Opinion

By Misbahu El-Hamza

A few weeks ago, the HQ Nigerian Army announced the recovery of the remains of two officers, Master Warrant Officer Linus Musa Audu and Private Gloria Mathew, who were “brutally abducted and murdered by IPOB/ESN terrorists in May 2022 while travelling for their traditional wedding.”

I felt some relief for their families. At least they can now properly bury their loved ones and finally let go of the painful uncertainty of whether they were still alive.

But the report also reopened my grief for our lost friend, Hamza Ibrahim.

Hamza was my university coursemate and a very close friend. He and I often confided in each other. After university, he joined the Nigerian Army and later rose to the rank of Lieutenant. He was serving with a unit in Ogoja, Cross River State.

On July 2, 2023, Hamza disappeared while travelling from Abia to Anambra State.

Since then, we have not heard from him. Not by the Nigerian Army. Not by his grieving wife. Not by his father, who died last year, carrying the pain of not knowing what happened to his son. And not by any of us, his friends.

A few months after Hamza went missing, I led a group of our classmates to visit his wife at her family home in Kano. At the time, she was nursing their second child, just a few months old.

Her last memory of Hamza was a phone call on the day he disappeared.

He told her he suspected he was being followed. During the call, he asked whether their daughters were awake and told her to pray for him. She said he sounded unusually tense. That was the last time she heard his voice.

Then, on March 22, 2025, she was invited to his unit in Cross River State and handed a condolence letter and a death certificate.

“That was the worst day of my life,” she recalled.

Yet she still does not believe her husband is dead.

“I have spoken to many of his friends in the Army, and no one can clearly say what happened to Hamza,” she told me.

I once asked whether she or anyone around the family suspected IPOB/ESN involvement. She replied that if such groups had killed him, at least there would have been a body.

She referenced the killing of their family doctor, an Igbo military officer whose body, according to her, was left behind after IPOB/ESN shot him dead.

But in Hamza’s case, she said there was no trace. No confirmed scene. Nobody. Nothing.

To this day, she said many of his military friends still describe his disappearance as a mystery.

It has now been more than two years since we lost Captain Hamza Ibrahim. Ten days after he disappeared, he was promoted in absentia.

And although his wife officially received his death certificate nearly 20 months after that final phone call, she still hopes that one day she and her two daughters will wake up and see their husband and father return home. 

“Allah Ya bayyana mana gaskiya, Ya tona asirin duk wanda yake da hannu a cikin ɓatan shi,” (May Allah reveal the truth and expose whoever had a hand in his disappearance), she said in a broken voice as we were about to leave their house.

For me, it is painful to finally write about Hamza.

One thing I will always remember about him was his compassion toward me. Whenever I ran out of food at the university, Hamza would take me to his room and cook for us. I still remember when he handed me a crisp ₦500 note to buy food and kerosene. That kindness is something I can never forget.

I wanted to write about him shortly after he disappeared, but his wife asked me not to because she had been instructed not to speak to the media, and I respected that. But after reading the Nigerian Army’s report on the recovery of two missing officers, I could no longer keep this painful story to myself.

By Isyaka Laminu Badamasi

As political parties in the country gear up to conduct primary elections in preparation for the 2027 general elections, they should ensure strict adherence to the laid-down procedures put in place by electoral acts and those of their parties to avoid further internal wranglings and legal tussles that will ultimately harm the party’s chances of winning the election or maintaining victory in courts. 

The process adopted by some political parties in some states for selecting the party’s flag bearers for different posts exposes how stakeholders underestimate voters’ power by fielding candidates who are far below the electorate’s goodwill and requirements for winning elections. 

The electoral acts recognise only two processes that political parties can follow in conducting primary elections: direct primaries, which allow party card-carrying members to elect their candidates, or consensus, which allows contestants to withdraw their contests and announce their support for one person among themselves. 

As seen in many states that adopt the consensus process in selecting their candidates and the issues that followed so far, it is clear that stakeholders neglect the powers of voters by anointing persons with questionable political values as their preferred candidates without considering the legal implications of such decisions (remember Zamfara state) or the electoral values of the persons they selected.

If public acceptance and popularity are the selling points of any politician, then some candidates do not possess the qualities of a counsellor, but present themselves as gubernatorial aspirants, either because they can afford the nomination forms and want to trend and remain relevant in the scheme of things or because they are playing a deceitful game in the event of joining the negotiations table.

While appealing for a peaceful conduct of free and fair process from the remaining political parties that are yet to conduct their primaries, they should also be mindful of the people they will present for elections, as winning elections do not limited to the platform (political party), it is about goodwill, clear and practicable manifesto and the electoral values of the persons they presented as their flag bearers. 

To the electorate, they should ensure their voter cards are accessible. To those who do not possess the ‘electoral weapon’, the third phase of the Continued Voter Registration (CVR) will commence today, Monday, 11th May 2026, and end on Friday, 10th July 2026. During this period, eligible citizens who have reached the age of 18, as well as those who were unable to register in earlier phases, should seize this opportunity to do so.

