Opinion

By Tijjani Ahmad, PhD 

In Northern Nigeria’s academic landscape, few names resonate as profoundly as Professor Kabiru Isa Dandago’s. For those who pursued accounting and related disciplines from the mid-1990s onward, his name was not just familiar; it was synonymous with excellence, innovation, and unwavering commitment. 

A household figure whose books lined our shelves and whose insights shaped our minds, Prof. Dandago lived a life dedicated to paying his dues in every sphere he touched: academically, professionally, administratively, socially, and spiritually. 

Prof. Dandago’s academic journey spanned an impressive 36 years (since 1990), with 19 of those as a full professor, during which he poured his heart into teaching, supervision, and research. His classrooms were not mere lecture halls but crucibles of intellectual growth, where students emerged transformed. He authored numerous papers and books that became foundational texts, demystifying complex financial concepts and inspiring generations of accountants, managers, and scholars. 

At Bayero University, Kano (BUK) and beyond, his supervision of theses and dissertations was legendary, rigorous yet nurturing, always pushing mentees to reach their highest potential. Even in his final days, his contributions to knowledge remained undiminished, a reminder that true scholars never truly retire.

Professionally, Prof. Dandago’s influence extended far beyond academia. He was a pillar in Nigeria’s accounting bodies, serving with distinction at both national and district levels in the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria (ICAN), the Association of National Accountants of Nigeria (ANAN), and the Chartered Institute of Taxation of Nigeria (CITN). His expertise shaped policies, standards, and practices, ensuring ethical integrity in a field often tested by challenges. 

Administratively, he held pivotal roles, including as Commissioner of Finance in Kano State and as a member of the Tax Appeal Tribunal, where his decisions were marked by fairness, precision, and a deep sense of public duty. These positions were not stepping stones for personal gain but platforms for service, where he navigated fiscal complexities with the wisdom of a sage.

Yet, Prof. Dandago’s greatness was not confined to boardrooms or lecture podiums. Socially, he was a force for good, deeply invested in community service and mentorship. He guided countless young professionals, offering counsel that extended beyond careers into life itself. 

His actions spoke volumes – quiet acts of kindness, support for the underprivileged, and a commitment to uplifting Northern Nigeria’s youth. Spiritually, he lived as a devout Muslim, his faith evident in his humility, generosity, and moral compass. He was a man who walked his talk, drawing from Islamic principles to foster harmony and ethical living in all he did.

My own path with Prof. Dandago began indirectly, through whispers of his reputation. As a student at ABU, I first encountered his name in the books that formed the backbone of our curriculum and in the glowing accounts from our seniors at BUK, who spoke of him with reverence. Little did I know our worlds would intersect so meaningfully. 

Our first direct meeting came in 2011 during my MBA program, when he was assigned to teach Financial and Management Accounting alongside the late Prof. Mohammed Liman, another erudite scholar we lost just last August. Their tandem was a masterclass in itself, blending rigour with inspiration.

Two years later, in 2013, fate brought us together again at Universiti Utara Malaysia, where his presence felt like a continuation of that earlier guidance. From that point onward, Prof. Dandago became more than a teacher; he was a constant in my journey, following my progress with genuine interest. 

Our paths crossed repeatedly—in projects, fora, committees—each encounter enriching me with wisdom. Whether through his direct words, sharp and insightful, or through the subtle power of his example, no one left his company unchanged. He was the true definition of a professor: not just a dispenser of facts, but a cultivator of minds and spirits.

Prof. Dandago’s life was a symphony of service, where every note contributed to a greater harmony. In a world often driven by self-interest, he stood as a paragon of selflessness, reminding us that true success lies in what we give, not what we gain. 

As we gather to honour his memory, his burial today echoes the profound impact he had, crowds drawn not by obligation, but by love and respect for a life well-lived.

May Allah (SWT) grant him eternal peace, forgive his shortcomings, and admit him into Jannatul Firdaus, the highest paradise. 

Adieu Prof.! Sai mun zo.

In the Northern Nigeria’s academic landscape, few names resonate as profoundly as that of Professor Kabiru Isa Dandago. For those who pursued accounting and related disciplines from the mid-1990s onward, his name was not just familiar, it was synonymous with excellence, innovation, and unwavering commitment. A household figure whose books lined our shelves and whose insights shaped our minds, Prof. Dandago lived a life dedicated to paying his dues in every sphere he touched: academically, professionally, administratively, socially, and spiritually.

Prof. Dandago’s academic journey spanned an impressive 36 years (since 1990), with 19 of those as a full professor, during which he poured his heart into teaching, supervision, and research. His classrooms were not mere lecture halls but crucibles of intellectual growth, where students emerged transformed. He authored numerous papers and books that became foundational texts, demystifying complex financial concepts and inspiring generations of accountants, managers, and scholars. At Bayero University Kano (BUK) and beyond, his supervision of theses and dissertations was legendary, rigorous yet nurturing, always pushing mentees to reach their highest potential. Even in his final days, his contributions to knowledge remained undiminished, a reminder that true scholars never truly retire.

