Opinion

By Hassan Abdulkadir

The Fulani are traditionally a nomadic, pastoralist trading people across the dry hinterlands of their domain. They are the largest nomadic ethnic group in the world, inhabiting several territories over an area larger than the continental United States.

The Fulani follow a code of behaviour known as “PULAAKU,” which encompasses patience, self-control, discipline, prudence, modesty, respect for others (including foes), wisdom, foresight, personal responsibility, hospitality, courage, and hard work.

It wouldn’t be fair to judge an entire faith, religion, or tribe by the actions of a few aberrant individuals. It is more just to evaluate them based on the scriptures and teachings of the faith or the traditions and conventions of the tribe. 

History has shown that some of the greatest massacres committed on this planet were by individuals like Adolf Hitler, a European Jewish Christian. However, his actions were never equated with his religion or tribe. 

Similarly, Benito Mussolini and Menachem Begin, who were responsible for numerous atrocities, were not judged by their faith or tribe. Yet, when a single Fulani or Muslim individual commits an act of terrorism, the entire religion (Islam) or tribe (Fulani) is unjustly blamed.

Moreover, the most infuriating aspect of this situation is that many of these individuals are brainwashed and used by heartless people who are not Fulani. For example, videos circulating online vividly demonstrate this is true. In one instance, an arrested Fulani man explains how much the masterminds paid him after abducting someone. 

The amount given to the Fulani men is not even a quarter of the ransom collected, yet they are still blamed. It’s important to note that some of them are forced into this due to intimidation and life threats by the gangsters. These masterminds exploit the Fulani and Bedouins because they know the bush well. 

For God’s sake, as educated, wise, and prudent individuals, how can anyone believe that the people they consider inept could successfully carry out such complex operations without being caught? They can’t even perfectly operate phones. This is unfair. Such acts require logic, strategies, and prudence. However, due to biased perspectives, Nigerians are generalising the entire tribe instead of targeting the deceived and manipulated individuals among them.

Candidly, the truth must be trumpeted. When our southern brothers say “Hausa-Fulani,” they’re not referring to the tribe but to a Muslim or Northerner, whom they consider terrorists, bandits, and so on. Meanwhile, in some parts of the southern region of this country, there are places where humans are slaughtered like animals. Generalising the Fulani as bandits and terrorists is truly unfair and unjust.

All the calamities this country, especially the North, has been facing—such as insecurity, insurgency, banditry, terrorism, and critical hardship—are not due to the Fulani people but are the result of politics, business, and the selfishness of our unpatriotic and tyrannical politicians.

I urge the youth to be patriotic, equip themselves with adequate and pure knowledge, and engage in politics. The rich also have a crucial role to play by sponsoring these energetic youths in politics for the betterment of our country and for the coming generations to flourish.

May Nigeria prosper and thrive, amin.

Hassan Abdulkadir wrote via hassanabdulqadeerabubakar@gmail.com.

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

The Nation’s clarion call resounds, and the youth—our graduates—respond. The National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) is central to this national narrative. Some may argue that these graduates bask in the comfort of government stipends for a year, while others counter, “How substantial is this money anyway? It’s merely enough to keep body and soul together.”

For many, this stipend transcends mere sustenance; it symbolises stability. Upon completion of their service year, the promise of a regular income dissipates like a mirage. As I approach the conclusion of my service year, my thoughts drift back to a reflection penned in 1993 by Yushau Shuaib, the esteemed publisher of PRNigeria and Economic Confidential.

His words resonate profoundly: “After the National Youth Service, what next? From here, where next? How long have you fantasised about your next port of call after dedicating your life to academic pursuits? Will you further your studies, seek employment, or perhaps get married?” If marriage is part of your post-service plans, ensure you save for the honeymoon.

As my time in NYSC draws to a close, I can’t help but ponder the uncertain future that awaits me and my fellow corps members. For many, this may mark the last time they receive a government-issued salary. Some leave the country for greener pastures, convinced that this nation offers them no future.

Others, however, have jobs waiting for them, merely contingent on their release from service. Yet, many corps members will never earn as much as they did during their service year; some may find even better opportunities, while others remain lost amidst uncertainty. In today’s society, we question: Are we destined to join the legions of unemployed graduates? Is education no longer the key to societal recognition?

We witness individuals with multiple degrees grappling to find viable employment, seemingly rendering education futile. The rise of the “Yahoo boys,” who embody the new elite without formal education, fosters the narrative that “school is a scam.” Our education system requires rigorous restructuring and oversight, but we also need a comprehensive reorientation of our values and aspirations.