We at the Initiatives for Sustainable Development (I4SD) are committed to ensuring free, fair and peaceful conduct of the 2027 general elections in the country. 

Isyaka Laminu Badamasi is of No 555, Ajiya Adamu Road, Bauchi, Bauchi State.

By Muhd El-Bonga Ibraheem

Founded in 2022 as the first private university in Gombe State, North-Eastern University has rapidly emerged as one of the most ambitious and forward-looking institutions in Northern Nigeria. The university was established to bridge several educational gaps, and since its inception, it has continued to grow from strength to strength across nearly all facets of academic and institutional development. 

In barely a few years, the university has distinguished itself through academic excellence, infrastructural expansion, research, technological innovation, and professional accreditation, positioning Gombe State as an emerging hub for higher education and specialised professional training.

Most notably among its many milestones, the university recently recorded a landmark achievement with the successful securing of full accreditation for its Architecture programme by the Architects Registration Council of Nigeria (ARCON). This accreditation confirms that the programme meets the national professional standards for architectural education in Nigeria and enables graduates to proceed toward professional registration as architects. More significantly, North-Eastern University, Gombe, following my recent interaction with its Deputy Vice Chancellor—my brother, Prof. Sani Isyaka—is currently the only university in the entire North East region with full ARCON accreditation, and one of only three universities in northern Nigeria to possess this distinction. This milestone places both the institution and Gombe State at the forefront of architectural education and built-environment training in the region.

Additionally, although still in its fledgling stage, the university has demonstrated an admirable pace of growth and institutional development. For instance, it was the first among the newly licensed private universities to commence academic activities in the 2022/2023 academic session and quickly became the first institution to fully implement the National Universities Commission’s Core Curriculum and Minimum Academic Standards (CCMAS). This magnificent feat subsequently earned the university a Gold Medal for successfully completing all CCMAS development stages within its first year of operation, alongside a distinction rating in the NUC’s Virtual Institute for Capacity Building in Higher Education trainings.

Today, thanks to persistent efforts, the university runs 27 undergraduate programmes across four faculties, 16 departments, 7 directorates, 1 academy, and 2 centres, all approved by the National Universities Commission (NUC). Over the years, the young university has witnessed an exponential rise in enrolment, with its diverse student population across many strata of society growing rapidly to about 2,000 undergraduates, making it one of the fastest-growing private universities in the North East sub-region. To accommodate these growing numbers, the university recently passed a resource verification exercise by the NUC for the creation of new, highly sought-after undergraduate programs in Artificial Intelligence and Information Systems, as well as a Doctor of Pharmacy (Pharm D).

What particularly sets the institution apart is its investment in research and specialised facilities. Recently, the university established the Centre for African Medicinal Plants Research, equipped with advanced laboratories dedicated to natural products research, microbiology, synthesis, and pharmaceutical formulation. It also houses specialised scientific facilities rarely found in many universities across the country.

Given the pervasive rise in technology integration, especially in the post-COVID-19 era, the institution has equally prioritised technology-driven learning and global academic engagement. Through its CISCO Academy and the adoption of the Octopus Learning Management System, the university has embraced blended learning supported by several online learning platforms. It has also established research and academic collaborations with globally recognised institutions, including the University of Surrey, Universiti Teknologi Malaysia, and several others across Africa and beyond.

As a mark of excellence, following several tours whenever I visit the school, the university equally boasts of fully furnished lecture halls, auditoria, solar-powered electricity, science laboratories, Mass Communication studios, an Architecture studio, Moot Court facilities, modern hostels, ICT centres, and the state-of-the-art Justice Abubakar Jauro Law Library. Nonetheless, ongoing campus expansion projects, beautification initiatives, and student-friendly facilities further reinforce its commitment to creating a modern academic environment.

In many respects, the rise of North-Eastern University symbolises the growing educational and intellectual aspirations of the North East sub-region. Through strategic investment in quality education, research, infrastructure, and professional standards, the university is increasingly building a reputation as one of Nigeria’s emerging centres of academic excellence. 

With the massive development the university has experienced in virtually all dimensions over the past few years, amid sustained momentum of outstanding achievements, the university aims to achieve the founder’s long-term vision of becoming one of the best universities in Nigeria within the next 10 to 15 years.

El-Bonga can be reached via miabba40@gmail.com. 

By Aremu Haroon Abiodun

Let me begin with clarity and sincerity. I write this not as a partisan actor, not as a loyalist of any political party, and certainly not as a hired megaphone for any candidate. I write from the standpoint of an analyst, a student of democratic behaviour, and a public relations strategist who understands that politics is not only about power; it is also about perception, timing, trust, and structure.

This piece is not designed to insult President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, attack the ruling APC, mock the opposition, or discredit any politician. Rather, it is an honest attempt to interrogate one of the most defining questions of Nigeria’s approaching democratic race: Is the new coalition a movement of salvation or merely a market of ambition?