Professionally, Prof. Dandago’s influence extended far beyond academia. He was a pillar in Nigeria’s accounting bodies, serving with distinction at both national and district levels in the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria (ICAN), the Association of National Accountants of Nigeria (ANAN), and the Chartered Institute of Taxation of Nigeria (CITN). His expertise shaped policies, standards, and practices, ensuring ethical integrity in a field often tested by challenges. Administratively, he held pivotal roles, including as Commissioner of Finance in Kano State and as a member of the Tax Appeal Tribunal, where his decisions were marked by fairness, precision, and a deep sense of public duty. These positions were not stepping stones for personal gain but platforms for service, where he navigated fiscal complexities with the wisdom of a sage.

Yet, Prof. Dandago’s greatness was not confined to boardrooms or lecture podiums. Socially, he was a force for good, deeply invested in community service and mentorship. He guided countless young professionals, offering counsel that extended beyond careers into life itself. His actions spoke volumes – quiet acts of kindness, support for the underprivileged, and a commitment to uplifting Northern Nigeria’s youth. Spiritually, he lived as a devout Muslim, his faith evident in his humility, generosity, and moral compass. He was a man who walked his talk, drawing from Islamic principles to foster harmony and ethical living in all he did.

My own path with Prof. Dandago began indirectly, through whispers of his reputation. As a student at ABU, I first encountered his name in the books that formed the backbone of our curriculum and in the glowing accounts from our seniors at BUK, who spoke of him with reverence. Little did I know our worlds would intersect so meaningfully. Our first direct meeting came in 2011 during my MBA program, when he was assigned to teach Financial and Management Accounting alongside the late Prof. Mohammed Liman, another erudite scholar we lost just last August. Their tandem was a masterclass in itself, blending rigor with inspiration.

Two years later, in 2013, fate brought us together again at Universiti Utara Malaysia, where his presence felt like a continuation of that earlier guidance. From that point onward, Prof. Dandago became more than a teacher; he was a constant in my journey, following my progress with genuine interest. Our paths crossed repeatedly—in projects, fora, committees—each encounter enriching me with wisdom. Whether through his direct words, sharp and insightful, or through the subtle power of his example, no one left his company unchanged. He was the true definition of a professor: not just a dispenser of facts, but a cultivator of minds and spirits.

Prof. Dandago’s life was a symphony of service, where every note contributed to a greater harmony. In a world often driven by self-interest, he stood as a paragon of selflessness, reminding us that true success lies in what we give, not what we gain. As we gather to honor his memory, his burial today echoes the profound impact he had, crowds drawn not by obligation, but by love and respect for a life well-lived.

May Allah (SWT) grant him eternal peace, forgive his shortcomings, and admit him into Jannatul Firdaus, the highest paradise.

Adue Prof.! Sai mun zo.

By Nasiru Ibrahim 

Limited information in the market leads to inefficiency and misallocation of resources. A low-quality product or service can command a higher price, while high-skilled labour may receive lower wages. A seller with a high-quality product or service may incur losses because buyers cannot easily verify quality and are unwilling to pay a premium, fearing they may be overpaying for a low-quality alternative.

For example, a faulty car may sell at a high price because buyers lack technical knowledge, rely on appearances, brand reputation, or sellers’ claims, and face high inspection costs. A firm that chooses to be honest may lose by earning a lower profit margin because dishonest competitors exaggerate quality, cut corners, or hide defects while charging similar prices.

A quack or less-skilled consultant with fewer credentials and a weak track record may secure contracts faster due to information gaps, strong social networks, aggressive self-marketing, and clients’ inability to assess true competence before hiring.

In many markets, buyers seek to identify quality products or services by looking for higher prices, good public relations, branding, and heavy advertising. Poor-quality products and inefficient firms can imitate these signals, so both high- and low-quality products are often sold at roughly the same price. Under rational expectations, sellers understand that buyers believe higher prices signal higher quality. Buyers, lacking better information, rely on price as a shortcut, and low-quality sellers exploit this belief, leading to market failure similar to Akerlof’s Market for Lemons.

Demand for Experts, Agents, and Intermediaries

Information asymmetry increases the demand for experts, agents, consultants, brokers, and intermediaries who can distinguish good quality from bad. These agents help consumers get better deals and higher-quality products or services.

While this creates jobs, it does not necessarily solve consumer exploitation. Agents may collude with sellers, prioritise commissions over client welfare, exploit client ignorance, or add extra layers of cost without improving quality.

For example, if tax policy were simple and clearly understood, few people would need tax consultants. Complex systems create jobs for consultants and financial literacy experts. While this raises incomes and GDP, it can also raise prices because the cost of intermediaries is embedded in goods and services, contributing to inflation.

Efficiency vs Employment Trade-Off

Reducing information asymmetry improves efficiency but can increase unemployment in the short run. Many jobs—brokers, consultants, agents, and middlemen—exist mainly because consumers lack information. When governments improve transparency through clear regulations, digital platforms, and public data, fewer intermediaries are needed. As a result, demand for these expert roles declines, leading to job losses.

