Opinion

By Usman Abdullahi Koli

At a time when many are engulfed with fear of impending internal rancour that is probably capable of causing disunity and despair among key players, a time of reorganisation of the political landscape at both the national and subnational levels, comes a unifying figure who brings solutions to the upheaval experienced, particularly in the recent electoral outing.

The political atmosphere, particularly in Bauchi State, is known for turbulence and vested interests. As the state faces numerous challenges that demand more urgent structural readjustment, this is pertinent, and it raises the question of who can deliver these set goals. That is why Bala Wunti matters.

Among the political players who roll up their sleeves in aspiration to win elections, one critical issue is the unity of purpose. Unity against the monster of poverty, insecurity, hunger, unemployment, and others that are clogging the wheel of our development.

There are individuals whose presence answers questions that institutions struggle with and whose conduct reassures even the most cynical that character still matters in public life. Dr Bala Maijama’a Wunti belongs to that rare category. His story is not merely one of rise, but of formation. It is a journey shaped by early trials, sharpened by discipline, and guided by a clarity of purpose that has endured across decades.

Born into circumstances that offered little advantage, early life required resilience and self-reliance. Throughout his life, it has been punctuated by uncertainty. Yet, instead of breeding bitterness, these experiences shaped restraint, empathy, and a steady internal discipline that would later guide his every choice. Where others might have faltered, he remained composed. Where others might have hardened, he stayed measured.

Profile, professional and industry roles

His pursuit of education must be seen in that light. It was not a smooth path through institutions, but a determined journey through obstacles. From his studies in Chemistry at Ahmadu Bello University to advanced training in management at Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University and beyond, each step reflected commitment, not convenience. What emerged was not simply an educated man, but a prepared mind, one that understands complexity, respects structure, and values clarity over noise. In a world that often rewards speed, he chose depth. In a system that often tolerates shortcuts, he insisted on process.

When he joined the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited in 1994, he entered one of the most demanding environments in the country. He did not arrive at prominence; he earned it. From his early role as the Production Programming Officer to his eventual position as Chief Upstream Investment Officer, his trajectory shows a rare pattern in public service: steady progress built on competence rather than visibility. He learned the system from within, understood its contradictions, and positioned himself not as a spectator but as a contributor to its reform. While others chased recognition, he built relevance. While others pursued titles, he mastered responsibility.

His contributions to the oil and gas sector are best measured through results. He was part of efforts that strengthened investment frameworks, restored operational discipline, and brought structure to systems long plagued by inconsistency. Initiatives such as Operation White did more than fix technical inefficiencies. They proved that accountability was possible, even in the most complex spaces. In a sector where decisions carry national consequences, his approach has always been cautious, forward-thinking, and committed to long-term value over short-term applause. That distinction separates those who merely manage systems from those who shape them.

Yet reducing his life to professional milestones would miss the larger picture. What distinguishes Bala Wunti is not only what he has done within institutions, but what he has done beyond them. The memory of hardship has stayed with him, not as a weight, but as a compass. It informs his giving, shapes his interactions, and explains the consistency of his interventions in others’ lives. His philanthropy is not occasional; it is part of who he is. Students have been supported, communities uplifted, and individuals in distress assisted through actions that are rarely announced but widely felt. The recent support for students across tertiary institutions is not a single act; it is part of a pattern that reflects a deep conviction: opportunity should not be determined by circumstance alone. Many give when it is convenient. He gives because it is necessary.

There is also a discipline in his personal conduct that deserves attention. He does not champion causes he does not believe in. He does not bend for advantage. In a political and professional culture where flexibility is often mistaken for wisdom, this restraint is rare and powerful. It gives his actions credibility and his decisions weight. His faith, central to his life, reinforces this clarity. It is visible not only in words, but also in choices that remain steady under pressure.

When he stepped out of public service on May 30, 2025, he did so quietly. There was no spectacle, no fanfare. The moment felt calm but confident, the kind of confidence that comes from knowing your work speaks for itself. Influence does not depend on the office, and in his case, it had already moved beyond it. What he carries into the next phase is not a title, but a reservoir of experience, credibility, and trust. These qualities are far more valuable than any position could ever be.

The emerging political conversation around Bauchi State must be seen through this lens. The state is no longer at a point where familiar patterns can be recycled without consequence. The challenges are deeper, expectations sharper, and the margin for error thinner. This is not a time for comfort; it is a time for deliberate choice. What is required is not just political skill, but administrative depth, economic understanding, and the ability to translate intention into results.

Bala Wunti presents a compelling case, not because he seeks attention, but because his life commands consideration. He understands systems at a level that allows him to engage governance beyond slogans. He has managed scale and complexity in ways that meet the demands of statecraft. He carries a social awareness rooted in lived experience rather than abstract empathy. Most importantly, he stands outside the entrenched rivalries that have defined political competition in the state. That distance is not detachment; it is clarity. It allows him to be seen not as a continuation of old conflicts, but as a bridge beyond them.