In every democracy, coalitions can either rescue nations or ruin trust. In Africa, where democracy is still battling poverty, elite capture, and personality politics, the answer matters deeply. Across the continent, from Kenya to South Africa, Senegal to Zimbabwe, fragmented opposition groups often unite to challenge incumbents. Sometimes they succeed; sometimes they collapse under the weight of ego and suspicion.

Coalitions are usually built on five promises: to rescue the nation, restore democracy, defeat bad governance, unite the opposition vote, and provide a better alternative. But behind these promises often lie hidden motives: personal ambition, ticket negotiation, political survival, revenge against former allies, and access to state power. This is why many coalitions look holy in public but bleed distrust in private.

Nigeria may now be entering that exact season. The African Democratic Congress (ADC), once a relatively minor platform, is suddenly being discussed as a possible shelter for heavyweight politicians dissatisfied with their former homes. But before Nigerians clap, they must ask a dangerous question: Do the coalition members even trust themselves? 

Parties are not built by logos; they are built by loyalty, and loyalty cannot be photocopied overnight.

Nigeria’s politics has become a railway station where leaders keep changing platforms while asking voters to stay loyal.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu did not emerge by accident. His journey moved through the AD, AC, ACN, and finally the APC. He mastered a core truth that many others underestimated: structure beats noise.

While others chased headlines, Tinubu built networks, state influence, and grassroots machinery. Whether loved or criticised, he represents a masterclass in long-term political engineering.

Atiku’s route has been equally dramatic, moving from the PDP to the APC, back to the PDP, and now toward discussions with ADC. No politician in modern Nigeria has contested the presidency with as much persistence. 

Supporters call it resilience; critics call it endless ambition. But as time moves on, the ADC coalition may represent strategic urgency rather than just ideology, a final gamble in a house where the inheritance is uncertain.

Peter Obi’s path from APGA to the PDP, the Labour Party, and now ADC tells the story of a reformer searching for a machine. Obi proved in 2023 that popularity can shake systems, but popularity without nationwide structure has limits. 

If Obi brings credibility and a coalition brings machinery, the equation is powerful. However, can a reformist brand coexist with old political warlords? Movements are powered by hope, but coalitions are powered by compromise.

Moving from the PDP to the APC, the NNPP, and now the ADC, Kwankwaso commands a loyal bloc in the North. He has what every coalition needs—a dedicated voter base—but he also has what coalitions fear: independent ambition. The success of any merger will depend on whether arithmetic can overcome ego.

The urgency for a coalition is often driven by the stark reality of election data. In Nigeria’s 2023 presidential election, the opposition’s fragmentation was clear. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu won with 8,794,726 votes (36.6%), while the combined votes of the three main opposition candidates, Atiku Abubakar (6,984,520), Peter Obi (6,101,533), and Rabiu Kwankwaso (1,496,687), totalled 14,582,740.

Mathematically, the opposition held over 60% of the total vote, but their inability to unite resulted in a win for the incumbent’s structure. This “voter math” is the primary engine behind the current migration toward the ADC; politicians realise that without a unified front, sentiment rarely defeats a settled structure.

Having that in mind, can Atiku trust Obi? Can Obi trust establishment figures? Can Kwankwaso trust a ticket arrangement? Coalitions often fail not because they lack votes, but because they lack trust.

Sooner or later, the “Ticket War” arrives. If Atiku wants one last shot, Obi believes his momentum was stolen, and Kwankwaso believes northern arithmetic favours him, the smiles will disappear. A coalition before a primary is romance; a coalition after a primary is war.

Furthermore, many underestimate the “Tinubu Factor.” Hatred of an incumbent is not a development plan. Tinubu remains a formidable strategist because he controls incumbency power and understands coalition management better than many of his rivals. To defeat a strategist, anger is insufficient, but superior organisation could be the way out.

From a strategic communication perspective, the narratives are already forming. APC’s narrative centres on stability, continuity, and ongoing reforms. ADC represents a force for “Rescue Nigeria,” unites the opposition, and restores hope.

Both parties face a risk. The ADC risks being seen as a shelter for serial defectors, while the APC risks seeming disconnected from economic pain.

Lastline 

Nigeria does not merely need a coalition of politicians; it needs a coalition of ideas, competence, and national healing. If the ADC becomes a real reform movement, it can change history. If it becomes only a marketplace of ambition, it will prove that parties change names faster than systems change realities.

The real contest of 2027 may not be APC vs. ADC. It will be structure vs sentiment, trust vs suspicion, and nationhood vs ambition. On that day, Nigerians, not politicians, will deliver the final verdict on who rules in the next four years.

Haroon Aremu is a public relations strategist and wrote in via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Ibrahim Happiness

‎Every year from April 24 to 30, the world marks World Immunisation Week, a global campaign coordinated by the World Health Organisation (WHO) to highlight one of the most effective public health tools ever developed: vaccines. In 2026, the campaign comes with renewed urgency as countries work to close immunity gaps, restore routine vaccination disrupted in recent years, and protect millions of children and adults from preventable diseases.