One acquaintance is willing to resort to unethical means to secure a job, even contemplating bribery for a lucrative position, craving societal approval. But what of those lacking the financial means or connections? Who stands by us?

The fear of poverty could well be the beginning of misguided pursuits. Might some be tempted to resort to fraud, political thuggery, or even prostitution—now sanitised as “hookups”? Will others turn to terrorism or kidnapping, driven by necessity, as opportunities evaporate in the job market?

Private organizations face significant hiring constraints stifled by economic instability. In fact, many are laying off staff simply to stay afloat—how, then, can they possibly accommodate fresh graduates? What becomes of those of us unwilling to engage in illicit activities? Are we consigned to a life of struggle?

For some, the service year impedes success; for others, it serves as a crucible for personal growth and dream realisation. Some may even decline job offers, viewing the pay beneath them, while others face a daunting lack of direction.

How can we elevate our nation when out of millions of corps members, only a fraction—perhaps five hundred—find meaningful employment? And of those, many receive insufficient compensation to support a family amidst this unforgiving economy. How can youth deprived of job opportunities or financial means to foster their ventures lift our nation?

Nigeria has devolved into a landscape where viable jobs are an elite commodity. In the 70s and 80s, even an O-level holder could readily secure employment; today, the opposite rings true. Are we not at an impasse? Is my generation not doomed to suffer for the decisions of the past? While I believe in humbly serving my nation, this conviction must be matched with tangible opportunities.

To President Bola Ahmed Tinubu: One crucial step toward alleviating terrorism and insecurity is ensuring job security for our youth. An idle mind may indeed become the devil’s workshop. If corps members exit service devoid of decent employment, they may turn to unlawful means for survival, jeopardising our nation’s safety.

In this digital age, AI has transformed many operational processes, executing tasks with unprecedented speed and efficacy. Yet, rather than perceiving AI as a threat to job security for corps members, we should embrace the potential for collaboration, where human creativity meets AI’s efficiency. Mastering this synergy could unlock exceptional possibilities in the workforce.

Mr. President, we recognize the intricacies of governance, but we implore you to prioritise job creation for corps members and youth. We are eager to contribute to national development with commitment and integrity, aspiring to build our nation through unity and loyalty.

To our security agencies: Strengthening your efforts requires greater employment prospects for youth, particularly graduates. Doing so would alleviate the rates of insecurity plaguing our nation. Please take our concerns to the President and collaborate with experts in the field.

We advocate for a specific percentage of corps members to be employed by the government upon the conclusion of each NYSC batch yearly. This initiative would instil hope in the youth, steering them away from crimes and social vices.

We extend our gratitude to the NYSC for the training and life lessons garnered throughout this journey. The NYSC must collaborate with the government to catalyse job creation amid an industrial revolution. Such a partnership would solidify the NYSC’s reputation as a cornerstone for job creation and national growth.

To our legislators, senators, and esteemed members of the National Assembly: We urge you to convene and enact laws that foster job creation through the NYSC scheme, benefitting graduate corps members.

State governments must also step up, providing increased employment opportunities for departing corps members. This collective effort can rekindle hope among the youth and everyday citizens, paving the way for national progress. Nigeria is our home; Nigeria is who we serve.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a candidate for national development and a Mass Communication graduate serving with PRNigeria in Abuja.

By Usman Abdullahi Koli, ANIPR

In the rainbows of history, some leaders leave an indelible mark that time can never erase. Alhaji (Dr.) Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya, the revered Emir of Ningi, was one such leader. His influence reached far beyond the borders of his emirate, touching lives with his wisdom, strength, and dedication to his people. His departure marks the end of an era, a monumental loss not just for Ningi but for the entire nation.

Born in 1936, Alhaji Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya was destined for greatness. His educational journey began at Ningi Elementary School and continued through Bauchi Middle School. He later attended the School of Hygiene in Kano and earned a diploma in Public Administration from Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. Before ascending the throne in 1978, he made significant contributions to the Ningi Emirate Council, the Medical and Health Department, and other critical roles within the region’s governance.

Ningi Emirate, a land steeped in history and resilience, has long held strategic importance in northern Nigeria. Founded by Islamic scholars who migrated from Tsakuwa in Dawakin Kudu Local Government Area of Kano State, the emirate’s origins are rooted in a principled stand against unjust taxation. Throughout his reign, Emir Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya upheld these principles, ensuring that justice, fairness, and equity remained the foundation of his leadership.

