Lifestyle

By Lawal Dahiru Mamman

Nigeria has long been a fascinating case study. Over the past two years, citizens have endured austerity. Government officials, whenever handed the microphone, have often likened the experience to that of a child who must first endure the prick of a needle before receiving the protection of a vaccine.

At the macro level, things are taking shape. The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) recently reported the highest Net Foreign Exchange Reserve (NFER) in over three years. According to the April report, the figure marked an increase from $3.99 billion at the end of 2023 to $8.19 billion in 2022 and $14.59 billion in 2021. 

Analysts say this reflects a substantial improvement in the country’s external liquidity, reduced short-term obligations, and renewed investor confidence. The naira, which had been on a steep downward path toward ₦2,000, has rebounded to around ₦1,400—its strongest level in months—as it rallies against the dollar in both official and parallel markets. 

It is on track to end the year on a firm note, buoyed by the growing forex reserves. Additionally, the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) reported that Nigeria’s headline inflation rate dropped to 18.02% in September 2025, while also announcing an increase in its Consumer Price Index (CPI)—a measure of the change in prices paid by consumers for a basket of goods and services.

The Gross Domestic Product (GDP) has also recorded a growth rate of 3.13 per cent, particularly following the rebasing exercise. Despite these improvements, the common argument remains that such progress has not truly trickled down to the micro level.

Most recently, however, food prices in markets across the country have begun to decline—particularly for rice, a staple that holds a special place in Nigerian households. While consumers have welcomed the news with relief, there is a flipside: farmers are crying out.

In truth, while lower prices delight the markets, they have left many farmers struggling to recover their investments. The government attributes the decline to increased local production through its interventions. Although the federal government opened a window for zero-duty importation of food items, the Minister of State for Agriculture and Food Security, Aliyu Sabi Abdullahi, insists that the fall in prices is due to large-scale agricultural investments under the National Agricultural Growth Scheme (NAGS) Agro-Pocket programme.

Farmers, however, tell a different story. They argue that the massive importation of food items has driven down local prices and left them incurring heavy losses. This is why, as a nation, we must proceed with caution. In reality, low prices can discourage cultivation—especially during periods of high input costs—threatening future harvests and deepening food insecurity.

There must be a balance between food security, farmers’ prosperity, and government intervention. Farmers should be supported through affordable credit, agricultural extension services, and guaranteed market access. The distribution of fertiliser to smallholders and the deployment of new tractors to Agricultural Mechanisation Service Centres will further help to reduce production costs and increase efficiency.

The current situation presents an apparent dilemma. While lower prices may bring short-term relief to consumers, prolonged losses could cripple agricultural productivity and strengthen dependence on imports—placing Nigeria’s food future at risk.

In all that we do, we must choose our approach carefully. Do we import food items to slash prices and win temporary public approval, if indeed such imports are genuine? Or do we double down on domestic production to achieve true self-sufficiency—especially in crops we can grow ourselves?

We must choose our pills carefully. Agriculture was once abandoned for oil, and we paid dearly for importing refined products while neglecting local refineries. Now that there is renewed interest in cultivation, we must not repeat the same mistake.

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

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Nigeria’s long struggle with disease outbreaks has repeatedly shown how weak communication systems can worsen health emergencies.

In recent years, states have battled diphtheria, malaria, meningitis, Lassa fever, cholera and measles, often without clear public guidance at the peak of outbreaks.

In many cases, rumors travelled faster than official updates. Fear spread before facts reached the public. Misinformation filled the gaps left by delayed or poorly coordinated communication.

With memories of these challenges still fresh, the Kano State Centre for Disease Control (KNCDC) has launched a major step meant to strengthen outbreak communication.

This comes through a three-day workshop in Zaria, supported by the Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office (FCDO) Lafiya Programme.

The initiative seeks to unite health agencies, media professionals, risk communication experts and government institutions to create a stronger, faster and more reliable information system ahead of future outbreaks.

Officials say the programme will help states avoid the costly lessons of the past. During Nigeria’s diphtheria crisis, many communities were unaware of symptoms before outbreaks escalated.