The argument for his consideration is therefore not emotional, even though his story moves the heart. It is rational, grounded, and difficult to dismiss. It rests on capacity, consistency, and a record that proves he can think, act, and deliver. In a context where trust is scarce, his credibility becomes stabilising. In a climate where division is costly, his neutrality is strategic. At a time that demands both firmness and thoughtfulness, his temperament aligns perfectly with the responsibility ahead.

This is not to suggest perfection. Leadership is not shown by ambition; it is revealed by preparation. In his case, the evidence is alive. From a childhood shaped by absence to a career defined by impact, his path is intentional, tested, refined, and sustained.

Bauchi faces a choice deeper than personalities. It is a choice between repetition and recalibration, between what is familiar and what is necessary. If the state is to move toward a future defined by stability, competence, and inclusive progress, it must recognise preparation when it sees it.

In Bala Wunti, experience, character, and capacity converge in a rare combination. He does not need to declare his worth. It is evident in the systems he has strengthened, the lives he has impacted, and the consistency he has maintained. The question, therefore, is not whether he has something to offer. The question is whether Bauchi is ready to choose what it truly needs.

If so, the answer is already in front of it.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com. 

By Khalid Imam 

Arguably, in Kano and beyond, if one is searching for one of the most consistent and dominant pioneering female Hausa Muslim broadcasters—whose eloquent voice has shaped and continues to shape generations through a myriad of captivating radio and TV programs—there is no doubt that such a singular, towering presence belongs to the revered and tireless Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi. She is an iconic, multi-talented veteran journalist who is retired but not tired. Hajiya Galadanchi, who spent six decades as a powerful influence and household name synonymous with Radio Kano, a station popularly known as Gidan Bello Dandago, is a popular figure known for her uncommon courage and unshakable faith in God.

An all-round journalist whose foray spans both print and broadcast media, the legendary Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi, popularly known as an anchor of Filin Zaɓi Son Ka, among other programs, began her career as a health worker. Out of a deep passion for the media, she metamorphosed into one of the most dedicated and accomplished radio and television personalities. A skilled radio dramatist, she began her journey into journalism by writing life-transformative articles, mostly addressing issues related to women and children, over half a dozen decades now in the pages of Gaskiya Ta Fi Kwabo. Hajiya Galadanchi ventured into public service in 1964 as a health worker at Marmara Hospital and was later posted to several other hospitals within the old Kano City, where she served with remarkable zeal and dedication.

After joining Radio Kano at the age of 35, initially not as a full-time staff member, she handled women’s programs on Thursdays and children’s programs on Fridays as her first assignments. Thereafter, she went on to anchor and contribute to several notable programs, including Ruguntsumin Salla. Through Zaɓen Sada Zumunci, she mentored many female broadcasters, including Mariya Ummakati. Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi is undoubtedly one of the pioneering Hausa Muslim female broadcasters and can rightly be described as a glass-ceiling breaker, having opened the floodgates for the rise and dominance of women in radio and TV broadcasting in Kano today, many of whom now occupy enviable positions as directors within the public and private media ecosystem in Kano and beyond.

No doubt, her persistent voice is a testimony to a living era, one well-defined by knowledge, brilliance, advocacy, and deep love for culture and the uniqueness of Kano’s traditional ways of life. She mentors the womenfolk on the complexities of managing the home: living with a husband and his relatives, navigating life with co-wives, and raising a successful family. She constantly discusses topics such as pregnancy, childcare, and parenting, while teaching women, especially the young, the best of Hausa traditional cookery, including dishes served during festive seasons and ceremonies.

Acknowledged for her honesty, courage, faith, patience, loyalty, dedication, and respect for time, she was also famously known as one of the first women to ride a bicycle and drive a car in Kano City, being among the few female pioneers to be educated in Western schools in the old Kano City. Hajiya Mariya was born at Kankarofi Ward 97 years ago, in Kano Municipal LGA.

Among the dignitaries who graced the special celebration of the life and times of Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi were the Honourable Commissioner of Information, Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya; Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu, former Vice-Chancellor of the National Open University of Nigeria; Prof. Abdulrashid Garba, Vice-Chancellor of Khalifa Isyaku Rabi’u University, Kano (KHAIRUN); and Malam Ibrahim Khalil, among other seasoned and distinguished media practitioners too numerous to mention.

During the event professionally curated by an erudite academic, seasoned broadcaster and popular columnist, Malam Bala Muhammad as a Master of the Ceremony, there was a special appeal to the Kano State Government to name the road between Diso and the junction of Hasiya Bayero—or any other notable monument in Kano—after the veteran broadcaster, Hajiya Mariya. Again, Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu also called on the organisers to establish a fellowship in her name to promote young female journalists in Kano.