‎‎This year’s theme, “For every generation, vaccines work,” underscores a simple but powerful reality: immunisation is not only for infants. Vaccines protect people throughout life, from newborn babies receiving their first doses, to adolescents, pregnant women, healthcare workers, and older adults needing booster or age-specific protection. It is a reminder that vaccines have served families for generations and remain central to a healthier future.

‎Globally, vaccines have transformed human survival. WHO estimates that immunisation has saved more than 150 million lives over the last 50 years, with most of those lives saved being those of infants. Vaccination has reduced deaths from diseases such as measles, polio, tetanus, diphtheria and whooping cough, while preventing lifelong disabilities and severe complications that once devastated communities. Public health experts note that vaccines are among the most cost-effective investments any nation can make because they prevent illness before it starts, reduce pressure on hospitals, and strengthen productivity.

‎Yet despite this progress, millions of children worldwide still miss out on essential vaccines each year. The reasons vary by country: poverty, insecurity, displacement, weak health systems, long travel times to clinics, shortages of trained health workers, and the spread of misinformation. When vaccination rates decline, diseases quickly return. Recent outbreaks of measles and other vaccine-preventable illnesses in several parts of the world have shown how fragile progress can be.

‎In Nigeria, World Immunisation Week is particularly significant. Africa’s most populous country has made progress in expanding routine immunisation through the National Primary Health Care Development Agency (NPHCDA), state governments, donor partners, and frontline health workers. Vaccines for children are provided free through public health facilities, and campaigns against polio, measles, yellow fever and meningitis have helped protect millions.

‎However, challenges remain substantial. Many rural and hard-to-reach communities still struggle with access to health centres. Insecurity in parts of the country continues to disrupt outreach services. Urban slums also face low coverage due to population movement and poor health infrastructure. In some communities, false claims about vaccine safety continue to create hesitation among parents.

‎Nigeria’s Coordinating Minister of Health and Social Welfare, Muhammad Ali Pate, has repeatedly stressed in 2026 that strengthening primary healthcare and expanding routine immunisation are key pillars of the federal government’s health reform agenda. He has called for stronger state-level accountability, improved cold-chain systems, and deeper community engagement to ensure that no child is left behind. According to the minister, immunisation is not merely a health intervention but an investment in national development, because healthy children are more likely to learn, grow, and contribute productively to society.

‎The Executive Director of the National Primary Health Care Development Agency, Muyi Aina, has also emphasised the importance of reaching zero-dose children, those who have never received a single routine vaccine. He noted that Nigeria’s progress will depend on better data systems, mobile outreach teams, local partnerships, and trust-building with communities.

‎International partners have echoed similar concerns. UNICEF and World Health Organisation officials in Nigeria have warned that preventable diseases can spread rapidly when immunisation services are missed, especially among vulnerable children. They continue to urge governments and families to prioritise vaccination and routine health checks.

‎‎World Immunisation Week, therefore, is more than a symbolic observance. It is a timely reminder that progress in health must be protected. Vaccines only work when they reach people. A child in a remote village deserves the same protection as a child in a city hospital. A mother deserves accurate information, not fear-driven rumours. Health workers deserve the support and tools needed to save lives.

‎For Nigeria, the path forward is clear: sustained political commitment, increased domestic funding, stronger local healthcare systems, and public trust. Communities, religious leaders, schools, media organisations and civil society all have a role to play in promoting accurate information and encouraging uptake.

‎As the world marks World Immunisation Week 2026, the message remains straightforward and timeless: vaccines work, they save lives, and they must reach every generation.

‎Ibrahim Happiness is a 300-level Strategic Communication student at the University of Abuja and an intern with IMPR. She can be reached at: happinessibrahim11@gmail.com.

By Prof. Abdelghaffar Amoka

I know Nasarawa State University, Keffi (NSUK), to some extent. In fact, part of the reason I submitted a sabbatical application there in 2024 was to get to know the university better, though I did not receive a response.

From what I know, Nasarawa State University, Keffi, is one of the fastest-growing universities in Nigeria. I have friends there. I also have very close associates pursuing their PhDs there, and they are doing very well.

A major reason for the university’s steady rise is something many people do not talk about enough: since its creation, successive governors of the state have largely allowed the university’s administration to breathe. That kind of non-interference matters. Universities grow when politics does not sit permanently on the neck of scholarship.

Its proximity to Abuja also gives it an undeniable advantage. Patronage from the capital is high. In fact, from some parts of Abuja, NSUK is easier to reach than the University of Abuja. 

Now to the uncomfortable part.

The graduation of a very large number of PhD candidates naturally raises questions. It should. In a country where too many people now chase titles over scholarship, any university that produces large numbers of doctoral graduates will attract scrutiny. That scrutiny should not be treated as hostility.

Every university has strong PhDs and weak PhDs. That is the truth. No institution is automatically exempt. Personally, I have not yet encountered a weak PhD graduate from NSUK, which is why I did not rush to join the noise.