During meningitis outbreaks, myths overshadowed medical guidance in some states. During the COVID-19 pandemic, conflicting messages damaged public trust.

These experiences, experts say, prove that communication failures can be as deadly as the diseases themselves.

The Director-General of KNCDC, Prof. Muhammad Adamu Abbas, declared the workshop open. He said the goal is no longer just to respond to outbreaks, but to communicate with clarity, speed and authority.

“This workshop is about building a united front — where health officials, journalists, and communication experts speak with one voice, guided by facts and science,” Prof. Abbas stated.

He described the partnership with FCDO-Lafiya as strategic, timely and necessary. He commended the organisation for sustained support in improving Nigeria’s health emergency systems.

He added that communication must stand alongside testing, vaccination and treatment in outbreak control.

Participants were drawn from health institutions, media organisations, government agencies and civil society groups.

They are expected to co-design a communication framework that prioritises rapid information flow, public engagement, rumor control and stakeholder alignment.

Facilitators will lead sessions on crisis media handling, digital risk communication, misinformation control, emergency coordination and broadcast-ready public messaging for disease outbreaks.

The workshop will also include group simulations, panel discussions and field scenarios aimed at turning knowledge into practice.

Public health analysts have strongly welcomed the initiative. They say outbreak preparedness in Nigeria must go beyond medical response. They argue that a well-informed public remains one of the strongest defenses during a health emergency.

Observers say Kano is taking a rare but necessary lead. Many states, they note, still lack structured outbreak information systems. Some states depend solely on federal communication during epidemics, leaving gaps in local response messaging.

Some wait until outbreaks are full-blown before launching public awareness efforts. Health experts warn that this delay has repeatedly cost lives.

By moving toward a structured communication plan, Kano is now positioning itself as one of the best prepared subnational systems in outbreak information management.

The workshop continues throughout the week, with officials stating that the final outcome will be a deployable outbreak communication model meant to guide real-time response within Kano and potentially across other Nigerian states.

By Maryam Ahmad

The Maldives has become the first country in the world to implement a generational ban on tobacco use, marking a historic step in global public health policy.

According to a statement from the Ministry of Health, anyone born after January 2007 will be permanently prohibited from purchasing, using, or being sold tobacco products within the country. The measure aims to create a tobacco-free generation and reduce the long-term health and environmental impacts of smoking.

Health officials described the policy as part of the government’s broader strategy to curb non-communicable diseases and promote healthier lifestyles among young people in the Maldives.

The Maldives joins a small but growing list of nations considering similar “smoke-free generation” initiatives, with New Zealand having previously proposed a comparable plan before it was repealed.

Authorities say enforcement guidelines and public education campaigns will accompany the new law to ensure effective implementation and community support.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

I preach kindness every now and then—kindness to a spouse, kids, parents, relatives, and others in our lives. But today, I want to dwell on the most crucial kindness… kindness to oneself.

This is a kindness that goes beyond this dunya (this world); a kindness that rewards you with the best of here and the hereafter. Being kind to oneself has many faces, but I’ll discuss the most important ones here:

Prioritising the Akhirah Over the Dunya

This world is merely a temporary place. Try as much as you can to resist the temptation of indulging in sins. Strive to stop any act that you would not love to die doing. Stop procrastinating regarding good deeds. We do not know when our lives will end; no one gives us notice. We owe ourselves this profound kindness: preparing for the inevitable.

The Investment of Sadaqah (Charity)

Giving out sadaqah, even if it’s merely half a date, expiates sins and prevents tragedy. We often spend a great deal on ourselves without calculation, yet when it comes to giving to others, we hold back and start calculating. What we forget is that whatever we give out is multiplied and comes back to us many times over. Whatever we spend only on ourselves ends here.

But you see, when we make other people’s lives easier, lessen their burden, or make them feel better, Allah multiplies that, and the reward is for both here and the hereafter. Whenever we spend on ourselves, let’s try to include those who are less privileged. We are not only helping others; we are being incredibly kind to ourselves beyond this dunya.