Alhaji Dr Aminu Ladan Abubakar (Alan Waƙa), Sarkin Adabin Harshen Hausa; Mudassir Ƙassim; and Hajiya Fati Nijer thrilled the audience with scintillating songs. Hajiya Rabi Tanko Yakasai, a close associate of the celebrant, also spoke on Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi’s political activism through Jam’iyyar Matan Arewa, urging young females from the North to emulate her.

The Commissioner of Information, Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya, described Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi as a shining example of a female journalist of great substance and announced the Kano State Government’s donation of ₦10 million as a take-off fund for the proposed Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi Young Female Journalist Fellowship Fund.

The Kano community celebration of Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi at 97, which was attended in large numbers by media practitioners, academics, the ulama, the celebrant’s family and friends, and people from all walks of life, could best be described as a huge success. Dozens of goodwill messages were received, especially from notable female broadcasters in Kano, who expressed deep appreciation for the pioneering mentorship role Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi has tirelessly played.

Some of the major highlights among the series of fascinating activities that made the event memorably captivating were the keynote speech presented by Hajiya A’isha Sule; two separate audio and audiovisual documentaries were presented to the patient audience on the life and times of Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi; and special tributes from both senior and young female broadcasters by Hajiya Hafsah Iliyasu and Hajiya Zainab Sherif, respectively. 

There was also a stimulating panel discussion featuring Maryam Babayaro, Dr Fatima Damagun, A’isha Bello Mahmud, A’isha Sule, and A’isha Usman, moderated by Hajiya Mariya Bakori from Katsina State. To allow feedback from the massive audience, there was a Q&A session, the presentation of awards, and a plaque to the celebrant, led by Malam Sheikh Ibrahim Khalil and Malam Abubakar Darma. The event ended with an exhibition of Hajiya Mariya Galadanchi’s memorabilia, which included her photos, sound bites, broadcast archives, and merit awards.

Khalid Imam is a Kano-based writer, educator and President of Kano Literary Space. He can be reached via email: khalidimam2002@gmail.com.

By Ugochukwu Ugwuanyi

It’s a striking oxymoron that while churches in Nigeria are acquiring old warehouses and event centres, revamping them into worship centres, Church buildings in the United Kingdom are being converted to flats, offices, restaurants, and bars. Hallelujah, the tide is about to turn in resemblance to what obtains in Nigeria. Here’s a case in point: In January this year, the Port Harcourt branch of a prominent Pentecostal church reportedly acquired Atrium Event Centre in a multi-billion-naira deal. They went ahead and invested a billion naira in renovating the facility within three months.

This has quietly been happening in major Nigerian cities as churches buy up disused properties without care for the cost. They don’t just lease the sprawling spaces but purchase them outright. When told in July 2025 that “some areas marked as industrial estates in some large cities in the country have been taken over by churches,” President of the Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria, Bishop Wale Oke, responded by saying: “It is a mark of a great revival in our nation. God has opened the heavens upon us graciously and has poured the Holy Spirit upon us, poured His word upon us, and many are turning to the Lord, and the Church is growing.”

If this is the case, it means a similar revival is brewing in the United Kingdom, with citizens and denizens not realising it yet. Apparently, some persons with a burden for that clime must have been mourning for a spiritual awakening. They have now got the attention of the Ruler of the Universe, who has stirred a property tycoon and millionaire by the name of Samuel Leeds, to act in a way that will ripen the revival. Words of faith and prophecy will always require a corresponding action to come to pass. This catalytic action doesn’t necessarily have to come from the prophet or the supplicant who proclaims the faith.

In 2 Kings 7, the effrontery of the four men with leprosy in storming the camp of the Aramean soldiers was all God needed to actualise the prophecy by Elisha that spells an end to the harrowing famine in Samaria of those days. Such requisite action is now being reenacted in the United Kingdom with the resolve of Samuel Leeds to buy up church buildings that are on the verge of packing up — in order to retain them as places of Christian worship.

With thousands of churches closing across Britain in recent years, Leeds says protecting them now could help prepare for what he sees as an impending revival of Christianity in the UK. In his words, “I believe we are seeing the beginning of a revival in this country. We need to keep our churches open and ready for when that happens.” Disclosing that property agents frequently offer him churches to redevelop, the real estate mogul would rather that church buildings dedicated to Christ be preserved to serve that purpose. After making an offer for Darlaston Methodist Church in Wednesbury – worth an estimated £250,000, Leeds wrote on Facebook, “To those asking how they can donate to the cause, I don’t want any money. I want you to attend Church on Sunday and donate to your local Church.”

Despite this consciousness of the need for congregations, netizens have continued to dwell on that point. Some mockingly challenge Leeds to go beyond buying up church buildings to attracting people who would worship there afterwards. For some others, a more appropriate use of the chapels and cathedrals would be to convert them into public pools and community centres. You can imagine the duplicity of commenters who lost their voices when the Church buildings were being turned into flats and business premises, to now recommend: “Make them sanctuary places for the homeless and ex-military, then let charities feed them.” For all their tantrums, the naysayers fail to see what Leeds is seeing – a revival that would cause Britons to enthusiastically return to Church without needing any persuasion to worship the Almighty in the Sanctuary.