This creates a policy trade-off: greater transparency improves efficiency but reduces employment in information-based intermediary jobs. To manage this, governments should invest in retraining and help displaced workers move into sectors where skills add real value rather than exploiting information gaps.

Moral Hazard—Buyers Can Also Cheat

Moral hazard occurs after a transaction, when one party changes behaviour because costs are partly borne by the other party. Buyers are not always passive; they may also cheat when incentives allow.

Examples include tenants damaging rented property because repair costs are borne by landlords, insured individuals exaggerating losses, clients hiding information or misusing professional advice, and borrowers diverting loans to unintended uses.

Buyer-side moral hazard worsens inefficiency. Sellers respond by raising prices, tightening contracts, reducing quality, or exiting the market. Honest buyers then face higher costs and fewer choices, while resources are allocated to monitoring and enforcement rather than to productive activity. Information asymmetry is therefore two-sided, and policies must address both adverse selection and moral hazard through better contracts, monitoring, and enforcement.

Guarantees, Warranties, and Mixed-Quality Equilibrium

Guarantees and warranties are often introduced to signal product quality. High-quality sellers are willing to offer guarantees because defects are less likely, which should push low-quality products out of the market.

However, guarantees also create buyer-side moral hazard. Buyers may reduce care, overuse, or deliberately damage products because repairs or replacements are covered. This increases warranty costs for all producers.

High-quality firms may respond by raising prices, limiting coverage, or reducing quality investment. Low-quality firms can mimic guarantees by pricing in expected abuse. As a result, good and bad products coexist in equilibrium, despite the presence of guarantees. Guarantees improve trust but do not fully resolve market failure. Moral hazard shifts costs rather than eliminating inefficiency.

Digital Platforms, Formalization, and Consumer Protection

E-commerce and digital marketing platforms reduce information asymmetry by increasing price transparency, reviews, ratings, comparisons, and direct access to sellers. These tools reduce reliance on intermediaries and help consumers verify quality.

In cities like Abuja, Port Harcourt, and Lagos, consumers can reduce exploitation by:

Asking for the previous selling price and comparing across sellers.

Signaling willingness to switch if the price is unfair.

Checking online prices, reviews, or multiple shops to reduce information asymmetry!

Government can also reduce information asymmetry by formalizing markets, which improves record-keeping, transparency, standardization, and contract enforcement. Clear, fair, and incentive-based tax systems encourage voluntary compliance, provide access to credit, legal protection, and government contracts.

The government may invest ₦100 million in upgrading informal markets in Kano, Lagos, and Port Harcourt and taxing ₦20 million annually per market allows the government to recover costs within five years while boosting GDP and creating jobs.

Without incentives, multiple overlapping taxes increase compliance costs and deepen informality. Corruption, waste, and misuse of funds reduce citizen trust. Transparent, fair, and accountable government policies promote efficiency, formalisation, and market growth, while distrust, overconfidence, and policy failures harm the economy.

Ibrahim is a graduate of Economics from Bayero University, Kano and can be reached via nasirfirji4@gmail.com.

By Ahmed Musa Husaini

In June last year, during the 12-Day war, I described the situation as the end of peace in the middle-east, arguing that a broader conflict between Iran and its proxies on one hand, and US-Israel and their gulf lackeys on the other, is inevitable.

Israel exists on three myths: that it is the only democracy in the middle-east, that it is a strategic asset for the US and the Christian West’s bulwark against an irrational Islamic and Arab enemy, thus positioning itself as US guarantor of American energy security, protector of western maritime lines, and other US/western interests without the need for permanent American boots on ground.

These myths lack any basis in facts or rational geopolitics. Israel is an apartheid state, a security liability for the US, and the biggest source of instability in the region that continues to occupy territories of it’s neighbors and violates more international laws and UN conventions than any country on earth.

Since its founding in 1948, Israel has fought multiple wars with its Arab neighbors. In the early years post-1948, Egypt emerged as its most sophisticated threat due to its size as the most populous Arab nation and its border with Israel, making it impossible to be decisively defeated by Israel in any conventional way.

Aware of such threats, Israel, worked through the US, to sign a peace treaty with Egypt in 1979, in what Israeli leaders and analysts referred to as the “most important strategic shift in Israel’s history,” one that reshaped Israel’s strategic environment in profound ways. It effectively neutralized the most powerful Arab military power, decapitated the Egypt-led Arab military coalition which had crossed Suez Canal in 1973 and took Israel by surprise. With Egypt now removed from the strategic equation, Israel could focus its resources elsewhere.

That’s why Menachim Begin was able to make far-reaching concessions to the Egyptians in 1979: returning the Sinai peninsula along with dismantling over 170 military Israeli installations, as well as the handing over of the Alma oil fields which at the time supplied half of Israel’s energy needs with estimated $100 billion in untapped reserves. To this day, the US pays Egypt $1.3-1.5 billion annually to maintain that agreement.