The Perpetual Reward of Sadaqah Jariyah (Ongoing Charity)

Let’s discuss Sadaqah Jariyah—a charity, in which the reward continues to reach you even after your death. We can achieve this through various means, such as investing in raising pious children, teaching the Quran, performing good deeds, drilling a source of water, contributing to an Islamic school or any other worthy cause, even if we can’t afford to sponsor it entirely, planting trees, etc.

We benefit more from this benevolence than the people it was intended for. We truly owe it to ourselves to show this type of kindness.

Cultivating Great Relationships

Cultivating good relationships with others, elevating their mood and ranks, making them feel great about themselves, and improving the quality of their lives are powerful ways we can be kind to ourselves. These are the investments that make people miss us and sincerely pray for us after we are gone. We owe this kindness to ourselves—being able to invoke the feeling of longing, missing, and praying for us when we are no longer here.

Sustaining Spiritual Well-being; keeping our mouth moist with Zikr (remembrance of Allah), Istighfar (seeking forgiveness), and Salawat (blessings upon the Prophet); reading the Quran; and constantly upgrading our knowledge and practice of our Deen (religion) is a kindness to ourselves that we should never compromise.

Integrity and Truthfulness

Saying the truth, having integrity and decency, minding one’s business, and having a halal (lawful) source of income is a profound kindness we owe ourselves, for this will be a shield from the Hellfire.

Simple, multiplied deeds

You see, a simple gesture—smiling at strangers, a kind word, an encouraging nod, removing a harmful object from the road, helping or feeding animals, or watering a plant—will go a long way in benefiting us here and hereafter. Angels are praying to Allah that whoever gives out, may Allah increase his wealth, and whoever withholds his wealth, may Allah withhold His blessings from him. So we should never forget that whatever we do, small or big, we shall receive it in multiples.

Being Intentional

One crucial thing I’d like to remind us here is to be intentional about everything we do. Let’s always ensure that our deeds and actions, big or small, are motivated by the reward of our Creator. Let every action or inaction emanate from the craving for Allah’s Rahma (Mercy) and the fear of His punishment. This, indeed, is the biggest kindness we owe ourselves.

Lemme stop here..

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

By Muhammad Abubakar

Efforts to strengthen vaccine delivery systems across northern Nigeria received a major boost as the All Babies program, implemented by New Incentives – All Babies Are Equal (NI-ABAE), convened a two-day Roundtable Meeting of Cold Chain Stakeholders in Kano.

Held at Tahir Guest Palace from October 24 to 25, the meeting brought together 35 participants from state and zonal cold chain offices, development partners, and the Kano State Primary Health Care Board. The focus was on improving coordination, data management, and logistics in vaccine distribution across 14 northern states.

During the technical session, program officials presented encouraging results from the third quarter of 2025. Katsina and Zamfara states recorded the sharpest declines in zero-dose infants, each achieving a 40-percentage-point reduction, while Kaduna saw a 15-point drop. So far, All Babies has enrolled over 5.6 million infants, supported 7,128 clinics, and facilitated more than 85 million vaccinations through conditional cash transfers to caregivers.

Stakeholders at the meeting resolved to improve real-time vaccine data reporting through Nigeria’s OpenLMIS platform, enhance coordination between state and local levels, and push for increased transportation funding via the Association of Local Governments of Nigeria (ALGON) to ease vaccine movement to remote areas.

Niger State’s Cold Chain Officer, Abubakar Hussaini, praised the program’s impact, saying, “All Babies has done a great job increasing vaccination awareness and turnout. We hope the program expands nationwide so every child benefits from these life-saving vaccines.”

The roundtable ended with a joint communiqué reaffirming partners’ commitment to ensure that every child, regardless of location, receives timely and essential vaccines.

By Mujahid Nasir Hussain

Every human brain tells a story: of love, memory, and motion. Yet, for many Nigerians, these stories are being erased silently by diseases that steal what it means to be human. Alzheimer’s disease, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), Parkinson’s disease, and other neurodegenerative disorders are creeping into our society, affecting not only the elderly but, increasingly, middle-aged adults as well. Their signs often begin subtly: a forgotten name, a misplaced key, and a trembling hand, until the symptoms grow into something that shatters families and identities alike.