As Emir, Alhaji Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya was a steadfast guardian of tradition and a visionary leader who steered Ningi through an era of transformation and progress. Under his leadership, the emirate witnessed significant development initiatives that significantly improved the quality of life for its people. His reign was a masterful balance of tradition and modernity, preserving Ningi’s rich cultural heritage while driving progress.

The people of Ningi hold their late Emir in the highest esteem, remembering him as a just and fair leader deeply committed to their welfare. His passing leaves a void that will be difficult to fill, but his legacy will continue to inspire and guide future generations. 

We are reminded of the Hausa saying, “Kwari garin jan kaya, kwarin da ba ruwa ya ci mutum, da akwai ruwa da ya ci duniya,” which translates to, “The wasp is known for its resilience, even without water, it can take a man down; with water, it could conquer the world.” This saying, deeply rooted in the spirit of the Ningi Emirate, speaks to the enduring strength and determination that defined Emir Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya’s life. 

Another saying resonates within the emirate: “Ko yaki ya ci Ningi, zai bar Dutse,” meaning “Even if war defeats Ningi, it will leave behind its mountains. ” This demonstrates the resilience that the Emir exemplified throughout his reign.

His journey into royalty began in 1959 when he was turbaned as the District Head and Chiroman Ningi. Over the decades, his leadership was marked by wisdom, courage, and commitment to his people. More than just a ruler, he was a mentor, a guardian of tradition, and a beacon of progress. His reign embodied the resilience and strength of the Ningi Emirate, much like the majestic elephant known for its unyielding spirit.

Alhaji (Dr.) Yunusa Muhammad Danyaya’s legacy will forever be etched in the hearts of those he served. As we mourn his passing, we also celebrate a life dedicated to service, leadership, and the upliftment of his people. His contributions to the Ningi Emirate and to Nigeria will never be forgotten. Though the giant has fallen, his impact will continue to resonate for generations to come.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com.

By Mujahid Nasir Hussain

Gashua, a local government area in Yobe state, Nigeria, is facing a distressing public health crisis. An alarming increase in the number of individuals succumbing to kidney diseases is being reported, yet the underlying cause remains unidentified. 

The kidneys are essential organs located in the retroperitoneal part of the body. These bean-shaped organs perform several crucial functions, including blood filtration, blood pressure regulation, electrolyte balance, acid-base balance, blood calcium regulation, and many more. However, when they become impaired, those vital functions are compromised, leading to severe and devastating deterioration and complications.

The rising number of deaths linked to kidney diseases in Gashua is a cause for serious concern. It is impossible to implement effective interventions without identifying the underlying cause, whether environmental, genetic, or related to lifestyle factors. 

The Yobe state government must prioritise an investigation into the root causes of these kidney diseases to find an end to the problem. Public health agencies, researchers, and medical experts should be mobilised to conduct thorough epidemiological studies and screenings to identify potential risk factors. 

In addition, there is also a need to take proactive measures through:

• Raising Awareness:  Educating the community about kidney health, risk factors, and early symptoms of kidney disease to encourage timely medical consultation.
• Enhancing Healthcare Facilities: Improving access to quality healthcare services, including dialysis centres and nephrology specialists, to manage and treat kidney diseases effectively.
• Providing Clean Water: Ensuring the availability of clean drinking water is essential, as contaminated water is a known risk factor for kidney damage. 
• Encouraging Lifestyle Changes: Promoting healthy dietary practices and regular medical check-ups to prevent kidney-related diseases.

Mujahid Nasir Hussain studies at Bayero University, Kano, Nigeria and writes via mujahidhnasir@gmail.com.

By Fatima Musa Yakubu

Family is often called the best gift of life, a place of love and care. Living with family should feel like a blessing, even when some members are so strict.

Parents, even when they are tough, love their children and want the best for their future. As the 12th child in a family of eighteen, I was surrounded by my brothers and sisters. We laughed, played, argued and shared meals together. It was very cheerful and happy moments which I didn’t fully value and appreciate—until I when lost it.

Everything changed when my aunt’s husband died. In Islam, a widow must stay inside her home for 4 months and 10 days, only leaving for exceptionally important excuses. Since my aunt had no children, my grandmother decided I should stay with her to keep her company. I was excited at first, imagining that I would be treated with kindness and have meals all to myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

One Saturday morning, after prayers, I wasn’t feeling well and decided to rest. Suddenly, a sharp slap landed on my face. My aunt, angry for reasons I didn’t know or understand, dragged me out of the bed and beat me badly. Then, she told me my new daily tasks: fetching water from a faraway well, washing dishes, clothes and her car, and sweeping the compound—all before 10am. I was only ten years old then.