Apart from making places of worship available, there are other tell-tale signs that affirm this inevitability. Recent polling by YouGov indicates an increase in belief in God among young adults, with faith among 18 to 24-year-olds rising significantly in recent years [Editor’s Note: While initial reports indicated a surge in faith among young adults, YouGov has since withdrawn the specific survey data due to methodology errors.]. The data firm NielsenIQ BookData reported last week that the number of Britons buying Bibles jumped by 19 per cent last year, taking the total to its highest level since 1998. This was corroborated by Christian publisher SPCK Group, which disclosed that Bible sales reached £6.3million in Britain last year – more than doubling since 2019. There is also the Make Great Britain Christian Again Conference coming up later in the year, which organisers say will be “Two full days of worship, preaching, teaching, music and prayer to revive the nation!”

Meanwhile, there is concern that this spiritual awakening in the UK may eclipse Nigeria’s season in the sun as the world’s Pentecostalism headquarters. Since the days of the late Archbishop Benson Idahosa, Nigerian clerics have taken the Gospel of Christ to various parts of the world, complete with healings and other signs and wonders. There is no Christian cleric of international acclaim who has not featured in programmes in this country or collaborated with leading Nigerian pastors in doing the Lord’s work. It is a testament to Nigeria’s global prominence in Christendom that the Head Church and the founders of local evangelical missions are designated as the Global Headquarters and Global Lead Pastor. Some others attach “Worldwide,” “… of All Nations,” “Global or International” to their brand name, not entirely for vainglory but out of mandate. If still not convinced, be mindful that Nigeria is home to the world’s most widely distributed daily devotional, published in over 7,000 languages and circulating billions of copies across 242 countries and territories.

But just like the sun radiates the brightness of day wherever it faces, causing dusk on its flipside, revival is usually asynchronous (Acts 2, Psalm 102:13, Ecclesiastes 9:11, Acts 1:8). The faithful in Nigeria must therefore make hay while the sun shines – if you don’t mind the cliche. There remain a lot more grounds to cover. Nigerian Fathers of Faith, with massive global reach and influence, must introspect to see whether God’s reason for shining His light from Nigeria has been realised, or whether He is shifting attention elsewhere as a result of our people’s dereliction or compromise. It will be a Woe if we as a nation do not recognise or miss our time of visitation (Luke 19:44).

Nigerian Christians must not be complacent on the basis of the 1986 prophecy by Pa S. G. Elton that: “Nigeria and Nigerians will be known all over the world for corruption. Your name, Nigeria, will stink for corruption, but after a while, a new phase will come, a phase of righteousness. Many shall take hold of him, that is a Nigerian saying; we will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.” This prophecy may have run its course or remained perpetually hanging because the country hasn’t produced a Samuel Leeds who would take the corresponding action that would bring it to pass! For what it’s worth, the UK is deserving of the impending Glory as a country that, for over 1,500 years, was built on Christian values. These have shaped the British laws, morals, calendar, institutions, charities, and national character — from Magna Carta to modern human rights practices.

In the final analysis, the threat to Nigeria’s epicentre status in the Move of God should concern every Nigerian. As Bishop Oke told The Punch newspaper in the interview referenced above: “The spiritual controls everything; If our people are spiritually sound and healthy, they will impact this nation very positively. Nigeria would have been a hell but for the presence of Christians who are praying, living righteously, and living godly. And I tell people that all we need to do for Nigeria to collapse is for the saints of God to stop praying. If the Christians in this nation stop praying, the nation will collapse.” Need I say more?

VIS Ugochukwu is a Sage, Narrative Architect and Brand Strategist who can be reached @sylvesugwuanyi on X.

–A costly decision demanding accountability, public scrutiny, trust, leadership priorities, and responsibility

By Nura Jibo MRICS, MNIQS, PQS, RQS, UN-DCP

If Muhammad Badaru’s eight-year stewardship as Jigawa State’s governor could not provoke his conscience to reflect on the abandonment of the N11.5 billion Dutse International Airport, from which Jigawa State’s public money was taken and used by Governor Sule Lamido, nothing will! 

If Governor Umar Namadi’s one-year display of overt leadership anger, just to play to the gallery while inspecting projects at Dutse General Hospital and Rasheed Shekoni, is any indication of god-fearing, at this point, he should be seeking Allah’s repentance and forgiveness for neglecting the Dutse International Airport that Governor Sule Lamido spent N11.5 billion to construct.