I am writing this piece after World Mental Health Day (October 10) to raise awareness about these devastating but often misunderstood brain disorders, and to emphasise why Nigeria must invest in research that explores the molecular roots of neurodegeneration. Behind every fading memory is a biological story waiting to be told; one that may hold the key to prevention, treatment, and hope.

Globally, neurodegenerative diseases are among the fastest-growing causes of disability and death. According to the World Health Organisation, over 55 million people currently live with dementia, and nearly 10 million new cases are recorded each year. Alzheimer’s disease accounts for about 60–70% of these cases. The burden is not only medical but also social and economic, as families face the heartache of caring for loved ones who may no longer recognise them.

In Africa, the crisis is quietly intensifying. A report by Alzheimer’s disease International estimates that by 2050, over 12 million Africans could be living with dementia, a staggering increase that health systems are unprepared for. In Nigeria, accurate statistics are scarce, but hospital reports and community surveys show a growing number of undiagnosed neurodegenerative cases among the elderly. Unfortunately, in many communities, symptoms of neurodegeneration are still seen through the lens of superstition. Some families attribute forgetfulness to witchcraft or punishment from the gods. As a result, patients are hidden away, untreated, and stigmatised, even when medical help could improve their quality of life.

But beyond the surface symptoms lies a world of molecular complexity. In every neuron, RNA and proteins work together in precise harmony, regulating gene expression and cell responses to stress. These molecules form small, dynamic structures known as RNA–protein assemblies that constantly change shape and function in response to the brain’s needs. When this spatio-temporal regulation is disrupted, the way these structures behave across time and space is disrupted, it can cause proteins to misfold and clump together. These toxic clumps interfere with brain cell function, triggering the gradual degeneration that characterises diseases like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. Think of it like a city whose garbage collectors suddenly go on strike. Waste piles up, streets become impassable, and normal life grinds to a halt. That’s what happens inside the brain when these molecular systems fail. The result is memory loss, confusion, speech problems, tremors, and ultimately, the loss of independence.

Sadly, this understanding of disease mechanisms has not yet translated into practical awareness or local solutions in Nigeria. Our health sector remains focused on infectious diseases like malaria, tuberculosis, and HIV, which are undeniably urgent but overshadow chronic illnesses that also deserve attention. Neurodegenerative conditions receive very little research funding, and only a handful of Nigerian universities have well-equipped neuroscience or molecular biology laboratories. This lack of infrastructure makes it difficult for scientists to explore how environmental, nutritional, and genetic factors specific to African populations contribute to neurodegeneration.

We cannot afford to ignore this any longer. With Nigeria’s population ageing rapidly, the number of people at risk of dementia will rise sharply in the next decade. Families and caregivers already face immense emotional and financial strain. A 2023 study published in Frontiers in Public Health noted that dementia caregiving in Africa often leads to burnout, poverty, and social isolation, especially among women who bear most of the burden. This is more than a medical issue; it is a public health and human rights concern.

Raising awareness is the first step. Nigerians need to understand that persistent memory loss, tremors, or difficulty performing everyday tasks are not normal parts of ageing. They may signal conditions that require medical attention. Community health workers should be trained to identify these early signs, and hospitals should include basic neurological screening as part of routine check-ups for older adults.

The second step is research. As a physiologist, I believe that Nigeria’s greatest untapped potential lies in our young scientists and natural resources. There is growing evidence that certain plant-derived compounds, including those found in Habbatus Sauda (black seed) and other indigenous herbs, have neuroprotective properties. Exploring how these natural products influence RNA–protein interactions could open pathways to affordable treatments tailored to our local context. If supported, Nigerian research could not only advance understanding but also drive innovation in neurodegenerative disease therapy.

Finally, there is the matter of policy. The Nigerian government and health agencies must recognise brain health as a national priority. We need a National Brain Health Initiative, one that funds research, trains neurologists, supports caregivers, and integrates neuroscience into medical education. Just as we have campaigns for malaria and maternal health, we should have campaign awareness for dementia, Parkinson’s, and other neurodegenerative diseases. Without deliberate action, the human and economic costs will be overwhelming in the coming decades.