With the removal of the Egyptian threat, the years from 1979 to the end of the cold war marked a period of Israeli undisputed military superiority. It was Israel’s golden age, a period of unparalleled conventional military dominance. Nowhere was that superiority displayed than in its invasion of Lebanon in 1982 (and its defeat of Syrian forces) in order to dislodge the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO).

Ironically, it was Israel’s invasion of Lebanon in 1982 and its prolonged occupation of southern Lebanon that gave birth to Hezbollah. Hurting from the suffering and humiliation of the Shiite constituents in Southern Lebanon, Hezbollah emerged (under IRGC’s tutelage) with the explicit goal of ending Israeli occupation of southern Lebanon, a feat it achieved in 2000 when Israel was finally chased out of Southern Lebanon.

In the same vein, the eruption of the First Intifada due to years of Israeli occupation and subjugation of Palestinian Arab people led to the birth of Hamas as a military threat. Prior to that, Hamas was a local charity organization with a vast network of schools, clinics, mosques, and youth clubs, providing crucial social services and embedding itself in the daily life of Palestinian communities. Immediately after the outbreak of the first intifada, Sheikh Ahmad Yassin and other leaders announced the formation of Harakatul Muqawama Al-Islamiya – the Islamic Resistance Movement, known by its acronym as Hamas.

With the end of cold war, Israeli focus shifted to Iraq. Israeli illusion of invincibility was shattered during the Gulf War, with Saddam’s Iraq firing 39 scud missiles at Israeli population centers. For the first time, the Israeli home front was attacked by a different type of weapon that renders its air superiority ineffective, an experience that gave birth to Israel’s famed missile defense technology.

With the elimination of Saddam in 2003 in another costly US war at the behest of Israel, Israel’s new focus shifted to Iran. Iran represented a different kind of threat. For a start, Iran is a non-Arab, Shiite power, with a nuclear and missile delivery technology, and a network of proxies in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq and Yemen; posing a challenge to Israel’s military dominance in ways its strategists could not have imagined in the heady days after its peace treaty with Egypt in 1979 or the elimination of Saddam in 2003.

In the build up to the Israeli-instigated US invasion of Iraq, Netanyahu even told the US Congress that removing Saddam Hussein from power would usher in a period of peace and stability in the Middle-east. Immediately Saddam was removed, the incitement shifted to Iran, and if Iran were to be removed today, Israel would create a new enemy to continue justifying its belligerence.

The fact is, Israel is created from chaos, from tragedy: the dispossession of millions of indigenous Palestinian Arab populations. The existence and survival of Israel as an occupier, expansionist, racial and ethnic state is predicated on endless chaos and conflict. Even if Hezbollah, Hamas or Iran do not exist, Israel would create one.

The current war with Iran is nothing but a continuation of Israeli impunity under American patronage, in order to guarantee Israel’s qualitative military edge, preserve America’s diplomatic monopoly, and continue to create conditions for continuous US presence in the middle-east.

That’s why Trump’s own objectives for the war keep changing, from regime change and liberating Iranians, to destroying Iranian defense capabilities and industrial infrastructure. Just days ago, the Iranians have agreed to most of Trump’s demands about halting uranium enrichment and the commitment not to pursue nuclear weapons, but negotiations for the US and Israel were just a smokescreen to buy time and reposition forces in the region.

I am under no illusion about American military superiority. If Iran were to fall today, if the Iranian threat were to be eliminated today, Israel would create another threat. Already, Israeli leaders are talking about Muslim nuclear-armed Pakistan and Muslim NATO member Turkey. For Israel to exist, a new enemy must be created after the elimination of the last one, a forever war is needed.

This state of forever war is important for Israel’s domestic population. The Israelis disagree on everything except on the treatment and subjugation of their Arab neighbors. Creating an external enemy serves as a unifying force against an existential threat, thus suppressing internal political and ethnic divisions, distract from their leaders (Netanyahu’s) domestic and personal failures, and delegitimize political dissent as betrayal.

It also has an international dimension. First on the basis of strategic interests by projecting Israel as America’s strategic asset against a common Muslim Arab enemy while conveniently ignoring Palestinian Christian suffering. And most importantly, from an apocalyptic dispensationalist theological belief that the triumph of Israel and the ensuing conflict are prophesied conditions for the “End Times,” culminating in the Battle of Armageddon and guaranteeing the return of Christ. To these groups, which form a core part of the Republican Party’s base and hold immense political influence, unconditional support for Israel is a religious duty and the conflict must continue and even intensify to fulfil a biblical prophecy.

These three elements: the need for an enemy, the value as an American proxy, and the political weaponization of apocalyptic theology make Israel’s policy of forever war not just a failure of American policy in the middle-east, it is the American policy itself. Israel will be locked into a cycle of creating and perpetuating enemies even if all its neighbors surrender.