But let us be honest with ourselves: when academics raise questions about standards, it should not be dismissed as envy, malice, or institutional rivalry. It should be seen for what it ought to be — a call to tighten the loose nuts before the system becomes attractive to those looking for the cheapest possible route to a title.

There is no doubt that we are a people that is in love with titles. That is why you will see an HND holder who is a political appointee with a name and titles like Chief Dr Hajiya XXXX. But with the recent decision of the Federal Executive Council on the misuse of the Dr title by honorary doctorate awardees and the prohibition of awarding honorary doctorates to serving political officeholders, the quest for the cheapest possible route to a PhD for the Dr title will increase. Meanwhile, the integrity of these degrees is in our hands. 

As academics, the university system is our immediate constituency. For decades, academics have fought governments to prevent the collapse of Nigerian universities. It would be a tragic contradiction if we were now to become participants in the internal erosion of the very system we once defended against external destruction.

Our degrees must mean something. Our universities must remain places where scholarship is earned, not merely awarded. Whether we admit it or not, the quality of our young people in the future is being shaped in our lecture rooms, laboratories, and supervision meetings.

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

Education has long been seen as the backbone of national progress. Any country that hopes to compete in the modern world must invest in an education system that prepares its young people with relevant knowledge and practical skills. Yet the situation in Nigeria today shows a worrying gap between what students learn in school and what the realities of the 21st century require.

For many years, the country’s curriculum has remained largely theoretical and disconnected from real life. Students spend long hours memorising information for examinations, but many graduate without the ability to apply what they have learned to real-world problems. Certificates are awarded, but practical competence often remains weak. This situation raises serious questions about the direction of the education system.

One major issue is the outdated nature of many academic programs. While the global economy is rapidly shifting toward technology, innovation, and knowledge-based industries, a large portion of Nigeria’s curriculum still reflects ideas and priorities from decades ago. Digital literacy, modern research methods, and emerging technologies are not sufficiently integrated into many learning programs. As a result, Nigerian graduates often struggle to compete in an increasingly digital world.

Another concern is the weak connection between education and the labour market. Universities and other higher institutions frequently design courses without strong collaboration with industries that will eventually employ their graduates. Employers complain about a lack of practical skills, while graduates face rising unemployment despite years of schooling. This mismatch highlights the urgent need to align academic learning with real economic needs.

Infrastructure problems further complicate the situation. Across many parts of the country, schools operate with overcrowded classrooms, outdated laboratories, and limited learning materials. Teachers often do their best under difficult circumstances, but without adequate support, their efforts cannot produce the level of transformation the country needs. When the learning environment itself is weak, even the most dedicated educators struggle to deliver quality outcomes.

Reforming the curriculum is therefore not simply an academic debate. It is a national necessity. Education must move beyond rote memorisation and focus more on critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving. Students should be encouraged to explore ideas, question assumptions, and develop solutions to real challenges within their communities.

Technical and vocational education must also receive greater attention. For too long, society has treated vocational training as a lesser option compared to traditional academic degrees. Yet many developed economies thrive because they place a strong value on technical skills and practical training. If Nigeria hopes to reduce unemployment and stimulate economic growth, it must elevate the status of vocational education.

Entrepreneurship education is another area that deserves serious attention. Rather than preparing students only to search for jobs, schools should equip them with the knowledge and confidence to create their own opportunities. Basic business education, financial literacy, and innovation training can help young people develop the mindset needed to build sustainable ventures.

Teachers must also be central to any reform effort. No education system can rise above the quality of its teachers. Continuous training, improved working conditions, and access to modern teaching resources will empower educators to guide students more effectively. When teachers are supported, the entire learning process improves.

Ultimately, meaningful reform requires collaboration. Policymakers, educators, researchers, industry leaders, and communities must work together to rethink the priorities of the education system. A curriculum designed with broad consultation will be better equipped to respond to national development goals and global realities.

Nigeria has one of the largest youth populations in the world. This demographic strength could become a powerful driver of development if the right investments are made in education. However, if the system continues to produce graduates who are not adequately prepared for the future, the country risks missing a critical opportunity.

Reforming the curriculum will not solve every challenge overnight, but it represents an important step toward building a more dynamic and productive society. Preparing young Nigerians for the demands of the modern world is not just an educational responsibility. It is a national imperative.

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

By Muhammad Abubakar Tahir

Across many communities in northern Nigeria, malnutrition remains a quiet but devastating reality. In rural homes and crowded settlements alike, countless children grow up without the essential nutrients required for healthy development.

The signs are often visible, including stunted growth, frequent illness, low energy levels, and poor cognitive development—but the deeper consequences are far more profound. Malnutrition weakens family foundations, strains healthcare systems, and ultimately undermines society’s long-term development.

Jigawa State is not immune to this silent crisis. Despite various public health interventions over the years, malnutrition continues to affect children and vulnerable populations across the state. Poverty, food insecurity, low dietary diversity, and limited public awareness about proper nutrition all contribute to the persistence of the problem.

At this critical moment, one practical and impactful step the Jigawa State Government can take is to urgently recruit and deploy professional nutritionists across the state’s healthcare system.