The issue is: It is not just about campaigning and winning public office. It is not about aspiring to be a governor, senator, minister, or president while relegating public responsibility. Indeed, it is about taking a substantial amount of Jigawa State’s money to build an airport that its ordinary citizens (Talakawa) have never benefited from. It is about earning public trust, accountability, responsibility, and excellence by safeguarding public funds and ensuring that the people of Jigawa State receive value for their money.

Anything short of this, one would inevitably appear before Allah SWT and answer for all misdeeds, inactions, and karmic retribution.

It is very painful to witness a project one participated in constructing being abandoned by Governors Badaru and Namadi after an enormous sum of N11.5 billion was spent on it. And the governors who do this are sleeping with both eyes closed! They forget that a day of reckoning is coming when they must appear before their Creator and answer the most difficult questions of their lives. 

The engineers from Jigawa State’s Due Process involved in this airport project are also unhappy with the abandonment of the Dutse International Airport.

The person who hired this writer as a supervising consultant for Dutse International Airport in 2013, Mallam Rabi’u Shuaibu Kazaure, then director of building at Jigawa State’s Due Process and Project Monitoring Bureau, has passed away. He was a man of integrity, sincerity, and honesty who diligently discharged his duties. May Allah bless him with Jannah and continue to reward his efforts in the airport project. 

Therefore, the deliberate killing and systemic lack of foresight and vision by the two governors regarding the Dutse Airport is not only negligent but also significantly affects the weak, crushing the innocent’s opportunity cost and marginal propensity to invest their billions in agribusiness and other Jigawa State science and technology developments.

Indeed, airport construction and management are not for everyone! It is not merely a governor’s affair! It is not a long-standing academic practice in which a governor would recruit or “shop” lecturers from universities and give them “lucrative” positions in Jigawa State, expecting them to perform miracles, while their true expertise lies in marking students’ scripts for years. They know nothing about industry knowledge beyond their rules of engagement as academics and their involvement in academic staff unionism, which they spent decades pursuing with little success! 

Managing Jigawa State’s departments and agencies is certainly beyond a mere academic exercise. It requires industry knowledge, not academic learning. It does not require mastery of the English language, where certain DGs in Governor Namadi’s cabinet, for example, could deceive the governor with all sorts of English grammar or polemics in the name of “fetching” Jigawa State government investors from abroad.

This could be elaborated more succinctly in a subsequent discussion on the mismanagement of Jigawa State’s funds by Governor Namadi and his DGs on foreign trips under the pretext of seeking investors for Jigawa State. If time permits, photos and videos could be released to substantiate this point!

Now back to the wasteful venture of the Dutse International Airport.

Governor Sule Lamido’s efforts must be acknowledged and appreciated for the construction of the Dutse International Airport. He single-handedly started this project in February 2013 and completed it in 18 months! This is certainly commendable for a governor who is primarily an administrator and a lifelong politician rather than a technical expert.

However, even Governor Lamido’s vision and mission for the airport could be faulted for his limited understanding of how airports are managed globally, particularly when the client (owner) lacks the resources to manage it. This writer has repeatedly communicated with Governor Lamido about the importance of handing over the entire airport to a reputable airline to operate it on behalf of the Jigawa State government. This is akin to an agreement reached with Captain Edward Boyo, the CEO of Overland Airways, who scheduled a three-day flight connecting Abuja, Dutse, and Bauchi. Unfortunately, the memorandum of understanding agreed upon with Overland was not honoured by Governor Badaru and his entire cabinet. Neither was it honoured by Governor Namadi, courtesy of political disputes arising from party differences, which ultimately led to the waste of Jigawa State’s people’s money and resources in perpetuity.

Very recently, in a conversation with top political office-holders in the state, they recounted their ordeals over their inability to make the airport functional and useful.

An investigation revealed that a South African company interested in the Dutse International Airport came and went without arriving at a common standpoint. Ethiopian Airlines was also revealed to have an interest in turning it into a cargo airport, but Governor Badaru and Governor Namadi’s lack of interest has hindered this line of business.

It is, therefore, foolhardy to talk about or dream of good governance when these two governors came and found a functional airport and, provocatively, made it dysfunctional for political reasons and personal interests best known to them, which are diametrically opposed to public interests. With this kind of behaviour alone, Allah SWT will, insha’ Allah, never allow them to go scot-free, given their lack of responsibility and public trust in sustaining the airport for well over 10 years now! The airport could have at least covered its full construction cost by now! 

For instance, the Murtala Mohammed International Airport in Ikeja, Lagos, is a federal asset managed by the Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN) and the Nigerian Customs Service (NCS). Its Customs revenue alone as of 2025 was reported at N202.9 billion! The airport’s FAAN revenue in 2024 was the highest in Nigeria, accounting for an average of 67% of its total revenue of N256 billion.

Malam Aminu Kano International Airport in Kano generated N20.2 billion in revenue, accounting for 5.3% of FAAN’s total revenue in 2024!