But nature abhors vacuum. The resistance dynamic will always run its course. Actions will generate reactions. Israeli occupation and subjugation will create collective suffering, and collective suffering creates anger, desperation and desire for revenge, leading to radicalization and the emergence of violent resistance groups whose promise of resistance and dignity will always find fertile ground for recruitment and popular support. And the cycle repeats.

This is exactly what is happening in the current war on Iran. Iran knows quite well it cannot stand the combined military might of the US and Israel, but it chose to fight with dignity rather than face humiliation and surrender. This heroic and noble stand alone, whose story will be told across generations, will galvanize resistance movement across every inch of the middle-east, whose seeds will germinate in the next 20-30 years to trigger seismic geopolitical events across the region as was seen in the Iranian Revolution of 1979 and recently the Arab Spring.

Victory for Iran is not in militarily defeating the US, it is in denying the US and Israel their objectives of regime change and submissive leadership. It is the same victory the Taliban recorded in Afghanistan and the resistance bloc recorded in Iraq after over 20 years of US aggression and occupation.

The solution to all these lies first in saving Israel from itself, from its perpetual sense of forever war and tendency to self-destruct. Israel must be forced to exist as a single biracial state with equal rights for Palestinians and Jews, just as was the case with Apartheid South Africa. And secondly, America’s diplomatic monopoly must end. Asking America to broker a peace involving Israel is akin to asking Iran to broker peace involving Hezbollah. It is against the basic law of natural justice and fairness to ask the state that sponsors, arms, shields, and protects one side to serve as impartial broker.

To Achieve that, the Arabs, Israel’s immediate environment and victims, must do their part. These countries, are run by regimes who continue to ignore the suffering of their people in order to appease their American patrons. The world (Russia or China or any rival power) will not do the job for them. Neither Israel nor their American patrons will change their behavior without incentives. More Abraham Accords can be signed, and more middle-eastern governments can be co-opted into the illusion of American patronage and Israeli security, but as long as the Arab street reeks of domestic discontents and regional outcry against Israeli aggression, as long as the Palestinian question remains unsolved and Israeli belligerence remains untamed, a forever war is in our hands.

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

In Kano today, politics is no longer whispered in corridors; it is argued loudly in markets, mosques and on social media timelines. Since Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s reported decision to part ways with the NNPP, the city has become a theatre of competing loyalties, sharp sarcasm and deeper constitutional questions. Supporters have reduced complex political choices into street labels—Abba’s camp being teased as ’yan a ci dadi lafiya, while the Kwankwasiyya faithful wear wuya ba ta kisa as a badge of honour. Beneath the banter, however, lies a serious national issue: who truly owns a political mandate?

Governor Abba Yusuf did not emerge from a vacuum. His ascent to the Kano Government House was inseparable from the Kwankwasiyya political machinery, a movement painstakingly built by Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso over two decades. From red caps to ideological messaging, the movement transcended party platforms and became a political identity. In the 2023 elections, many voters did not merely vote for a party; they voted for Kwankwasiyya as a symbol of continuity, defiance and populist appeal.

Yet, Abba Yusuf is no ceremonial beneficiary. He contested, won, survived legal battles and now governs with all the constitutional powers vested in an elected governor. His mandate, in law, is personal. Once sworn in, no political godfather—however influential—can legally issue directives from outside the Government House. This is where the tension lies: the clash between moral ownership of political capital and constitutional authority of office.

Those derisively tagged ’yan aci dadi lafiya by opponents argue that governance is about pragmatism, access to power and delivering dividends to the people. From their perspective, a sitting governor must build alliances beyond sentiment, protect his administration and ensure stability. Politics, they insist, is not a monastic vow of hardship but a strategic exercise in survival and results.

On the other side stand the wuya bata ƙi sa faithful—Kwankwasiyya loyalists who believe political struggle must be endured to preserve ideology. To them, Abba Yusuf’s move is not strategy but betrayal. They see it as an attempt to reap the fruits of a movement while discarding its architect. In their view, suffering with the movement, even outside power, is preferable to comfort without loyalty.

This divide exposes a recurring Nigerian dilemma: the uneasy relationship between political movements and the individuals they propel into office. From Awolowo’s disciples to Aregbesola’s rupture with Tinubu, Nigerian politics is littered with fallouts between founders and beneficiaries. Kano’s current drama is simply the latest chapter.

Kwankwaso’s influence in Kano politics is undeniable. Beyond elections, he represents a moral compass for millions who see him as a symbol of resistance against elite dominance. His supporters’ anger is therefore not merely partisan; it is emotional and ideological. To them, Abba Yusuf’s political identity was inseparable from Kwankwaso’s shadow.

However, governance demands autonomy. A governor who appears perpetually tethered to an external authority risks administrative paralysis and legitimacy questions. Abba Yusuf’s defenders argue that Kano cannot be governed from outside its constitutional structures. They insist that the electorate voted not just for Kwankwaso’s endorsement but for Abba Yusuf’s promise to lead.

The real casualty in this contest, unfortunately, risks being governance itself. When political energy is consumed by loyalty tests and factional supremacy, policy focus suffers. Kano’s challenges—urban congestion, youth unemployment, educational deficits, and security concerns—require a governor fully immersed in administration, not in constant political firefighting.