Nutrition is the cornerstone of human development. A balanced diet supports healthy physical growth, strengthens the immune system, enhances brain development, and improves overall well-being.

When nutrition is inadequate, the consequences can be severe and long-lasting. Conditions such as stunting, wasting, undernutrition, and micronutrient deficiencies continue to affect many children and women in Jigawa State, undermining not only their health but also the social and economic future of the state.

Health experts emphasise that the first 1,000 days of a child’s life—from conception to the age of two are the most critical for physical and cognitive development. Poor nutrition during this period can lead to irreversible damage, including impaired learning ability, weakened immunity, and increased vulnerability to disease throughout life. Ensuring proper nutrition during this early stage, therefore, requires professional guidance and sustained community engagement.

Unfortunately, Jigawa State is currently facing a growing shortage of professional nutritionists within its healthcare system. Many nutrition officers who previously served in hospitals and public health facilities have recently retired, leaving a significant gap that remains unfilled. As a result, several health facilities now operate without functional nutrition units, while in others, the departments have become largely inactive due to the absence of trained personnel.

This situation is both concerning and avoidable. Across Nigeria, universities and colleges continue to graduate qualified nutritionists every year. Yet many of these professionals remain unemployed or underutilised due to limited opportunities within the public health sector. Jigawa State, therefore, has an opportunity to strengthen its healthcare delivery system by recruiting these young professionals and deploying them to general hospitals, primary healthcare centres, and community health programmes.

Professional nutritionists play a critical role in disease prevention and health promotion. They guide families on proper dietary practices, support maternal and child nutrition, and educate communities on healthy eating habits using locally available foods. Their interventions can significantly reduce cases of malnutrition, improve patient recovery, and enhance the overall health profile of the population.

Beyond hospitals, nutritionists also play an essential role in schools. With the expansion of school feeding programmes in Nigeria, ensuring the nutritional quality of meals provided to pupils has become increasingly important. Qualified nutritionists can design balanced meal plans, monitor food preparation standards, and ensure that these programmes genuinely contribute to children’s physical and cognitive development.

Community-based nutrition education is another area where these professionals are urgently needed. Through outreach programmes, health campaigns, and grassroots engagement, nutritionists can educate rural families on the importance of balanced diets, food safety, proper infant feeding practices, and hygiene.

Crucially, they can also demonstrate how affordable, locally available foods—such as grains, legumes, vegetables, and animal products—can be combined to meet nutritional needs.

Given Jigawa State’s predominantly agrarian economy, nutritionists can also collaborate with agricultural extension services to promote nutrition-sensitive agriculture. Encouraging households to cultivate diverse crops, improve food storage, and adopt better food preparation practices can significantly improve household nutrition and reduce dependency on expensive food items.

Meanwhile, a couple of visits to several hospitals across Jigawa State reveal a worrying reality. Many facilities operate without nutrition officers, leaving nurses and other health workers to manage cases that require specialised dietary expertise. In some institutions, nutrition departments have virtually ceased to function due to staff shortages. This weakens the health system’s ability to effectively address malnutrition and diet-related illnesses.

Equally concerning is the situation in higher institutions offering nutrition and dietetics programmes, where departments sometimes struggle with limited staffing and resources to train future professionals. Strengthening the nutrition workforce will therefore require both recruitment into the healthcare system and sustained support for training institutions.

It is important to acknowledge that the Jigawa State Government has made commendable progress in improving healthcare infrastructure and expanding primary healthcare services across the state. Investments in health facilities, maternal healthcare programmes, and immunisation services have improved health outcomes in many communities.

However, strengthening the nutrition workforce must become an essential component of these broader health reforms. Without trained professionals to address nutrition-related challenges, efforts to combat maternal and child mortality, infectious diseases, and poor health outcomes will remain incomplete.

Recruiting and deploying professional nutritionists is not merely a staffing decision—it is a strategic investment in public health, human capital development, and the long-term prosperity of Jigawa State. A healthier and well-nourished population is more productive, better educated, and more capable of contributing meaningfully to economic and social development.

Jigawa State, therefore, stands at an important crossroads. By prioritising the employment of nutritionists in hospitals, primary healthcare centres, schools, and community health programmes, the government can take a decisive step toward reducing malnutrition and improving the well-being of its citizens.

The fight against malnutrition requires commitment, expertise, and timely action. The time to act is now.

Muhammad Abubakar Tahir, a concerned citizen, writes from Hadejia, Jigawa State.

By Aiman Fodio

As a concerned rank-and-file student at Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University (ATBU), let me say this. Look around this group. We are on different levels: some have been here for nearly a decade, some for five years, some for six. It is a whole spectrum of experience. But I want you to pause and ask yourself one question: What have you observed about student leadership over your time here?

Aren’t these complaints we are lodging day in, day out, the same old tunes we have grown familiar with? What tangible change have you witnessed across the number of administrations you have seen come and go? The script, sadly, never changes. The concerns are always the same: school fees increment, access to accommodations, and, just recently, the NELFUND refund joined the party. And let’s not forget the usual guest stars—water and light issues—making their regular appearance.