Therefore, the Dutse International Airport could have generated at least N50 billion in 10 years (2015-2025) if it had not been left idle or used solely for Hajj ceremonial shuttling by Governor Badaru and Governor Namadi.

Though the revenue from the Ikeja and Kano airports goes to the federal government of Nigeria, by comparison, Lagos State and Kano benefit from increased economic activity due to the presence of NAHCO and SAHCO, as well as from personal income taxes paid by workers and businesses operating in the airports’ vicinity.

This is what the people of Jigawa lost due to Governor Badaru and Namadi’s neglect of the Dutse International Airport for well over 10 years! 

Indeed, on a daily basis, Ikeja airport’s customs could generate an average of N555 million in import/customs duties if its reported 2024/2025 revenue of N256 billion is anything to go by. 

Governors Badaru and Namadi’s avoidance of this airport responsibility since 2015, by portraying it as a ceremonial airport for commuting Hajj pilgrims, is not only detrimental but also exposes the political leaders’ lack of foresight and mismanagement of public funds. 

The indecision regarding the Dutse International Airport by Governor Badaru and Governor Namadi contravenes FAAN’s three measurable KPIs, which include on-time operations, revenue growth, and passenger satisfaction.

Solutions 

Globally, airports are assessed against standards and quality. Dutse International Airport was built to standard. Its runway is 3 kilometres long, and the airport’s width is 60 metres. It is, by all standards, suitable for large aircraft such as the Boeing 747 to land on its runway, with an average concrete and asphalt thickness of seven meters! This does not fall short of the global requirements for the longest runways at the world’s biggest and top 10 airports, with an average length of three to five kilometres.

The financial and economic losses at Dutse International Airport are significant due to the Jigawa state government’s lack of leadership priorities, as evidenced by the management of international airports in Rwanda, Addis Ababa, Qatar, Gatwick, and Heathrow, among others. Taking time, for example, by Governor Namadi to go to the Qatari Embassy in Abuja with a very junior high school colleague to meet with the Qatari Ambassador or inviting him to see the airport, is not the way to woo partners or encourage Qatar Airways to partner with Dutse International Airport. The ambassador’s duty is certainly diplomatic, not technical; he is not in any way going to help the Jigawa state government, technically speaking, make its airport useful. The Qatari people are law-abiding individuals known worldwide for their uprightness and accountability. They mostly engage in charitable and educational programs for deprived communities, as witnessed in Gaza, Palestine, Syria, and in Dutse and Hadejia, Nigeria.

To make Dutse International Airport useful, one must look beyond the banal and quibbling issues of political sentiments and personal interests.

The airport could have been taken in partnership with Qatar Airways if the proper partnership channels had been communicated to Qatar Airways’ commercial department in Doha. It could have been salvaged if, for example, direct contact had been established with Rwandan Airlines rather than Ethiopian Airlines. It could have doubled its construction cost in revenue if the two governors had done their homework very well through Jigawa State’s international partnerships and linkages. This department could have liaised with Gatwick or London Heathrow Airports, for example, in the United Kingdom, or even with Frankfurt Airport in Germany, to take over the management of Dutse International Airport and enter an agreement, inter alia and ab initio, at a 50-50 business fee. 

Lufthansa, for example, offers extensive partnerships and connections linking East and North Africa. There is no harm whatsoever in giving the Dutse International Airport management to Frankfurt’s Lufthansa as an up-taker, or to Madrid Barajas Airport (MAD), which is currently interested in African partnerships by shuttling its flights to connect to various African geographical locations such as Chad, Niger Republic, Rwanda, Ghana, Cameroon, Kenya, Uganda, Senegal, and Mali, to mention but a few. 

Royal Air Maroc could also have been a strong partner to the Jigawa State government and to Dutse International Airport, beyond the Overland domestic partnership that was caught up in Badaru’s and Namadi’s political acrobatics. Indeed, Dutse International Airport, within this 10-12-year period of neglect by the two governors, could have been used to provide serious dollars to the Jigawa State government from abroad and a couple of billions of naira on domestic flight arrangements and agreements, because it would have certainly offered the highest frequency of flight influx and a “buffer” zone from Europe to the west and Sahelian Africa, allowing easy accessibility to passengers and cargo into major African airports like Cape Town, Casablanca, and Addis Ababa etc.

Unfortunately, the current governor is busy shuttling between China and India to invite investors to invest in Jigawa State, with minimal progress that is often overamplified by his new media aides.

Therefore, what is wrong, useless, and should be avoided is what an academic once described as hot-air jargon, popularly known as Dogon Turanci. The Jigawa State government should take the management of its international airport seriously by inviting up-takers to handle the airport for a couple of years, with its staff and technical personnel. No Nigerian or Jigawa indigene should be employed to work at the check-in and check-out counters or security points to avoid passengers begging for money (dollars), which is typical of Nigerian-trained and employed airport staff and has caused significant damage to Nigeria’s integrity and national image. 

