, Nigerians deserve more than repeated promises and underdevelopment. We deserve a country where leadership prioritises people, where accountability is more than just a slogan, and where citizens can genuinely take pride in the flag they carry.

So, if there is something worth celebrating at 65, perhaps it is the resilience of Nigerians themselves —the spirit that refuses to give up despite everything. Beyond that, the truth is clear: the road ahead requires serious action, not mere rhetoric.

May Nigeria succeed and prosper. Amin.

Muhammad Umar Shehu, who wrote from Gombe, can be reached via umarmuhammadshehu2@gmail.com.

By Bashir Abubakar Umar 

Malaria remains one of the world’s most persistent public health challenges, particularly in tropical and subtropical regions. To gather more information about the disease, I contacted Dr Musa Muhammad Bello, who works with Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital (AKTH) in the Department of Community Medicine. It is a life-threatening disease caused by parasites of the Plasmodium genus, transmitted to humans through the bites of infected female Anopheles mosquitoes.

Despite advances in medicine and public health campaigns, malaria continues to claim hundreds of thousands of lives each year, with children under five and pregnant women among the most vulnerable groups.

Infection with Plasmodium falciparum, P. vivax, P. ovale, or P. malariae primarily causes the disease. The infection begins when an infected mosquito bites a person, releasing parasites into the bloodstream. These parasites travel to the liver, where they mature and multiply before re-entering the bloodstream to infect red blood cells.

Malaria is not spread directly from person to person; instead, it requires the mosquito as a vector. However, it can also be transmitted through blood transfusions, organ transplants, or from an infected mother to her child during pregnancy.

Symptoms of malaria typically appear 7 to 10 days after infection. Early signs include fever, chills, headaches, muscle aches, sweating, body weakness, vomiting, diarrhoea, and a change in taste. In severe cases, the disease can lead to anaemia, respiratory distress, organ failure, and even death if left untreated. Diagnosis is usually confirmed through laboratory methods, such as microscopic examination of blood smears or rapid diagnostic tests, which detect malaria antigens in the blood.

Malam Abdurrahman, a resident of Dorayi Babba, said that the mosquitoes used to bite him not only at night, but he also advises the general public to use nets for prevention.

Prevention is the most effective way to reduce malaria cases and deaths. Sleeping under insecticide-treated mosquito nets can significantly reduce the risk of being bitten at night, while indoor residual spraying kills mosquitoes that rest inside homes.

Eliminating stagnant water, clearing drainage systems, using window and door nets, applying body lotion, and fumigation are all measures that help reduce mosquito breeding grounds. In some high-risk regions, preventive antimalarial medication is recommended for vulnerable groups, including pregnant women, children under 5, and foreigners.

Hajiya Rabi’a, a resident of Tudun Yola, said that the mosquitoes prevent her from sleeping at night due to their bites, even when she is in a net.

Treatment for malaria depends on the type of Plasmodium parasite and the severity of the infection. Artemisinin-based combination therapies are currently the most effective treatments for P. falciparum malaria, which is the most dangerous form. Early and proper treatment is essential to prevent severe illness and to help break the cycle of transmission.

The global impact of malaria remains significant. According to the World Health Organisation, Africa accounts for more than 90% of malaria cases and deaths worldwide. Beyond its toll on health, the disease hampers economic development by reducing productivity, increasing healthcare costs, and deepening poverty in affected communities.

Although malaria is both preventable and treatable, it persists due to environmental factors, limited healthcare access, and poverty in many areas. A continuous global effort is essential, combining prevention methods, effective treatment, public education, and ongoing vaccine research. With dedication and coordinated actions, the world can progress towards eradicating malaria and creating healthier, safer communities.

Bashir Abubakar Umar wrote via baabum2002@gmail.com.

By Khalid Imam

Today, it is undeniable that only a handful of Nigerian workers’ unions genuinely care about or operate in the overall interest of their collective members without brazenly exploiting (or, if you like, say, robbing) their loyal members, who pay through their skin all union dues monthly, year in and year out. The leadership of these seemingly monopolistic and rigid unions often lives flamboyantly, like kings, in the public glare at the expense of their poorly paid or oppressed members. Mostly, we only hear the phrase “injury to one, injury to all” as a slogan, drummed up by greedy leadership when it fits their vested interests, not those of dutiful Nigerian workers. 