According to a report by the International Labour Organization (ILO), more than 15 million children in Nigeria are forced into child labor. Many of these children, like me, are treated unfairly in their own homes by relatives. Instead of going to school, we do heavy chores and endure painful experiences. I was taken out of school for years and suffered in silence.

I wanted to tell my parents about my aunt’s behavior, but I was too afraid. She threatened me, and I feared what she would do if I spoke up. When I made her angry, she beat me with a copper wire, hit my head against the wall or dragged me across the floor. Sadly, this kind of abuses happen to many children living with relatives.

A UNICEF report says that nearly 60% of children in Nigeria who live with extended family face some kind of abuse, often hidden as “discipline.”

Life with my aunt wasn’t just about hard work—it was lonely. I felt isolated and scared all the time. Meanwhile, I watched other children in my neighborhood, also living with relatives, being treated like with kindness of a family. One girl, who I thought was living with her parents, was actually staying with her guardians. They treated her like a queen, sending her to the best school and giving her everything she needed. It was painful to see such a difference.

My suffering ended when I turned fifteen. My aunt, who had treated me like a servant, passed away after falling sick with typhoid. Even7though she hurt me, I felt sad when she died. Over time, I learned to forgive her. As Maya Angelou once said, “We often forgive those who have wronged us, not for their sake, but for our own peace.” This has been true for me.

Today, I am grateful to be alive and well. I am happily married, with two children, and I have returned to school to continue my studies. Looking back, I realize that after every hardship, relief eventually comes. My story is just one example of many.

In Nigeria, more than 7 million children live with extended family due to poverty, loss of parents, or other reasons. Many of them suffer, just like I did. Unfortunately, their stories often remain unheard. According to Human Rights Watch, abuse of children living with relatives is a big problem that needs more attention.

I am sharing my story to let others know that this issue is real and must be addressed. Children who live with relatives deserve the same love and care that their own parents would give them. The Nigerian government and organizations fighting for children’s rights must do more to protect these vulnerable children. Laws against child abuse need to be enforced, so no child has to suffer in silence like me.

To my readers, remember this: after every storm, there is calm. If you are going through a tough time, hold on, relief will come. And for those who can help, we must speak up for children who cannot defend themselves. Every child deserves a life without fear.

Fatima Musa Yakubu writes from the Department of Mass communication,
Bayero University, Kano, Nigeria.

By Usman Muhammad Salihu,

Recently, while scrolling through Facebook, I came across a post by Dr. Muhsin Ibrahim, a lecturer and editor of The Daily Reality. He wrote, “We need to address the issue of buying and selling job offers in Nigeria. It’s disheartening that we no longer condemn this corrupt practice; it’s becoming normalised.” His words hit home, reminding me of my own experience.

A day after graduating from Abubakar Tatari Ali Polytechnic, Bauchi, a familiar acquaintance, approached me and asked, “Now that you’ve graduated, what’s next?” I replied, “NYSC and then maybe looking for a job.” He chuckled and said, “Nigeria is now about who you know or what you have in your pocket. I can help you get a job, but it’ll cost you.” Shocked, I asked, “Where would I get that kind of money?” and walked away, disturbed.

This encounter and Dr. Muhsin’s post made me recall Jibrin, a man I knew in Gombe State. He fell prey to one of these “pay-for-a-job” schemes. Desperate, he sold his house for far below its value to pay the fee, only to end up with neither the job nor the house. Jibrin’s case is sadly not unique. Countless others have been conned by job scammers who vanish, leaving their victims penniless.

The growing prevalence of job trading in Nigeria is alarming. It undermines merit, creating a system where people secure jobs based on connections and bribes rather than qualifications. Deserving candidates are sidelined, while unqualified individuals fill critical roles. This feeds a cycle of corruption, further deepening economic inequality and breeding frustration among the youth.

What is even more troubling is the normalisation of this practice. Instead of condemning the outright sale of jobs, society seems to have accepted it as a new reality. Many young people now believe that they stand no chance in Nigeria’s job market without money or connections. This erodes confidence in a fair system, where hard work and qualifications should decide securing employment.