Our brains define who we are. To lose them is to lose ourselves, and yet millions are slipping away unnoticed. This World Mental Health Day, let us broaden the conversation beyond depression and anxiety to include the silent epidemic of neurodegenerative diseases. Let us replace stigma with understanding, neglect with action, and fear with hope. Nigeria must awaken to this reality — that the future of our nation depends not only on the health of our hearts and bodies but also on the preservation of our minds.

Mujahid Nasir Hussain is a physiologist and an explorative researcher in biomedical sciences with a particular focus on Molecular mechanisms underlying neurodegenerative disorders.

By Abdullahi Adamu

Poor health facilities in Nigeria stem from severe underfunding, causing inadequate infrastructure, outdated equipment, drug shortages, and breakdowns in essential services like electricity and clean water. This affects rural and primary healthcare centres most, where facilities are dilapidated and staff insufficient. A shortage of medical professionals and brain drain overloads the system, leading to increased medical tourism and poor outcomes. Healthcare access is severely limited due to various systemic factors. 

Misconceptions about primary health care and poor leadership have hindered the health system, which hasn’t aligned its structures to achieve universal health access. Improving financial access alone won’t suffice without comprehensive primary health care reform to fix system flaws, deliver quality, efficient, acceptable care, and ensure sustainability and growth for the health system and country. A primary health care movement of government health professionals, the diaspora, and stakeholders is needed to drive this change and overcome political inertia.

In 2014, the National Health Act established the Basic Health Care Provision Fund (BHCPF) to address funding gaps hampering effective primary healthcare delivery across the country. The BHCPF comprises 1% of the federal government Consolidated Revenue Fund (CRF) and additional contributions from other funding sources. It is designed to support the effective delivery of Primary Healthcare services, provision of a Basic Minimum Package of Health Services (BMPHS), and Emergency Medical Treatment (EMT) to all Nigerians.

Despite the provisions of the BHCPF, the report’s findings expose the precarious state of healthcare in Nigeria, where access to and utilisation of health services remain marred by systemic challenges across states.

Public health facilities in all 36 states and the FCT are deficient, and the experiences of community members seeking care at these facilities are consistently awful.

Primary Health Care (PHC) is the foundation of the healthcare system in Nigeria and serves as the level at which non-emergency, preventive health issues are addressed. But sadly, many PHC centres in the FCT are poorly equipped and lack well-trained personnel.

 Kulo PHC was built with solid infrastructure and equipped with solar panels as part of a 2019 federal initiative aimed at strengthening primary care in hard-to-reach areas. Today, that promise lies in ruins. The solar panels are now dysfunctional—some stolen, others damaged by harsh weather and lack of maintenance. At night, the clinic plunges into darkness, leaving staff to work by torchlight or with dying cell phone batteries.

Three patients on life support at Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital were reported dead following an interruption to the hospital’s electricity supply by Kano Electricity Distribution Company.

The basic causes of Nigeria’s deteriorating health care system are the country’s weak governance structures and operational inefficiencies.

In 2014, the National Health Act established the Basic Health Care Provision Fund (BHCPF) to address funding gaps hampering effective primary healthcare delivery across the country. The BHCPF comprises 1% of the federal government Consolidated Revenue Fund (CRF) and additional contributions from other funding sources. It is designed to support the effective delivery of Primary Healthcare services, provision of a Basic Minimum Package of Health Services (BMPHS), and Emergency Medical Treatment (EMT) to all Nigerians.

Despite the provisions of the BHCPF, the report’s findings expose the precarious state of healthcare in Nigeria, where access to and utilisation of health services remain marred by systemic challenges across states.

Public health facilities in all 36 states and the FCT are deficient, and the experiences of community members seeking care at these facilities are consistently awful.

The Basic Health Care Provision Fund (BHCPF) was poorly implemented in 13 states.

The basic causes of Nigeria’s deteriorating health care system are the country’s weak governance structures and operational inefficiencies

Abdullahi Adamu wrote via nasabooyoyo@gmail.com. 