Nura Jibo writes for the West African Research Association (WARA) and the African Studies Centre at Boston University, United States.

Rebuttals to this piece are welcome and healthy. They can be submitted to jibonura@yahoo.com.

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

The biweekly discussion session of the Students’ Interactive Forum held on 5 April 2026, themed “Operation Epic Fury: Who Is on the Right Side of History?”, offered more than a debate on contemporary geopolitics. It functioned as an intellectual space where participants interrogated their assumptions, re-evaluated normative positions, and confronted the uneasy realities of global power politics. What emerged was not consensus but clarity: that international conflicts rarely lend themselves to moral binaries, and that national interests often override universal ethical claims.

A noteworthy methodological intervention by the moderator meaningfully shaped the discussion. Participants were encouraged not only to argue from religious, ideological, or moral standpoints—whether as Nigerian Muslims, Christians, or otherwise—but also to situate their arguments within a Nigeria-like stake in the conflict. This requirement subtly but firmly shifted the debate from abstract moralism to applied political reasoning. It compelled participants to ask not merely who is right, but what such “rightness” means for Nigeria’s interests, positioning, and future orientation in the international system.

The ensuing exchange of arguments revealed the fluidity of political judgment in the face of competing narratives. Participants occupied and abandoned positions ranging from pro–America/Israel to pro-Iran, often acknowledging moments of intellectual dissonance and reconciliation. This oscillation underscored a critical feature of political deliberation: that informed engagement often complicates certainty rather than resolves it.

Perhaps the most incisive theoretical contribution came from Rahmah—obviously an International Studies major—who observed that the international system is fundamentally anarchic—a dog-eat-dog arena in which states pursue advantage with limited regard for truth, justice, or morality. Her point resonates strongly with classical realist thought, particularly the notion that power, not principle, remains the primary currency of international relations. In this view, ethical discourse, while not entirely absent, is frequently instrumentalised to justify actions taken in pursuit of strategic self-interest.

Building on this realist insight, the suggestion was made that a deeper appreciation of the conflict requires an examination of the foundational narratives that animate each principal actor. States do not merely pursue interests in a vacuum; they do so through historically constructed identities that shape their sense of purpose and legitimacy.

The United States, for instance, has long styled itself as a Western, Protestant, Anglo-Saxon polity, imbued with a sense of exceptionalism and a perceived moral mandate to shape the global order. Israel grounds its national identity in an ancient religious text and a strong sense of tribal and historical continuity, blending theology, memory, and statehood into a singular narrative. Iran draws heavily on its Shiʿi Islamic heritage, articulating resistance, martyrdom, and moral defiance as central elements of its political identity. Saudi Arabia, in turn, locates its legitimacy primarily in its Sunni Islamic identity and custodianship of sacred Islamic sites.

These narratives are not ornamental; they are constitutive. They inform how states interpret threats, define allies, justify violence, and imagine victory. Even actors not directly involved in a given conflict—such as China, Russia, or Nigeria—operate through their own philosophical attributions, unity bases, and civilisational self-understandings. Engagement or non-engagement is rarely neutral; it is filtered through deeply embedded conceptions of history, destiny, and national purpose.

This analytical turn raises a profound question for Nigeria: What are we? Who are we? Where do we come from, and where do we want to go? Unlike many states with relatively coherent foundational narratives, Nigeria’s identity remains contested, layered, and unfinished. Is Nigeria a mere geographical expression, an administrative inheritance of colonialism, or an emerging civilisational project still in the process of self-definition?

The importance of this question cannot be overstated. A nation’s capacity to navigate international conflicts meaningfully depends not only on its economic strength or security apparatus but also on its clarity of purpose. Without a shared understanding of what Nigeria represents and aspires to become, foreign policy risks becoming reactive, incoherent, or opportunistic.

Ultimately, life—whether for nations or individuals—transcends the pursuit of economic abundance or physical security. These are enabling conditions, not ends in themselves. The more enduring question concerns what is done with stability and prosperity once attained: the values enacted, the institutions built, and the meaning ascribed to power. In this sense, the discussion on Operation Epic Fury served as a mirror, reflecting not only global tensions but also Nigeria’s unfinished conversation with itself.

By Ismail Bello Darazo 

Nigeria is a country known for its diverse ethnic groups, rich cultures, and traditions. There is also a strong history of peaceful coexistence among these groups. This harmony was more evident when traditional leaders were in control of societal affairs. All these things have faded away. Why?

Everything is better than before the marginalisation of the traditional leadership system, despite the democratic rule in various aspects of the sphere, but this particular issue of insecurity, especially the one between ethnicities, is not well addressed by the system. We still have time to make things better and manage.