To tackle this issue, the media needs to lead the charge by highlighting the perils of job trading. The negative impact of this corrupt practice should be exposed through investigative journalism, public debates, and social media campaigns. However, raising awareness alone is not enough. Nigeria needs stronger recruitment regulations, where organisations are held accountable for corrupt hiring practices.

Whistleblowing must be encouraged, and safe and anonymous channels must be provided for reporting job scammers. If potential whistleblowers fear retribution or harassment, they will unlikely come forward, leaving corruption unchecked. The government must establish legal protections and incentives for those who help expose corrupt recruitment activities.

Government agencies and private firms must also ensure transparency in their hiring processes. Job openings should be advertised on official websites with detailed selection criteria. Recruitment processes should be publicised, and there should be clear communication with candidates regarding the status of their applications. This would make it more difficult for corrupt individuals to infiltrate the system and sell job offers.

Civil society organisations and advocacy groups also have a crucial role to play. They can organise awareness campaigns, engage with policymakers, and help victims of job scams seek justice. These groups can push for necessary reforms and create public forums where citizens can voice their concerns.

As individuals, we have a responsibility to reject this corrupt system. We must resist the temptation to pay for jobs, recognising that such actions perpetuate inequality and injustice. By speaking out against job trading and advocating for merit-based recruitment, we contribute to building a more just society. If job seekers refuse to participate in corrupt practices, it will weaken the power of those profiting from them.

In conclusion, job trading is a serious issue in Nigeria, eroding the values of merit and fairness. It is a dangerous practice that widens the gap between the haves and have-nots, promoting a culture of entitlement and greed. This trend needs urgent attention from all sectors of society. Nigeria can combat this corrosive practice through collective action, transparency, and strong legal frameworks and build a future where merit truly matters. It’s time for a change, and the fight starts with each of us.

Usman Muhammad Salihu is a fellow of PRNigeria Young Communication Fellowship 2024. He can be reached via muhammadu5363@gmail.com.

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

As they say, “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” but Bello Matawalle, appointed by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu as Minister for State Defence in 2023, has risen to the challenge. His tenure in office so far is marked by a blend of persistent controversies and significant achievements, with the latter shining a bright light on his leadership and the impact of his decisions.

As Governor of Zamfara state, Matawalle was reported to have taken stringent measures against banditry and insurgency, which led to some success in the fight against terrorism in the Northwestern region.

As such, it is not surprising that he and Mohammed Badaru Abubakar, another former governor of Jigawa State, were appointed Ministers to supervise the defence sector.

This feat was accomplished through military precision and a strategic, forward-thinking focus on infrastructure revitalisation. Their joint efforts led to the rehabilitation of military barracks nationwide, improving the living conditions for soldiers and their families—a clear demonstration of their commitment to the military’s welfare and the future of Nigeria’s defence sector.

A recent major highlight of Matawalle’s leadership was his role in revitalising Nigeria’s defence infrastructure. He worked closely with the Defence Industries Corporation of Nigeria (DICON) and the National Agency for Science and Engineering Infrastructure (NASENI) to establish a domestic arms and ammunition production facility.

This initiative is projected to save Nigeria $60 million annually by reducing the need to import military hardware, marking a significant step towards self-reliance in defence production.

Matawalle’s focus on defence sector reforms to improve efficiency has also caught attention. His reforms are designed to build a more resilient military by streamlining procedures and holding the system accountable.

One of Matawalle’s standout initiatives was his hands-on approach to addressing the grievances of military personnel. His open engagement with soldiers about delayed allowances and welfare issues demonstrated a rare willingness to tackle the heart of the defence system’s morale, evoking empathy for the soldiers and their struggles.

Despite these accomplishments, Matawalle’s tenure has not been without its controversies. Allegations of corruption and mismanagement, along with disputes over his qualification to run the defence ministry, continue to cloud his leadership. Critics question whether these shadows will define his legacy or if his achievements will ultimately shine through.

Born on February 12, 1969, in Maradun, Zamfara State, Matawalle’s educational background includes studies at Yaba College of Technology and the University of West London. His journey from a teacher to a politician has been marked by resilience and a steadfast commitment to public service.

After a successful stint in the Zamfara State House of Assembly during the Abacha regime, he served as a state commissioner before being elected to the House of Representatives in 2003. His political career reached new heights in 2019 when he became the Governor of Zamfara State following a Supreme Court ruling that disqualified the supposed winner.

During his tenure as governor, Matawalle made efforts to address the rampant insecurity in Zamfara State, a region plagued by banditry and violence. He initiated dialogue with various armed groups and made efforts to implement infrastructural projects across the state, including constructing governor’s lodges in all 14 Local Government Areas (LGAs) of Zamfara.