By Hauwa Mohammed Sani, PhD

I thought I was making a simple, kind gesture—choosing an older gentleman’s cab late one night after a long flight. I figured it would be an easy ride. What unfolded next wasn’t just a navigation problem; it was a bizarre, real-time collision between the old way of the world and the new, AI-driven one. This true story of a taxi ride truly happened to me last week.

​It was late, the kind of late where the airport lights look sickly and the air is thick with fatigue. I needed a ride. Looking over the line of sleek, modern taxis, my eye landed on one driven by an old man—a true gentleman of the road, old enough to be my own grandfather. A small surge of pity, mixed with a desire to give him the fare, made me choose him. Little did I know, I wasn’t just hopping into a cab; I was walking into a generational drama.

​The man knew the general area of my destination, but finding the exact estate became an odyssey. We drove, we turned, we asked passersby—a frantic, real-world search in a fog of darkness and street names. Frustrated, I reviewed the apartment information on my phone and saw a contact number within the address details. I called it.

​The voice on the other end was bright and American. “Oh, that’s my apartment, but I live in the U.S.,” she cheerfully informed me. “I’ll have someone call you.”

​True to her word, a local contact called back. “I’ve sent you the location,” she said. “Just Google it.”

​And there was the rub. My driver—a man whose mind held a living map of the city’s every alley and backstreet—and I, a modern traveller, stared at each other. Neither of us was familiar with using Google Maps.

​The poor old man was desperate. “What are the landmarks? Describe the building!” he pleaded into the night air. The girl on the phone, however, was stubbornly one-dimensional: “Just follow the GPS. Google the location.”

​That’s when it hit us both. In that moment, the taxi cab became a time capsule. Here were two people operating on landmarks, intuition, and human description, battling against an AI generation that has completely outsourced its sense of direction. Simple communication—a left at the bakery, a right past the big tree—was utterly lost.

​The driver was absolutely fuming. He kept grumbling, “Where is our sense of reasoning? They’re being machine is programming them!” To him, this reliance on tech wasn’t progress; it was the crippling of a fundamental human skill. He saw creativity and simple reason dying, replaced by a glowing screen that gives an answer but can’t hold a conversation.

​We eventually found the place, not by Google, but by a final, desperate, human description from a local. But the lesson lingered: Technology is fantastic, but sometimes, when it replaces basic common sense, it really can feel useless. We need to remember how to read the world, not just the map.

The Climax: The Race for the Flight

The next day, it was time for my return. The old man—who I now affectionately called Papa—had promised to pick me up. He came, but he was late. I kept calling, reminding him of my flight and the town’s busy roads. He assured me we would take an “outskirt” route with no traffic.

We found otherwise.

The clock was racing, and the roads were choked. In his confusion, the poor man even pulled into a station to buy fuel, a detour that felt catastrophic. But the beautiful part? He kept accepting his mistakes. He was frantic, not defensive. We kept running against the clock, fueled by mutual anxiety.

By the time we reached the terminal, the counter was closed.

“Hajiya,” he said, using the Hausa honorific reserved for me, the Yoruba man’s passenger. “Don’t worry about the fare. Just run. Run and make your flight first.”

I rushed in and had to beg the counter staff to issue my ticket. I became the last passenger on the flight, all thanks to a desperate sprint.

The Unbreakable Trust

A display of profound, inter-tribal trust eclipsed that moment of panic. Here was Papa, a Yoruba man, sending off Hajiya, a Hausa woman, without a dime for his service, instructing me not to worry about payment until I was safely at my destination.

He kept calling me after I took off, checking on my travel and praying I made my connection. Not once did he mention money.

It wasn’t until I reached out and said, “Papa, please send me your account details,” that the drama of the day resumed (as expected, getting that detail was another adventure!). But in the long run, I paid Baba a generous amount—one he met with a flood of heartfelt prayers for my future.

This journey, from a confusing GPS battle to a race against the clock, taught me the most significant lesson: amidst all the conflict and generational friction, there is still peace and trust in connection. 

As I work on our research for the University of Essex London on conflict resolution and prepare for my ‘Build Peace’ conference in Barcelona, I realise that sometimes the greatest examples of peace aren’t in treaties, but in a simple promise between a Yoruba taxi driver and his Hausa passenger.