There is also the electoral implication. While Kwankwasiyya remains a formidable grassroots force, incumbency is a powerful weapon. State resources, visibility, and administrative control can quickly reshape political narratives. The assumption that loyalty automatically translates into electoral dominance may underestimate the pragmatism of Nigerian voters, especially when power dynamics shift.

Yet, Abba Yusuf’s path is equally fraught. Detaching from a movement that delivered his victory carries political costs. Kano’s electorate is emotionally invested, and symbols matter. If his administration fails to convincingly outperform expectations, the narrative of ingratitude could harden into electoral punishment.

Ultimately, this is not just a Kano story; it is a Nigerian one. It forces a national reflection on whether mandates belong to parties, movements, godfathers or the individuals elected by the people. The Constitution is clear, but politics rarely is.

Perhaps the wisest outcome lies not in triumph or humiliation but in recalibration. Political movements must learn to institutionalise beyond personalities, while elected officials must acknowledge the moral debts that brought them to power. Neither absolute loyalty nor total independence offers a sustainable path.

As the dust settles, the sarcasm of ’yan a ci dadi lafiya and wuya ba ta kisa may fade, but the questions will linger. In Nigeria’s democracy, mandate is both a legal instrument and a moral contract. Kano’s unfolding drama reminds us that ignoring either side of that equation comes at a cost—sometimes higher than any political suffering.

Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu is a journalist and syndicate writer based in Abuja

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, which commenced in 1999, introduced a distinctive political culture that has since become entrenched in the nation’s democratic practice. Governors automatically emerge as leaders of their political parties in their respective states.

Although this arrangement is not expressly written into the 1999 Constitution or party constitutions as a rigid rule, it has evolved into an accepted political convention. In practical terms, once a governor belongs to a political party, he becomes the undisputed leader of that party in the state.

This “default” leadership status flows from the enormous constitutional powers, financial control, and political influence vested in state governors. Under the 1999 Constitution, governors are the chief executives of their states, control significant public resources, influence appointments, and play central roles in policy direction. These powers naturally position them as dominant actors within the political structure of their states. Political parties, being vehicles for acquiring and exercising power, inevitably gravitate toward the governor as their rallying point.

Critics often argue that this arrangement departs from earlier republican experiences. During Nigeria’s First, Second, and even Third Republics, governors and presidents were not automatically regarded as the formal leaders of their parties at the state or national levels. Party structures were often more independent, with clearer institutional separation between party leadership and executive office holders. However, Nigeria’s political system has evolved significantly since then. The current democratic framework places far greater burden, administrative authority, fiscal control, and political leverage in the hands of governors than was previously the case. It’s about the position!

The emergence of governors as de facto party leaders is not accidental but a result of political evolution shaped by key realities. The 1999 Constitution centralises executive authority in governors, making them the most powerful figures in their states. They also control critical political resources, finances, networks, appointments, and patronage, which are essential for party survival and electoral success. In a competitive electoral environment, incumbency provides structure, visibility, and mobilisation strength that few others can match.

Above all, political parties require unified command; without clear leadership at the state level, factionalism and instability can easily arise.

Imagine the chaos and unhealthy rivalry that could engulf a political party if a sitting governor chose to remain indifferent to party affairs. Competing factions would struggle for supremacy. Conflicting directives could weaken party cohesion. Such fragmentation could easily cost the party elections and governance effectiveness.

Furthermore, when it comes to interfacing between the executive arm at the federal level and party structures within the states, particularly in matters relating to appointments, political negotiations, federal-state collaboration, and reward systems, the governor’s role becomes indispensable. Governors serve as the bridge between national party leadership and grassroots political actors. In fact, Presidents often rely on Governors to win a state 

Just as the President functions as the leader of his party at the national level, governors serving as party leaders in their states create symmetry within the political order. This structure promotes stability, clarity of authority, strategic coordination, and internal discipline.

It is therefore not surprising that across Nigeria’s 21 registered political parties, this practice is widely accepted. Once a governor joins a party, he naturally assumes leadership of that party in the state, not necessarily by proclamation, but by political reality.

While debates may continue about whether this system strengthens internal party democracy or concentrates excessive influence in one individual, its practical utility in maintaining order, direction, and electoral viability cannot be ignored.

The emergence of governors as party leaders in their states reflects the reality on the ground, political necessity, and democratic evolution in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir 

I am speaking out as a concerned sister after my younger brother from Kano, Nigeria, Ismail, was repeatedly contacted on TikTok by individuals claiming to be football agents.

They asked about his football journey and promised trials in another state where “European agents” would scout talented players. However, there was one condition: he had to pay for the registration form.

When I advised Ismail to ask what the form looked like, the so-called agent sent a blurry screenshot of a flashy, unprofessional document with no official logo, no verified organisation, and no connection to recognised bodies like the Nigeria Football Federation or FIFA. That was a big red flag.