Matawalle’s career reflects a blend of determined public service and significant scrutiny, particularly regarding his financial decisions as governor.

A fanatical loyalist of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Matawalle’s leadership in various capacities during this period laid the groundwork for his current role in national defence, where he continues to confront external threats and internal controversies.

Matawalle must prioritise transparency and communication to secure his legacy, ensuring the public understands his decisions and reforms. His continued focus on the welfare of soldiers and veterans, alongside his strategic defence initiatives, will be crucial in determining whether his story will be one of triumph or a missed opportunity.

The final chapter of Bello Matawalle’s legacy is still being written. The world watches as he walks the fine line between triumph and turmoil. Will he be remembered as a transformative leader, or will the crown’s weight prove too much?

His legacy teeters on the edge, and only time will reveal whether his story is one of greatness or missed opportunity.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a Mass Communication graduate and a corps member with PRNigeria Center, Abuja. He can be reached at exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Jibril Mutalib

The naira notes live a life as colourful as the country itself. This isn’t just any currency—it wears its experiences on its sleeve, or rather, on its creases, tears, and patches. The naira isn’t just a medium of exchange; it’s a survivor with a story that shifts depending on where it finds itself in this country.

In the northern part of the country, the naira is a seasoned warrior. It has seen the depths of pockets unwashed for years and battled with rain and sun, leaving it bruised and wrinkled. Yet, the good people of the North, perhaps because of their warm hospitality, never turn their backs on the naira, no matter how worn out it appears in most cases. 

A naira note in Sokoto could look like it just took a swim in the gutter, got into a wrestling match with a goat, and lost a few limbs. But fear not! The traders in the North would still embrace it with open arms. Ah, my friend,” a northern trader might say, “kudi kudi ne”, whether it looks like a prince or a pauper. 

As long as it can buy me a cup of fura or a plate of Denkeli, it’s good enough!” If your money is rejected, then it must be very bad. Perhaps it might have undergone an abnormal surgery where you have Obafemi Awolowo appear on a #50 naira note. Lol.

But when travelling to other regions, the naira’s fortunes change quicker than you can imagine. In places like Kwara, the naira is subjected to intense scrutiny—borderline interrogation. The traders will examine it like a detective at a crime scene, looking for any sign of distress. A small tear? Rejected. A hint of dirt? Not in my shop! And don’t even think about presenting a naira note with a sellotape surgery—it might as well be a counterfeit. Lol.

So, the naira itself is living a double life in different regions of the country. In the North, it is a rugged hero, loved despite its flaws. In the South, it is an outcast, shunned for the slightest imperfection. I wonder why naira notes are treated so differently based on location. 

And so, if you ever find yourself possessing a naira note that has seen better days, do not despair. Simply tuck it away safely and wait until you return to the northern lands. There, you’ll find a warm welcome for your weary traveller. And remember, it’s not just about having money; it’s about having the right money in the right place.

In any region you find yourself, blend with how they treat the currency. When you’re in Sokoto, bring whatever naira you’ve got—no questions asked. I’m not saying they accept money in Sokoto; they do but on rare occasions. If your money is denied, it’s already very bad beyond repairs.

By Rabi Ummi Umar

Recently, I found myself in the heart of Abuja—a bustling city surrounded by the everyday hustle and bustle of urban life. The streets were alive with activities—commercial drivers calling out for passengers, pedestrians hurrying to their destinations, and the overall pace of the city reflecting the urgency of modern life.

Though an intern, I was there with some female staff writers of Economic Confidential, a tabloid published by Image Merchants Promotion (IMPR) Limited. This, however, was not for leisure or sightseeing but for an official assignment—to shoot an episode of ‘Economy on the Streets’ for the Economic Confidential’s YouTube channel. Yet, what caught my attention was something that went beyond the task at hand, revealing a deeper issue about women’s involvement in public discourse.

As a budding communicator, this ‘field trip’ was more than just an opportunity to write news stories, features, or opinion pieces. It was a chance to extend my skills beyond the written word, to engage directly with the public through a street interview—what we call a vox pop—to gauge Nigerians’ thoughts on the contentious issue of the reintroduction of fuel subsidies.

It was also a chance to experience the realities of journalism beyond the confines of a newsroom. To my surprise, I noticed that most of the respondents were men. Conversely, women seemed reluctant to lend their voices or share their opinions on the matter.