The most painful part? The approach to these problems remains the same every time, so much so that you could write the Students’ Union Government’s response in your sleep. “We are in dialogue with management.” “We implore students to remain calm.” “We are aware of your plight.” It is a tired liturgy. But let us be fair—exempt that issue of protest. The real tragedy is that the SUG is often not given proper regard by the management. An SUG President will struggle to secure a simple appointment with the VC. If a concession will not work out, then… wallahi, this daily complaint cycle will never work out. Nothing will change.

This is precisely why people like me, who once stood a chance, withdrew our interest from the beginning. I speak from the inside: from my time in Gamji Memorial Club to serving as a serial senator, Chief Whip, and even Deputy Senate President in the SUG Parliament. I’ve seen the engine room. I have been asked so many times by those who saw this trajectory. “Why not run for SUG President?” They ask. The answer is these limits and the remote control. They make you lose interest because you know, no matter your passion or plan, you will ultimately fail those who gave you their loyalty and support. The structure is designed to frustrate genuine agency.

Why do our student leaders fail? Or, rather, why does the system ensure they cannot succeed? Both questions are intertwined. Off the top of my head, I can identify at least three (out of one hundred) reasons. One, a leadership selection process based on popularity and empty promises, not pragmatic skill. Two, a university management structure that sees student leadership as a necessary nuisance to be managed, not a partner in welfare. Three, the domination of the SUG space by the politically ambitious, rather than the service-oriented.

In this matter, I will dwell on the first: our own role as students in choosing the wrong pilots. It could be emotional: we vote for the most charismatic orator, the one who throws the biggest parties, the one with the slickest posters. It could be tribal: we vote based on faculty, department, or state of origin. It could also be a result of a poor understanding of the depth of the challenges ahead. We set our leaders up for a verdict of failure from the campaign period onward. We want them to fix in one semester what has been broken for a decade, and when they cannot perform magic, we brand them as sell-outs.

I have been there before. In my first year, I was a staunch supporter of a particular SUG presidential candidate. He spoke like Fela, promised like Obama, and had a slogan that was on everyone’s lips. Upon visiting our hostel to campaign, he was wowed by our living conditions. He said if a student could live like this, then he had his work cut out for him. I started promoting him as the leader who would finally make management listen. At the time, I saw management’s deaf ear as our only problem. I did not take kindly to any criticism of my candidate. But less than three months into his administration, I had turned to his critic. It was a case of disappointed love.

For one, I couldn’t stand some of his executives. I said if this man really wanted to fight for us, as he staunchly promised in his manifesto, some persons should not have been in his cabinet. When he started talking about “understanding management’s constraints,” I was incensed. All my life as a student, I had argued that students, being the reason the university exists, should enjoy basic dignity. I refused to evaluate or accept any administrative arguments. I concluded he had been compromised, as I was more interested in the militant implications. Meanwhile, our water situation got worse. I held him liable for failing to lead a strong protest as he had promised during his campaign.

That was how our dear messiah began to unravel. Ahead of the next election, I had found another messiah in a final-year student known for his fearless critiques of management on social media. I said this was the fighter we needed! By then, I was already in the parliament, seeing the gap between fiery speeches on the floor and actual results from the executive. I remember arguing for him in a hostel lounge. My friend, who was in the School of Environmental Technology, called to ask me, jokingly: “So how much did he pay you for this?” With that candidate’s dream going nowhere, I gave up on my search for a student messiah. Instead, I started thinking: “Let’s make do with what we have.”

That was why, when the next candidate was being marketed as the “bridge-builder” and “technocrat,” I was calm. I had become a realist. My worldview had evolved. Even later, as Chairman of the Bauchi Axis for NAUS, I saw how student politics at every level face the same structural walls. I had looked deeply at ATBU’s power dynamics and its complications. I said this candidate, relatively connected, would only try, but not much would change. The water problem he inherited only worsened as more hostels were built. Rather than face this common threat, the SUG and management resorted to politicking and finger-pointing. Meanwhile, frustration grabbed us by the neck, but only the SUG President carried the blame.

As we later saw, all the politicking was geared towards securing a peaceful tenure and a good recommendation letter from management. The cycle continued. That is how overmarketing begins again every election. People who previously abused and rejected a candidate become pilots of their campaign, creating fables and fantasies. I am so worried for the next set that I will say this: God help the next SUG President if, by their second semester, hostels still lack water; if the electricity is more off than on; if the NELFUND issue is still unresolved; and if accommodation is still a blood sport. They won’t find it funny!

Let me be very clear: there is nothing wrong with having expectations. In fact, to expect nothing will be a tragedy. However, ATBU will not change overnight—no matter what any SUG candidate promises, or how their supporters sell them. The management structure is rigid. We can’t reduce fees or increase water supply within the twinkling of an eye. Many good things take time and persistent, intelligent pressure. We don’t need to be deceived, or to deceive ourselves, at election times.