According to people with deep knowledge about scouting, real agents do not randomly scout players on TikTok and demand upfront payments. Thankfully, Ismail asked questions before making any decision and did not send any money.

Many young footballers dream of playing professionally, and scammers are exploiting that dream. Parents and players must verify every claim, research every agent, and never pay fees without confirmed legitimacy.

Patience and due diligence can protect young talents from becoming victims. Beware.

Hadiza is Nigerian but writes from Cologne, Germany. She can be contacted via hadiza225@gmail.com.

By Umar Sani Adamu (Kawun Baba)

The defection of Kano State Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf from the New Nigeria Peoples Party, NNPP, to the All Progressives Congress, APC, has exposed more than a political shift. It has laid bare the fragility of slogans elevated above reason and the contradictions within Kano’s dominant political movement.

For years, the phrase “Mayiyan Kano” was used by followers of Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso whenever events did not go their way. It served as a blanket response to court rulings, electoral outcomes, and opposing views. What began as a casual expression gradually hardened into a political shield used to dismiss criticism rather than engage it.

Ironically, Governor Yusuf was once celebrated as the ultimate proof of loyalty to the Kwankwasiyya structure. A report by The Daily Reality during the early phase of his administration went to remarkable lengths to present him as a devoted disciple of his mentor and political godfather. His actions, his rhetoric, and even his body language were framed as evidence of unquestionable allegiance. At the time, loyalty was portrayed as a virtue, and Yusuf was held up as its finest example.

That narrative has now collapsed under the weight of political reality. Following his defection, the same voices that once applauded his loyalty have rushed to brand him disloyal. The sudden moral outrage is striking not because politicians change camps but because of the selective memory at play. If loyalty were absolute, then it should have been defined beyond convenience. If it were conditional, then honesty demands admitting that politics is transactional, not sentimental.

The revival of Makiyan Kano, that’s “The enemy of Kano” or “One who works against the interests of Kano”. In this context reveals its emptiness. Rather than interrogate why a sitting governor would abandon the platform that brought him to power, some loyalists have retreated to slogans. It is easier to chant than to reflect. Easier to accuse than to accept that political authority ultimately rests with individuals, not movements.

What this moment exposes is a deeper problem within Kano politics: the attempt to freeze loyalty in time while ignoring changing realities. Governance is not sustained by personal allegiance to a mentor but by navigating power structures, resources, and national relevance. To pretend otherwise is to confuse political romance with political responsibility.

Supporters of the governor argue that his decision was informed by pragmatism and the pursuit of Kano’s broader interests. Whether one agrees or not, it is a position that deserves debate, not dismissal. Slogans do not govern states. Decisions do.

Makiyan Kano has returned to public discourse, but its meaning has shifted. It no longer signals confidence. It now sounds like frustration. In the end, movements that rely on chants instead of ideas often struggle when reality refuses to cooperate. Kano politics appears to be learning that lesson the hard way.

Umar Sani Adamu (Kawun Baba) wrote via umarhashidu1994@gmail.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

Out of the estimated 1.68 million registered voters in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), only about 239,210 turned out to vote, representing roughly 14–15% voter participation. This figure is not only worrisome but also indicative of a deeper democratic challenge that cannot be ignored.

The 2026 FCT Area Councils elections, therefore, require a thorough post-mortem, an autopsy, so to speak, to uncover the root causes of this low turnout. Was it voter fatigue, dissatisfaction with political actors, lack of awareness, logistical shortcomings, security concerns, or a general loss of confidence in the electoral process? These questions must be carefully examined through data-driven analysis and stakeholder engagement.

Some observers believed the imposed restriction on movement contributed significantly to the low turnout, as it may have discouraged or inconvenienced many eligible voters. Others pointed to what they described as the ruling APC’s overwhelming posture, which some voters perceived as so dominant that their participation would not alter the outcome. In their view, even if they turned out to vote, the APC was certain to win, and their individual votes would not make a meaningful difference.

Addressing this level of voter apathy is critical, especially with the 2027 general elections approaching. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), political parties, civil society organisations, and other relevant authorities, including students of politics, must take proactive steps to rebuild public trust, strengthen voter education, review election-day policies such as movement restrictions, improve logistics, and enhance transparency, as well as conduct an academic analysis of ‘Why’.

A democracy thrives on active citizen participation. If such low turnout persists, it risks weakening the legitimacy of elected officials and undermining public confidence in the democratic system. The lessons from the FCT elections should therefore serve as an urgent call to action to ensure broader voter mobilisation and participation in future electoral cycles.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

In the ever-shifting landscape of Nigerian politics, few moves have sparked as much outrage and disillusionment as Abba’s recent defection from the New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP) to the All Progressives Congress (APC). This decision, announced amid fanfare at the Sani Abacha Stadium in February 2026, is not merely a political realignment but a stark revelation of ideological convergence—one centered on the plunder of public resources. Abba’s embrace of the APC, under the guise of seeking federal support for Kano’s development, mirrors the very looting ethos that defined Abdullahi Ganduje’s tenure as governor. It is no coincidence; the two share a disturbing similarity in their approach to corruption and the mismanagement of Kano’s treasury, turning the state’s wealth into personal fiefdoms while ordinary citizens suffer.