At first, I rationalised that perhaps the women were in a hurry, given that it was a weekday. I thought they might not have a few minutes to discuss Nigeria’s pressing economic challenges as more important tasks were awaiting them.

However, as the seconds, minutes, and hours ticked by and the number of women who declined to participate grew, it became clear that they did not want to discuss our nation’s challenges.

This realisation took me back to last year when I was on my Student Industrial Work Experience Scheme (SIWES) with News Digest, an online media platform. I was invited as a guest on WE FM (106.3), a radio station in Abuja, to discuss “Women Participation in Politics.”

During that discussion, I argued passionately that there were insufficient opportunities for women to engage in politics, and I stood firmly by my belief. Yet, a year later, my experience during the street interviews has led me to question this stance. The opportunities, it seems, are indeed out there.

On the streets, even though these women were not holding political office themselves, they had the chance to contribute to public discourse. Yet, they chose not to. This realisation troubles me because it raises questions about women’s participation in public life—whether in political offices or the organised private sector.

We frequently hear discussions about gender equality, inclusivity, roles, and the presence of women in positions of power. However, when we look deeper, we might find that men are not the primary reason women like myself remain on the periphery of public discourse or power.

As women, we may contribute to our marginalisation by refusing to seize opportunities, even when they are right before us. This brings me to a few questions we should all consider: Are women not given opportunities because men seek to dominate?

Are women holding themselves back because society expects them to remain confined to domestic roles? Are we, as women, making efforts to break free from these constraints? Or are we simply holding ourselves back?

While I leave these questions for you to ponder, I want to call on women to recognise that opportunities exist to showcase our capabilities, our capacity to deliver, and much more. We should strive to reach our goals based on what we have to offer.

But we must start somewhere, even if it’s as simple as participating in a street interview. Your voice is vital to society’s prosperity. No matter how insignificant you may think your contribution is, your participation in various aspects of society, community, and the nation at large matters more than you realise. Your voice truly matters.

Rabi Ummi Umar is a student of Al-Hikmah University, Ilorin. She can be reached at rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Yusuf Tela

Introduction 

In many societies, women are constantly reminded of their roles as wives and mothers. They are saddled with the responsibilities of producing and nurturing children and caring for the home. Over the years, however, women have embarked on a struggle aimed at affirming their identities while at the same time doing all they can to transform the societal, cultural, or traditional perceptions of their gender. Women are striving very hard to change these perceptions through education and by creating awareness.

Female writers have significantly helped by making the female characters in their works more prominent. They aim to have female characters that are powerful and outspoken. This is because women in most male writings are often illustrated as subservient. 

In 1966, Flora Nwapa broke the silence of women by publishing her first novel, Efuru, inspiring other female writers. These women used literature to explain the state of their societies, either good or bad, and the importance of female existence in society. These feminist writers include Zaynab Alkali, Buchi Emecheta, Mobolaji Adenubi, and Hilary Rouse-Amadi.

Notably, Azizah, like other female writers, has been able to outline the following feminist angles in her book, A Sackful of Wishes.   

Cultural Feminism:

Cultural feminism celebrates human attributes in women. It focuses on the feminist virtues by celebrating the positive sides of women. In A Sackful of Wishes of Azizah Idris M., Inna Binta, Hadiza’s mother, is a character who portrays aspects of cultural feminism. Inna Binta is a calm, reserved woman who faces a lot of tragedies as a new bride to Mallam Musa. She is hated and manipulated by her co-wife, Mairo Lauje. Inna Binta’s character shows a woman with patience despite the confrontations she faced from Mama Mairo. Cultural feminism believes that there is strength in a woman’s silence. They see the strength in women in the face of oppression. 

Hadiza’s mother, Inna Binta, could endure hardship from her co-wife or return to her parents. Binta remains strong even when Mairo Lauje makes her evil plot to charm her into never staying in Mal Musa’s house. 

Despite all the plots, Binta says, “It’s okay, I can do that . . .as long as she lets me stay with you. You are worth it.”

It is evident from the above quote that Binta, as being put in the cultural feminism, wanted peace for herself, her husband, and her children; that was why she heeded Mama Mairo’s deal. At this point, the cultural feminists view the mother’s strength as crucial. “Mothers have to be strong to take on both roles, loving, protecting, and counselling in turns” (Ngcobo 536).