What then? We need to temper our pre-election expectations and sharpen our post-election engagement. We need to vote for the gritty pragmatist with a three-point welfare plan (Water. Light. Health.) over the flamboyant orator with a 50-page manifesto. We must look out for signs of diligent pressure and creative advocacy to avoid concluding within a month that a leader has failed. A President who fails to secure a fee reduction but installs and maintains 10 new boreholes has not failed entirely. Selling every candidate as a messiah is the issue, but even if they were the messiah, could they succeed in this system? That is the question.

But we must also demand that management stop seeing the SUG as a kindergarten government. A student leader who must beg for three weeks to see the VC is set up for ridicule and failure. Until that relationship is recalibrated into one of respectful engagement, we will remain here, singing the same songs of lament. It is all politics—and, sadly, politics in which the most important voters, the students, often empower the very system that frustrates them.

AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…

THE CV CANDIDATE

We must be wary of the candidate whose entire campaign seems designed to add a glossy line to their CV. You can spot them by their focus on “organising flagship events” and “international partnerships” while being vague on hostel water pressure. Their tenure is often a series of photo-ops with management, culminating in a glowing reference letter while the student’s condition remains unchanged. Ambition.

THE QUIET LOBBYIST

Conversely, let us not discount the quiet lobbyist. The one who may not be great on Twitter but is always in the Dean’s office, presenting costed proposals for water tankers or negotiating small but real wins on exam deadlines. This approach lacks drama and doesn’t fuel the “activist” brand, but it sometimes yields the only tangible results we see. Pragmatism.

MANAGEMENT’S BLIND SPOT

The university management often forgets that a frustrated, disrespected student body is a tinderbox. By neutering the SUG and denying it genuine agency, they create an environment in which peaceful channels are seen as useless, making spontaneous, unmanageable unrest more likely. It is a profound failure of strategic thinking. Shortsighted.

OUR COLLECTIVE AMNESIA

Finally, we, the students, suffer from collective amnesia. Every new election cycle, we get swept up in new promises and forget the lessons of the past three administrations. We refuse to hold candidates to their predecessor’s failed promises. Until we develop an institutional memory and vote based on record and realistic plans, we will be forever disappointed. Cycle.

Aiman Fodio is the former Executive Chairman of the National Association of University Students (NAUS) Bauchi Axis and a serial legislator during his time in ATBU Unionism. He is currently a final year student of ATBU.

By Bilyamin Abdulmumin, PhD

The politics of the Jega/Gwandu/Aleiro federal constituency fascinate me for several reasons: All three major contenders hail from Jega, and for three consecutive election cycles, they have contested in tightly fought primaries and elections.

Now, another cavalry, a former Comptroller-General of the Nigerian Correctional Service, threw his hat into the foray. The addition of Alhaji Jafar Jega to the list has dramatically changed the calculations and trajectory of the constituency politics. Because Ahmad Jafar enjoys the massive goodwill of the people in Kebbi State. Unlike some politicians who claimed that people called on them to contest, Ahmad Jafar genuinely enjoys that goodwill. 

By virtue of the high office he held, the former CG secured a number of jobs, especially in this contingency. Community leaders, clerics, and politicians drove to his house to pay their respects and to appreciate his gesture. Therefore, such a person joining the race must add dynamics to the game. 

The incumbency of officials can either be a tool for success or a vehicle for their downfall. Honourable Mansur Musa (Dan Jamiah), the current House representative, unarguably used this opportunity to his advantage. He used his position and oversight function as deputy chairman of the Federal Road Safety Commission in the lower chamber to bring infrastructure development never seen in this constituency. The citizens left in awe, reduced to asking this burning question: Can an NA member carry out such development? 

It should never be forgotten in a hurry that Dan Jamiah overcame all odds against him, coming from the PDP to defeat the then-incumbent and ruling party, the APC. Now, after getting into office, he consolidated the people’s goodwill even further.

Ahaji Kabiru Labbo Ajiya delves into the current battle as energetically as always. He is a populist, which is why he commands significant goodwill among voters. The part that particularly sets Ajiya apart is his initiatives in business and job creation. It’s without a doubt that Ajiya will hustle through the NA position to bring the developmental projects in this constituency to equal levels. The hurdle that had been standing before Ajiya was the primary elections. The political scheming and calculation were previously against him.

Alhaji Umar Danbuga’s political trajectory is seen as elite-driven. So, in this region where candidates’ emergence highly depends on elite goodwill, this is to the face of Alhaji Umar. In addition, the job opportunities and sponsorships through his office, as well as his personality, are part of his legacy. However, the odds against Alhaji Danbuga, Secretary, are that he has no benefit of doubt. He was the longest-serving member for this constituency. This makes different voters express different views about his candidacy.

I think Dan Jami’ah and Ajiya belong to the Senator Aleiro camp within the APC, while Jafar Ahmed and Danbuga Secretary belong to the Dr Nasir Idris/ Senator Atiku Bagudu camp. This factor may ultimately play a crucial role in deciding who emerges as the ticket-bearer come 2027.