For instance, I have been paying NUT/ASSU dues nonstop for over 20 years now without any appreciable benefits – no workshops, nothing. Despite formally withdrawing my membership, along with other colleagues, our deductions continue to this day by the said self-serving unions, which have been overseeing the collapse of the education system for decades. This lack of freedom to associate or not, plus serious issues of accountability, raises many questions about unions’ purpose and continued relevance in the fast-changing world and strategic economic competitions and innovations we are witnessing, as Nigerians, in other sane nations now strategising to lead in industrialisation, investment, technology, and science, especially in artificial intelligence and artificial super intelligence.

One may ask: Are unions advocating for their members’ rights and welfare, or are they simply enriching only the vultures parading as their leaders? The answers to these questions are evident. Now more than ever before, Nigeria requires a radical systemic overhaul of the whole labour union system and operation, to ensure even unions and the country are rescued from the hawks called labour union leaders, if indeed the unions are to serve their foundation purposes – protecting members’ welfare, etc and helping to develop our betrayed and badly raped country, not enriching insatiable individuals living extravagantly unchecked.

Without genuine reform, unions like those fighting the Dangote Refinery now may continue to hold the entire country hostage. Patriotic Nigerian unionists must wake up from their docility to fight to save our unions. Subjecting all labour unions to public scrutiny should be our collective duty as citizens. Now, if any union with strategic responsibility fails to innovate, it should not blame anyone when it risks losing credibility and relevance in the scheme of things.

We must resist any attempt by any union to insist that Nigeria must live in the past, or Nigerians will continue to suffer in long queues buying fuel at a high cost. The world is fast-changing and innovating; the earlier our so-called labour unions wake up to these realities, the better. Change can’t wait for anyone, and Nigeria must reform to develop.

My sincere advice to serious investors like Dangote is that they should refrain from engaging in verbal battles or heated exchanges with PENGASSAN, etc., and instead focus on effectively mitigating their excesses by boldly advocating for a comprehensive overhaul of trade union laws in the country. There is no harm in pushing for new legislative bills or fighting hard in courtrooms to silence corrupt union leaders shouting about workers’ rights to join unions, all in the pretence of saving Nigerian workers from enslavement. Who is enslaving employees in the real sense: the oligarchy that hijacked the unions or employers striving to create more jobs for our teeming jobless youths while contributing billions to our national treasury? Aren’t most domestic union leaders, in some cases, in the forefront of enslaving Nigerian workers by living lavish lives with their union’s funds?

Yes, let there be unions, but not exploitative and monopolistic ones. I repeat, let there be unions, but not ones that block the country from progressive developments and innovative transformations, like the one we have witnessed with the arrival of the Dangote Refinery. Flexible labour union laws are the water and fertilisers Nigeria needs now. The Dangote refinery represents a significant step forward not only for Nigeria’s economic growth and development but also for Africa as a whole. Unions should support such initiatives rather than hindering them with outdated and rigid labour market laws.

At a time in the US President Trump, was and still woos American tech giant investors like the owner of Facebook to the White House to discuss the future of America, as a Nigerian with Nigeria first in my heart, I urge my President, Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu, to act as a strategic leader he has been since his days as governor of Lagos state. The President, more than any other person, now has an onerous duty not to allow unionists to prostrate national heroes like Dangote.

PBAT must, in the overall interest of present and future generations of Nigerians, wade in to champion flexible labour union market reforms. This is the best time, presenting him with a rare opportunity to put Nigeria first and attract numerous patriotic investments, not just from visionaries like Dangote, but from both domestic and international investors. Clinging to outdated and rigid labour laws is detrimental to our economy both now and in the future.

The flexibility of labour laws in countries like Germany and China has contributed to their economic stability and China’s soaring dominance amidst global competition. Nigeria should draw valuable lessons from these nations rather than adhering to outdated British-style labour laws that have hindered the UK’s economy from soaring like an eagle.