Ganduje’s legacy in Kano is synonymous with brazen corruption, epitomized by the infamous “Gandollar” scandal. In 2018, video footage surfaced showing Ganduje allegedly stuffing bundles of U.S. dollars—amounting to about $5 million—into his pockets, bribes extracted from contractors for state projects. This was no isolated incident; contractors revealed that Ganduje routinely demanded 15 to 25 percent kickbacks on every contract awarded during his administration from 2015 to 2023. The scandal led to investigations by the Kano Public Complaints and Anti-Corruption Commission (PCACC), which uncovered evidence of theft, abuse of office, and familial involvement in graft. Yet, even as charges piled up, including a $413,000 bribery case, Ganduje evaded full accountability, with court rulings limiting state probes and documents mysteriously vanishing during protests in 2024.

More damning is Ganduje’s role in the multi-billion naira Dala Inland Dry Port scandal. As governor, he awarded a N4 billion infrastructure contract for the port, which was meant to include a 20 percent equity stake for Kano State. Instead, he secretly transferred this stake to private entities, making his own children co-owners and denying the state its rightful share. This act of self-enrichment not only siphoned public funds but also exemplified a pattern of mismanaging state assets for personal gain. A key witness in the case was arrested at the airport in a suspicious twist, further fueling suspicions of cover-ups. Ganduje’s administration left Kano’s treasury depleted, with allegations of embezzlement running into billions, all while infrastructure crumbled and public services faltered.

It was precisely this rampant corruption and mismanagement of the public treasury that led to the overthrow of Ganduje and his allies in the 2023 elections. The people of Kano, long burdened by empty promises and drained coffers, had awakened to the realities of governance. They followed every misstep— from the kickback schemes to the vanishing funds—and channeled their frustration into the ballot boxes. The Kwankwasiya movement, with its red cap revolution, swept in on a wave of accountability, electing leaders who pledged to restore integrity. This seismic shift proved that when citizens are vigilant, no looting ideology can withstand the power of an informed electorate.

Now, turn to Abba, whose defection to the APC in January 2026—alongside 22 state assembly members and nine federal lawmakers—has exposed a parallel track record of corruption. Despite campaigning on a platform of zero tolerance for graft, Abba’s administration has been mired in scandals that echo Ganduje’s playbook. In August 2025, a N6.5 billion fraud scheme came to light, involving Abba’s Director-General of Protocol, Abdullahi Rogo, who allegedly diverted state funds through front companies, bureau de change operators, and personal accounts. The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) and Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) launched probes, revealing how these funds were siphoned from the treasury under the noses of top officials.

The scandal widened when Abdulkadir Abdulsalam, then Accountant General and now Commissioner for Community and Rural Development, admitted to authorizing a N1.17 billion payment that formed the basis of the larger fraud. Investigators described it as a sophisticated money laundering operation, diverting resources meant for Kano’s development into private pockets. Civil society organizations, numbering about 20, demanded accountability, accusing Abba’s government of hypocrisy after it had vowed to prosecute Ganduje-era crimes. Even former Secretary to the State Government, Abdullahi Baffa Bichi, lambasted the administration for corruption “tenfold” that of Ganduje’s, citing evidence of mismanagement that could collapse the government before 2027.

These parallels are undeniable: Both leaders have been accused of using state contracts and equity deals to enrich allies and family, with billions vanishing through opaque channels. Ganduje’s dollar-stuffed pockets find a modern echo in Abba’s alleged BDC diversions, both representing a looting ideology that prioritizes personal gain over public welfare. Abba’s defection, justified as a bid for “federal backing and development,” is nothing more than a safe harbor in a party that has shielded Ganduje from full prosecution. It’s a union that undermines the anti-corruption promises Abba once made, aligning him with the very forces that bled Kano dry.

But history teaches us that the people of Kano will not stand idle. Just as they rose in 2023 to dismantle Ganduje’s corrupt empire, they are even more awakened today. Citizens are closely monitoring every government action, from budget allocations to contract awards, and they will not hesitate to enforce change through the ballot boxes come 2027. This defection is a desperate grasp at power, but it will only fuel the resolve of those who demand transparency.

Kano deserves better than this cycle of betrayal. The Kwankwasiya movement, with its unwavering commitment to transparency, education, and equitable development, stands as the true alternative. Founded on principles of integrity under Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, it has consistently exposed and fought such graft, from Ganduje’s era to now. As Abba cozies up to the APC, let this be a wake-up call for Kano’s people to rally behind a movement that puts the treasury in service of the masses, not the elite. The fight against looting ideologies must continue—stronger, unyielding, and rooted in the red cap revolution that truly represents hope for our state.

Dr Umar Musa Kallah is a writer and community advocate and can be reached via kallahsrm@gmail.com.