Hauwa Mohammed Sani, PhD, teaches at the Department of English and Literary Studies, Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.

By Khadijat Abdulrasheed

A short play on Peer Pressure, Courage, Confidence, and Modesty.

CHARACTERS:

 1. Amina: Hijabi girl, shy but spiritually strong. Calm and polite.

 2. Toke: Trendy, confident girl who loves teasing others. Loud and playful.

 3. Zee: A follower. Often supports Toke but watches and thinks deeply.

 4. Teacher Fatima: A teacher who is Kind, firm, and respected.

SCENE 1: School Corridor (After Break)

[The school bell rings. Students return from break. Some are laughing, others are walking in groups. Amina walks in quietly, her hijab well-arranged. Toke and Zee stroll in together, looking fashionable.]

TOKE

(laughing loudly)

Ha! See our aunty again. Amina, the hijab ambassador! You no dey ever gree show small swag?

ZEE

Her own swag na hijab and long skirt. Babe, this is 2025 o, not 1925!

TOKE

(pretending to whisper)

Na only God go help her. Fashion don pass her by.

AMINA

At least I cover myself the way Allah wants. That’s my absolute confidence.

TOKE

Confidence ke? You dey hide beauty under a scarf. If I get your fine face, I go use am blow on IG! You go just dey hear likes everywhere.

AMINA

But if beauty is only for likes… what happens when you lose followers?

ZEE

She get point o.

TOKE

Abeg joor. I no get time for all this hijabi wisdom. Let’s go jare.

[Toke and Zee walk off. Amina walks the other way with a peaceful look.]

SCENE 2: Classroom, Next Day

[Students are chatting. Teacher Fatima walks in. The class becomes quiet.]

TEACHER FATIMA

Good morning, class.

STUDENTS

Good morning, ma.

TEACHER FATIMA

Today, I want to talk to you about something important, which is Dignity in Modesty.

(She pauses)

Modesty is not weakness. It’s not for the old. It’s not backwardness.

It is honour and it is strength. Prophet Muhammad (SAW) said Modesty is part of faith.

Even when people laugh at you… be like Maryam (AS). She was mocked, but she remained pure and firm.

We dress modestly, not because we are ashamed of our beauty but because we are grateful for it.

[Amina listens with a soft smile. Toke shifts uncomfortably. Zee watches them both.]

SCENE 3: Corridor After Class

[The students come out. Amina is by her locker. Toke hesitates, then walks up to her.]

TOKE

Uhm… Amina.

AMINA

(looks up, smiling)

Yes?

TOKE

About yesterday… I was just catching cruise, but… You really dey try sha.

AMINA

It’s not me. It is Allah who gives strength.

TOKE

(chuckles)

I wish I could get your kind courage. Me, I dey fear people’s opinion die.

AMINA

You can ask Allah for strength, too. He listens.

ZEE

Maybe courage is not about talking loudly. It may be about standing firm.

[They all walk off slowly. Peaceful music fades in.]

SCENE 4: Two Weeks Later, School Debate Competition

[The school is holding a debate. Topic: “True Confidence From Appearance or Inner Values?” Amina and Toke are in the same group. The hall is packed. Teacher Fatima is in the audience.]

TOKE

(nervously looking at Amina)

I have never joined anything like this before.

AMINA

You will do well. Just speak the truth from your heart.

[Toke steps up, clearing her throat. She speaks slowly.]

TOKE

Before, I thought confidence was how you walk, dress, and trend online.

But I met someone who never followed the crowd… yet she stands taller than all of us. She wears her scarf with pride… and doesn’t need to shout to be heard.

That kind of confidence…

Comes from knowing who you are, not who people want you to be.

[The audience claps. Amina looks down shyly. Zee claps too, smiling proudly.]

SCENE 5: Corridor, After School

[Toke, Amina, and Zee walk together. Toke now wears a scarf, not a full hijab, but modest.]

ZEE

Wonders shall never end. Our slay queen don join hijab squad.

TOKE

(laughs)

But honestly, I feel freer and more comfortable.