Finally, I invite all patriotic Nigerians to reject exploitative and monopolistic unions. Dangote is a national asset! His refinery is also a national asset. Dangote, too, must put Nigeria first, always. We have a duty to protect both Dangote and his refinery from vultures who have held our country captive for decades. May God bless Nigeria, Dangote, and his Refinery. Amin.

Imam is a Kano-based published writer of over two dozen books, a teacher, and an Art Administrator. He can be reached via email at khalidimam2002@gmail.com.

By Bashir Jelani, PhD

It has been trending over the past two days that Boko Haram killed more than 500,000 Christians and burned 18,0000 churches in Nigeria since 2009. Local and international news media are spreading false information that Muslims are carrying out ethnic cleansing against Christians. 

Till now, no news media from Arewa has debunked this news. No Arewa intellectual, writer, or public figure responded to this. It is a big shame on us. Thanks to Femi Fani-Kayode for sincerely putting the record straight.

This phoney propaganda did not start today. Some insincere Nigerian Christians have been working hard to blackmail Muslims on the international stage. I don’t know what they want to get by fabricating that fake news. The dead silence from Arewa is what makes this misleading information gain momentum. 

I have debated this issue with Christian friends for many years. I have maintained that the majority of the victims of Boko Haram and bandits are the Muslims themselves. The Boko Haram terrorists do not spare Muslims. They don’t care about your religion. 

Boko Haram wouldn’t be operating in Northern Nigeria if its target were to cleanse Christians. I sympathise with some Christians who were affected, but the truth is that the Muslims are Boko Haram’s target. That is why they do their evil atrocities in the Muslim dominated regions, mainly killing Muslims.

Arewa needs to wake up. Debunking this dangerous propaganda is very important.

By Abdulrahman M. Abu-Yaman 

The title race is between two horses and a little horse that needs milk and needs to learn how to jump. –  Jose Mourinho

When the controversial Jose Mourinho made this statement above, it was about football and the race to the Premier League title in 2014, but we never knew a time would come when it would be more suitable to fit into the Nigerian political context as it relates to the switch and frequent change of allegiance from one political party to another.

THE FIRST HORSE

The first horse, being the All Progressives Congress (APC), is the current defending champion in political power and the acclaimed favourite to retain the presidential title going into 2027, based on the power and influence that come with being an incumbent leader in Nigeria. Only once has it occurred since the fourth republic that an incumbent was defeated, and even that took what some have tagged as a miracle when President Jonathan made the famous call to the late former President Muhammadu Buhari (of blessed memory) and conceded. 

This horse has taken on different forms over the years and has been given various names by the political power brokers who have bet on it to win. Part of its defunct origin was the All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP), formed in 1998, a year before the fourth republic general elections. However, its popularity was quite limited to the northern part of Nigeria, not as pronounced in other regions of the country. Former President Muhammadu Buhari had contested twice and lost under the ANPP in 2003 and 2007, respectively.

Another major segment of its primordial origins emerged from the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), which was formed in 2006. It was formerly known as the Action Congress, which in turn was formed from the merger of its factions with minor political parties, including the Alliance for Democracy (AD), the Justice Party (JP), and the Advanced Congress of Democrats (ACD), among others.

Then came the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), founded in 2009. It gained significant influence due to the impact of late Muhammadu Buhari and his millions of supporters in the northern part of Nigeria, who contested under the party’s platform in the 2011 elections. 

In 2013, the progressives and congresses in some major political parties with these words present in their acronym merged into one; the Action Congress of Nigeria, Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), a faction of the All Progressive Grand Alliance and finally, the All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP) to form the All Progressives Congress (APC) – the most formidable opposition group as a party in Nigeria since the return to democracy in 1999 to unseat any incumbent President in power.

THE SECOND HORSE(S)

The second horse(s) in the race are obviously divided and sharing that position based on recent trajectories and events that had left one of the horses deemed as second favourite to crumble and hanging on a thin thread; speaking of the Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP), as long as it still has time to regroup and put its house in order, it cannot be ruled out of the race based on its political structure long established that cuts across all states in Nigeria.