Marxist feminism: 

The Marxist feminist approach propounded by Karl Marx is embedded in this work. The author portrays Hadiza Musa as someone who earnestly wants to earn for herself and feed her children. When she faces hunger, starvation and poverty, Hadiza immediately engages in a skilled job to take care of her children. She was into plaiting people’s hair and got an immense reward in cash. Hadiza becomes her own woman, independently sourcing and feeding herself and her children. 

It should be noted that Marxist feminists connect the oppression of women to social exploitation and oppression. A Sackful of Wishes by Azizah Idris M. majorly portrays an oppression of the female gender. According to Sotunsa, Marxist feminists believe that male domination is one of the societal ills, and gender oppression must be overcome to overcome societal ills. Hadiza resists the dominance of her husband, AR, whom society believes she needs to bow to. In the text, Hadiza says:  

“I want to start a business.” 

“I don’t have enough money, but I have skill in weaving hair. So, I’m going to start making people’s hair, I want your permission.” (129)

When her husband, AZ, decides to stop her, Hadiza says:

You can’t stop me, you know. You don’t feed me, nor clothe me, you don’t know how I buy my detergent or my body cream or provide the needs of Maahir. You just go out and come home. Some nights, you would try to come near me. Why do you think I got the money for those perfumes and creams that make me feel smooth and appealing to you? You either man up and hold on to your responsibilities or you let me start a business. (129)    

Fortunately for Hadiza, she wins the battle to make people’s hair after Umma Sala, Abdurrazak’s mother, intervenes.   

In portraying her bizarre situation, Hadiza was quoted as thus: 

I resorted to selling two of my wrappers from Mahir’s naming gifts to buy some foodstuffs since I was so heavy, I could not plait my customers’ hair at this stage. I found it difficult to sit for long. They did not sell for much. I saved some of the cash because I knew my situation, and I could need it anytime. I bought some spaghetti and vegetables. My sisters came to check on me the next day. We ate and chatted, and I even gave them some transport fare. Nobody would think things were amiss in my house. (141) 

Another portrayal of Marxist feminism in the text is in the character of Umma Sala, Abdurrazak’s mother. Umma is the boss of the house because her husband, Abdurrazak’s father, is not earning much, and she’s making money with her food business. 

As it turns out, Umma took over control of the house. With her business as a food vendor and other small businesses, whenever she did something in the house, she billed it to Baffa. Whether he had it or not, he would pay when he got some money. 

Radical Feminism: 

A Sackful of Wishes by Azizah Idris M. portrays richly a form of radical feminist approach. Radical feminists view society fundamentally as a patriarchy in which men dominate and oppress women. According to Shulamith Firestone, radical feminists seek to abolish the patriarchy in a struggle to liberate women and girls from an unjust society by challenging existing social norms and institutions. This struggle includes opposing the sexual objectification of women, raising public awareness about such issues as rape and violence against women. 

The central character, Hadiza Musa, exhibits a taste of radical feminism as a woman who mysteriously falls in love with a man so obsessed with her that Hadiza rebels against her husband’s oppressive behaviours. The radical feminism inked in the work portrays Hadiza as a woman who stays firmly and fights against starvation, rape, humiliation, and disrespect from her husband and, subsequently, his. Hadiza Musa rebels to the extent that she leaves her husband’s house several times out of her mother’s frustration and anger. 

Hadiza states that: 

I was fed up with my life. I was just twenty-five years old, but I had seen the difficulties of a sixty-year-old’s lifetime. I did not put on fancy clothes, nor did make-up appeal to me. I had forgotten how to laugh heartily, my soul was a wreck, my spirit in shambles. I was a walking time bomb waiting to explore. The things I bore in my chest were unimaginable. I had a sackful of wishes that I craved, that I needed to explore but could not do that because I was a coward. There, that’s it. (172)

Her rebellious act makes her stand tall against society, which tends to make her return to her horrible marriage. With the assistance of her brother, Yusuf, Hadiza can take the matter to court. She perseveres despite the intricacies of her husband, Abdurrazak, until she finally gets a favourable judgment dissolving the marriage.  

Conclusion

A Sackful of Wishes is one of the many texts that portray the difficulties, hardships, pain, angst, and oppression women experience in their marriages. It is one of the works that uses a feminist approach to fight for women’s freedom and free them from society’s shackles. 

Thus, it is evident from the text that there still exists a repressive and hostile environment against women. The text shows how young Hadiza faces and traverses through oppression and pain from her psychopath husband and his mother. 

Abdullahi Yusuf Tela wrote via abdullahiyusuftela@yahoo.com.