AMINA

That’s because obedience to Allah removes the burden of impressing people.

ZEE

And between peer pressure and modesty… I think we know who really won.

TOKE

Modesty won because it gave me peace. Not pressure.

[Teacher Fatima walks by slowly and overhears. She stops and smiles.]

TEACHER FATIMA

When a heart chooses Allah over people, that heart has already won.

(she looks at them all)

May Allah keep your steps firm. Always.

ALL THREE GIRLS

Ameen.

[They walk off together, smiling. This time, not as different girls, but as sisters.]

✨ THE END

MORAL MESSAGE:

Modesty is not a cage. It is not something that locks you away or hides your beauty in shame. It is an honour, a beautiful shield that protects your dignity, your heart and your purpose. It is a quiet strength that says, I know my worth and I choose to honour it the way my Creator wants. True confidence is not found in the approval of the crowd, not in likes, not in views, and not in trends. Crowds change, opinions shift, but Allah’s pleasure never changes. When He is pleased with you, that is the highest success. Peer pressure is loud, it laughs, it whispers, and it tries to make you feel small for not joining the crowd. But modesty doesn’t need to shout. It walks calmly through the noise, stands firm, and in the end… it lasts longer.

By Halima Abdulsalam Muhd

For decades, many Nigerian communities benefited from a rigorous weekly sanitation exercise led by duba gari or community health monitors who inspected homes and surroundings for hygiene compliance. These dedicated individuals went from house to house, checking toilets, kitchens, bedrooms, and waste disposal areas. Offenders were fined ₦50, a penalty that not only discouraged negligence but also ensured that communities maintained high sanitation standards.

Today, however, that once-vibrant practice has largely disappeared, leaving neighbourhoods grappling with mounting sanitation challenges, from blocked drainage to increased cases of cholera and malaria. Residents and experts alike are calling for the revival of this community-driven initiative.

Voices from the Community

Malama Hadiza Musa, a trader in Naibawa, recalled how effective the system used to be. “When the duba gari came every week, we had no choice but to clean up. Everywhere was tidy, even the backyards. Now, people dump refuse carelessly, and it is affecting all of us,” she lamented.

Mr Aliyu Garba, a retired civil servant, shared similar sentiments, “Back then, sanitation was part of our lives. Today, gutters are clogged, and mosquitoes breed everywhere. We need to bring back that system before things get worse.”

For Zainab Abdullahi, a mother of four, the absence of weekly inspections has created health concerns for families. Children now play around in dirty environments. If sanitation checks were still happening, parents would take cleaning more seriously.”

Community leader Malam Ibrahim Tukur believes the fines encouraged responsibility, “₦50 may look small today, but it carried weight at that time. It wasn’t about the money—it was about discipline. People feared being fined, so they kept their homes clean.”

Meanwhile, younger residents like Suleiman Adamu, a university student, argue that modern approaches should complement the old system, “We can bring it back, but alongside awareness campaigns and community waste management systems. Punishment alone may not be enough.”

Expert Perspectives

Environmental experts warn that abandoning structured sanitation monitoring has far-reaching effects.

Dr Fatima Yakubu, an environmental health specialist, emphasised the connection between sanitation and public health: “Poor sanitation directly contributes to outbreaks of cholera, typhoid, and malaria. Weekly inspections used to act as preventive measures. Reviving them could save lives and reduce health costs.”

Similarly, Prof. Emmanuel Okafor, an environmental scientist at Ahmadu Bello University, stressed the economic implications, “Communities spend more on healthcare when sanitation breaks down. By reinstating duba gari inspections, we are not just promoting cleanliness—we are reducing disease burden and increasing productivity.”

The Way Forward

Local governments, community associations, and traditional rulers are being urged to reintroduce house-to-house sanitation, perhaps updating the fines to reflect current realities while also integrating modern waste management solutions.

As Mrs Aisha Danladi, a public health advocate, put it, “We need a collective effort. The duba gari system worked before; it can work again. Our health and environment depend on it.”

Halima Abdulsalam wrote from Bayero University, Kano, via haleemahm42@gmail.com.