The PDP was formed in 1998, in the twilight leading up to the 1999 general elections, by a group of political bigwigs who adopted Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, a former military head of state and a prisoner released from the dungeon after the end of the Abacha era. Obasanjo, coming from the south-west region of the country, was seen by many as the best candidate to step into what would have been Chief MKO Abiola’s rightful position as winner of the annulled June 12 elections if he had lived up to 1999 but for his sad and shocking demise in 1998.

The PDP won the 1999 election by a majority of votes and held a majority of seats in the National Assembly. In 2003, the party continued to dominate the political space in Nigeria, growing in influence and power, albeit under some questionable electioneering processes in 2003, 2007 and 2011, respectively, having spent sixteen years in power as the ruling party. During that period, it became the largest party not only in Nigeria but also on the African continent.

However, unfortunately for the PDP, their dream of achieving the milestone of twenty years in power was cut short in 2015 when the APC, a new, formidable force energised and regrouped, ran them out of control. 

Since then, the PDP has contested twice as an opposition party and lost to the APC in 2019 and 2023, but edged them out in 2015. The PDP has also had to lose some of its members who have decamped to the APC and has since struggled to remain as firm and relevant as it once was. The only reason it occupies the second spot as a favourite is its longevity, structural base, and the influence of some stakeholders behind the corridors of power, who are still salvaging what is left to stand firm.

Moving away from the PDP, the other second favourite only came to fruition and gained traction a few months ago, orchestrated by one man, Mal. Nasir El-Rufai, who initiated the movement that led to the formation of a coalition that later evolved into the political party rebranded as the African Democratic Congress (ADC). The party had been in existence before its formation in 2005 as the Alliance for Democratic Change. 

The formation of the ADC elicited mixed reactions in the Nigerian political space. While some saw it as the long-awaited vibrant opposition to challenge the incumbent party in power, others viewed it as a selfish endeavour created by those who had been bruised and pushed out of the epicentre of power, seeking to make a comeback by any means necessary. This notion was proven to be more relevant when the ADC reached out to past or aggrieved members of the APC and PDP to form part of its board and core membership from the official flag-off. 

Nevertheless, it is still considered the second favourite in the race because if history is anything to go by, just as in the words of Jesse Jackson: 

“In politics, an organised minority is a political majority”

Just as in the case of the APC, which was formed two years short of the 2015 elections and later emerged as the winner, the regrouped ADC party and its influx of new members can’t be underestimated.  

Another reason the ADC could be frontrunners could be their ability to capitalise on the harsh economic realities in the country that have affected the masses and present the party as an alternative to better their welfare, just as the same members of the ADC did way back in 2015 when they were members of the APC, which they now want to substitute out of power. 

THE LITTLE HORSE IN THE RACE

The little horse that needs milk to learn how to jump is the Labour Party (LP). It was also driven and triggered to relevance in the 2023 general elections due to the influence of one man, specifically Peter Obi, who was spoken of as the party’s flag bearer. The LP not only defeated the APC in their own stronghold in Lagos but also defeated the ruling party in the Federal Capital Territory, Nigeria’s capital and centre of governance. It was unprecedented and sent a clear message that the LP did not just come to make up the numbers like some minority parties. 

But be that as it may, their numbers in Lagos and Abuja, coupled with the ones from the east and the Niger Delta region, were not enough to put them in second position in the race. This is why it needs to spread its wings to cover all political nooks and crannies in other regions, especially northern Nigeria, where it is yet to get a solid grip.

The recent involvement of Peter Obi with the ADC could lead to a compromise and weaken the party’s strength, as it revolves around him. One of the LP’s former spokesmen also lamented him for not doing enough as a leader and his inability to resolve the party’s internal crisis. He also raised concerns about his failure to build a strong party base to secure the mandate. 

Still, the only reason the LP is coming in third in the horse race is because of the unexpected stunt it pulled and its potential to do more if, and only if, it can capitalise on its momentum to leap ahead like other horses in the race.

THE EXODUS AND CONVENIENT SWITCH BETWEEN PARTIES 

Nigerian politics and politicians tend to switch sides to any political party that offers them a higher chance of winning. It occurred in 1999, when the PDP was formed and founded by members of various political parties. 

In 2003, as the PDP grew in strength and power, it received more members, and others had to decamp from their prior political platforms to join it. It was beginning to look like the only way to win an election was to join the party that was already winning. 

2007 and 2011 were no different as the PDP retained power in government. However, the only parties that managed to maintain some of their strongest and most popular members were the ANPP in 2003/2007, and the CPC in the 2011 general elections, when they fielded Muhammadu Buhari as their presidential candidate in the respective years.

In the buildup to the 2015 election, a massive exodus of politicians decamped from the ‘umbrella’ that had sheltered them in political office to the newly formed APC, which was gaining immense popularity, especially in the northern and western parts of Nigeria. The presidential flag bearer was a familiar figure who was contesting for the fourth and possibly his last attempt, having been persuaded to do so. The APC, like the PDP in the past, also welcomed all members from other parties, irrespective of their past reputation or allegations while in office. In the end, the party grew from being the strongest opposition to becoming the favourite to win the election, which they eventually did.

LOST OF POLITICAL IDEOLOGIES/IDENTITIES

When we start seeing political players decamping at will, it is time to question whether any of the political parties place a high premium on their criteria for membership in relation to their ideologies before accepting any candidate into their fold. Do politicians care any less if the party they join aligns with their manifestos and visionary blueprint for good governance and leadership?

It is beginning to look like a game of chess, with calculated moves aimed at checkmating the ultimate power in the political positions they crave. The only pawns in this game are the masses who have yet to figure out that changing their clothes to another has nothing to do with the real person behind those clothes. A stained reputation, especially in previous leadership positions, coupled with a proven track record of underperformance and incompetence, cannot be covered by new political platforms.

However, the interesting aspect of all this is the emergence of a solid opposition to keep the ruling parties on their toes. Previously, with the decline and crisis in the PDP, Nigeria was moving towards a single-party state due to the frequent switch of its members to joining the APC. It is well timed that the LED coalition, which has resolved to adopt the ADC as its political platform, includes big names like former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, who is also a former PDP presidential aspirant. Peter Obi, the Labour Party’s presidential candidate, has also been seen and involved in some of their meetings. And for the first time since the APC’s ascension to power, they seem concerned about the growing popularity of the ADC and the threat it may pose to their hold on power. Deja vu?

Conclusively, all the parties involved in the horse race have exhibited similar symptoms of identity and ideological crisis in their consistent switch of allegiance to suit their needs. The thin line between them is getting blurrier in their actions and adoptions. Everyone is welcome to any party at any time. No litmus test, exceptional integrity, or individual evaluation criteria needed. Once you are in, all sins are forgiven, and then you are baptised as a new member. 

The ADC is not only like the APC alphabetically, but also in the content of its members and its contextual existence. The primary concern here is whether some members of the ADC could potentially break away from the party in the future, particularly in the event of any unresolved disagreement or fallout within the party. Are we to brace ourselves for another hypothetical ‘ABC’ party if it comes to that? Time is the ultimate revealer. 

By Alhassan Hassan Salihu

Few men leave a mark on society without holding office, wearing a uniform, or carrying authority. Bala Muhammad is not just a media scholar; he is a guardian of culture, discipline, and an architect of greatness.

In the early 2000s, Kano’s streets were alive with sound and colour. Markets bustled, commercial tricycles darted through traffic, and the rhythm of daily life carried on as it had for generations. But beneath the energy, a different reality was taking shape, one of disorder.

Road signs were ignored. Tricycle drivers cut across lanes at will. Pedestrians crossed wherever they pleased. Public order, once a matter of pride, seemed to be slipping away.

A renowned but marked by growing disorder, congestion, and a fragile sense of control that hinted at deeper challenges ahead.

It was in this climate that a quiet movement began, not through the force of law or the threat of arrest, but through the power of a voice. That voice belonged to Bala Muhammad.

A respected media scholar, newspaper columnist, and familiar voice on the radio, Bala had built a reputation for delivering reasoned and honest commentary. People trusted him because he spoke plainly and honestly. He explained ideas without lecturing, and he criticised without insulting.

When Malam Ibrahim Shekarau-led Kano State Government launched a programme called A Daidaita Sahu, meaning “straighten the public order” in Hausa, it aimed to restore discipline and order in public life. Many regarded it as just another government slogan that would soon fade away.

Bala saw something else; to him, “A Daidaita Sahu” was not just a policy, but a chance to change the city’s mindset.

He took to the airwaves, writing and speaking about the programme in a way the public could connect with. His columns carried titles like “DISCIPLINE AS A WAY OF LIFE”, “THE ORDERLINESS WE LOST”, and “ADAIDAITA SAHU: OUR CULTURAL RETURN.”

But instead of listing rules, he told stories. He spoke of a time when people queued without being told, when elders were given seats on buses without being asked, and when the street belonged to everyone, not just to the loudest or most aggressive.

His message was clear: public order was not something foreign. It was part of Hausa culture and Islamic tradition. It was part of the city’s heritage.

Bala’s campaign was not limited to print and broadcast. He visited mosques, speaking after Friday prayers. He went to motor parks, markets, and universities. Everywhere he went, his refrain was the same: “A Daidaita Sahu is not politics. It is a mirror showing us what we are supposed to be.”

At first, some thought he was being idealistic. But slowly, change began to appear; Tricycle drivers started queueing properly at parks, and street vendors kept their stalls cleaner. 

Schools invited him to speak to students about discipline and respect. These changes were not the result of fines or enforcement. They came because people were reminded of their own values.

Bala’s approach was simple but powerful: it shows people that discipline is not an enemy of freedom, but the framework that makes freedom possible.

Over time, the city’s atmosphere began to shift. Kano remained vibrant, but there was less chaos. The A Daidaita Sahu movement grew into one of the most ambitious civic initiatives in the state’s history. Its real success, however, was not in official reports, but in the everyday behaviour of ordinary people!

Bala Muhammad had no power to arrest, fine, or shut down businesses. All he had was a pen, a microphone, and an unshakable belief that people could rise to a higher standard when reminded of their shared culture and faith.

That belief proved stronger than any law.

By the height of the movement, Bala was more than a commentator. He had become a trusted voice in Kano, a voice that seemed to walk alongside people on the streets, even when he was not physically there.

A Daidaita Sahu’s story is proof that lasting change does not always begin with authority or force. Sometimes, it starts with one person speaking to the hearts of the people, telling them that they already have what it takes to live better.

Years later, many still recall the movement. Some remember the radio programmes. Others remember hearing Dr Bala at their local mosque or market. Still others remember reading his words in the newspaper and feeling proud of their city again.

His legacy is a reminder that you can write laws, but without public belief, they remain words on paper. True order comes when people take ownership of it.

Kano in the early 2000s was a noisy, restless, and often chaotic place. The city’s energy was undeniable, but it lacked direction, with disorder slowly eroding its social fabric. It was during this period that Dr Bala, through patience, wisdom, and unwavering conviction, helped the city rediscover a sense of balance. He guided it back to a rhythm rooted in respect, discipline, and communal harmony, restoring hope and dignity to everyday life.

Not with force, not with fear, but with faith; faith that the people of Kano could remember who they were and live up to it.

Let’s do it again!!!

Bala Muhammad demonstrated that respect, patience, and order were not Western imports; they were Hausa and Islamic values, deeply rooted in our identity.

He’s not just a man of letters; he is a man of legacy, who turned words into movement, and movement into memory.

By Umar Sani Adamu

The Almajiri system, once a noble pursuit of Islamic knowledge, has degenerated into a humanitarian disaster spread across Northern Nigeria. From the streets of Kano to the slums of Sokoto, thousands of children wander barefoot, hungry, and hopeless victims of a tradition that has outlived its purpose.

The idea behind Almajiranci was simple: young boys, mostly from rural or poor families, would be sent to Islamic scholars for religious education. But over time, what began as a pathway to learning became a pipeline to poverty, abuse, and neglect. Today, these children beg for survival, live in unhygienic conditions, and face constant exposure to criminality and exploitation.

Every year, thousands more are pushed into this cycle. With no formal curriculum, no sanitation, no feeding structure, and no monitoring, the system violates every principle of child welfare and human dignity. Many of these almajiris live in overcrowded, unventilated rooms, sometimes as many as 18 children in a single space, with no access to health care, no protection, and no future.

While governments talk reform, very little action meets the urgency. Integration programs are underfunded, religious institutions are left unchecked, and families often forced by poverty continue to submit their children to this outdated system. Meanwhile, the streets of Northern Nigeria grow more unsafe as vulnerable children are manipulated by extremist groups and criminal syndicates.

Let’s be clear: the Almajiri system, in its current form, is not education. It is abandonment. It is state-sanctioned child endangerment masquerading as religion. Any society that claims moral or spiritual uprightness cannot continue to tolerate this level of systemic neglect.

What Northern Nigeria needs is not a patchwork of reforms, but a complete overhaul. Islamic education should be formalised, monitored, and integrated into the broader national curriculum. Children should learn in safe environments where Qur’anic knowledge is integrated with literacy, numeracy, hygiene, and vocational training. Religious scholars must be trained, certified, and held accountable.

Above all, we must shift the responsibility from children back to adults. Governments, communities, parents, and religious leaders must admit the system has failed and work together to end it. The Almajiri child deserves more than survival. He deserves dignity, opportunity, and a future.

This is not just a social concern. It is a national emergency.

Umar Sani Adamu can be reached via umarhashidu1994@gmail.com

By Aisha Musa Auyo

The second story that inspired this reflection is the death of an acquaintance. She was the HR of a company that once offered me a job as an editor. We had exchanged emails, and I went there in person to explain why I couldn’t take up the role. That first visit also turned out to be my last. The company’s owner is a friend, so it was easy to discuss things openly.

After hearing me out, she understood my situation as a young mother. She said she had once been in my shoes and offered some warm advice, assuring me that the company would always welcome me if I were ready in the future. As I was about to leave, she asked about the fragrance I was wearing. She said, “The whole office is filled with your scent. It’s so calming.”

I explained that it wasn’t a regular perfume but Turaren Wuta (incense) and humra. She smiled and said she was familiar with them but had never come across such heavenly scents before. I promised to send her some to try.

It was a casual conversation, but I took it to heart. I packed black and white humra with some incense and gave them to my driver for delivery, as I was travelling at the time. Days turned into weeks, with excuse after excuse from him. When I called her, she said she never got his call, and even if she wasn’t around, he could have left the package at the office.

Back from my trip, I retrieved the parcel and handed it to another driver. Again, excuses. Frustrated, I shared my ordeal with a family member. She dismissed my worry: “You’re overreacting. This woman has probably forgotten about the incense. She doesn’t owe you anything. Why stress yourself over this?”

But deep down, I couldn’t let it go. Something urged me on. I said, “Whatever it takes, I’ll do this delivery myself, I insisted. The family member teased me, calling me stubborn, “Aisha kina da naci wallahi, kin damu kowa a kan abin da ba shi da mahimmanci”. I said na ji. It felt as though everything, including the universe, was determined to stop me from sending that gift.

Finally, when I demanded the second driver return the parcel so I could deliver it personally, he apologised and promised to take it that week. Two days later, she sent me a message, thanking me warmly. She said, “It was worth the wait.” I apologised for the delay, and that was the last time we spoke.

This week, I received the news of her death. She had been battling a heart condition. I remembered how she once mentioned wanting to lose weight for health reasons. My heart sank. I prayed for her soul and felt profoundly grateful that I had managed to give her something she wanted before her passing. Suddenly, I understood why my instincts had been so insistent.

The lesson is clear: never postpone kindness. Please do it now, because tomorrow is never promised.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in educational psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting, and a relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.