The truth that we don’t want to say out has to be told in the sense that we would keep our eyes off the sad event masterminded by those we share the same tribe or religion with. This is what happens, and it is what fuels the escalating insecurity in the whole country. Political leadership was largely in the hands of traditional institutions, which formed a vital part of Nigeria’s governance structure before being marginalised by the modern democratic system.

The democratic system is centred on the separation of powers among the three arms of government—the Executive, the Legislature, and the Judiciary. This has become the dominant mode of governance today. However, decision-making and policy implementation under this system have largely replaced traditional methods, which once ensured a high level of compliance because people trusted their leaders.

The marginalisation of traditional leadership by the democratic system is one factor contributing to the escalation of insecurity. Traditional institutions have deeper access to the grassroots and better knowledge of the local environment than the current system. 

It is rare to find any group of people without a leadership structure in which leaders report to higher authorities when decisions exceed their authority. This applies to groups such as herders grazing livestock and farmers producing food for trade and national food security. The relationships between these groups were previously managed by traditional leadership, which ensured harmony and stability despite differences.

However, the alienation and undermining of traditional institutions have weakened this long-standing unity. The sense of shared humanity has diminished. Despite intermarriages and shared values, conflicts of interest have damaged relationships, turning once-peaceful communities into hostile groups.

Despite these challenges, it is not too late to act. The government can revitalise the traditional ruling system by integrating it into policy-making and implementation processes. Traditional leaders should be given a sense of belonging and held accountable for their responsibilities. Thomas Fuller once said, “A stitch in time saves nine.”

The effectiveness of this structure can often change the narrative, due to its deep grassroots penetration, significantly improving the current situation. 

By taking this step, insecurity can be drastically reduced, if not completely eliminated.

Ismail Bello Darazo writes from Bauchi wrote via Ismailbello054@gmail.com.

By Shamwil Ibrahim (Justice)

The memories of those harrowing and dark days in Plateau State, particularly in Jos, remain etched into my soul. I remember too little to recall every detail, yet enough to feel the weight of terror that engulfed my childhood. Outsiders hesitated to enter, and even those of us who lived there trembled at each echo of gunfire. Plateau, once a land of promise, became a chamber of fear, its people caught between survival and despair.

I was very young during the Jos and “Yelwa Shendam” crises. I barely understood what was happening. Yet one rainy day in 2001 is etched in my memory: my mother clutching my hand and my brother’s, carrying my youngest sibling on her back, running towards “Gangare” as the gunshots pierced the stormy air. I didn’t fully understand death then, but I felt its shadow.

November 2008 brought horrors I could not escape. Smoke choked the sky, thick and black from burning tyres, cars, shops, and homes. The familiar morning sounds, the rooster’s crow, the call to prayer, were drowned out by the relentless rattling of bullets. I saw men lying lifeless in the streets, burnt and broken. Women clutched their children as the world around them descended into chaos. Infants cried and died; pregnant women were not spared. The streets of Jos were no longer streets; they were rivers of despair. That was the day I realised that life could shatter in an instant, leaving nothing but grief and fear.

The nightmare returned in January 2010. The cry “An Fara! An Fara! It begins!” echoed across the city, and everyone ran for their lives. Markets emptied; cars stopped mid-journey; the city was silenced by death. By March, villages like “Dogo Na Hauwa” felt the same agony. Men, women, and children were slaughtered indiscriminately. Families fled, unsure if they would ever return. Our own family considered escaping to Kano or our ancestral states, seeking refuge from the unending bloodshed. Our government, both state and federal, failed us when we needed them most, leaving an entire generation to grow up amidst fear, hatred, and division.

And yet, amid this darkness, a truth becomes clear: religion itself is not to blame. Both Islam and Christianity teach love, compassion, and coexistence. Islam emphasises peace and justice; Christianity is built on love and mercy. How, then, can these teachings be turned into instruments of hatred?

Most conflicts are not truly religious. They are manipulated and twisted by politicians and traditional leaders seeking power, wealth, and control. Land disputes, political rivalry, and ethnic tensions are cloaked in the garb of faith. To blame religion alone is to ignore the real forces at work, and to fail the innocent who suffer because of it.

We cannot abandon faith. We must embrace its true teachings: peace, love, unity. We must teach our children to rise above hatred, to recognise manipulation, and to work together regardless of ethnicity, religion, or background. Africa does not need less religion; it needs more honesty, more understanding, more courage to unite despite the forces that seek to divide us.

Plateau State can heal. Jos can thrive again. Nigeria can rise. But only if we choose love over fear, unity over division, and humanity over hatred.

Finally, I urge youths, children, elders and leaders of all religions and ethnicities to continue supporting peaceful coexistence and harmonious interaction in Plateau State. 

God bless Jos.

God bless Plateau State.

God bless Nigeria and all her people.

Shamwil Ibrahim (Justice) wrote via ibrahimshamawilu@gmail.com.

By Rabi Ummi Umar

On the cool evening of Thursday, April 2nd, 2026, I returned home after an exhausting day of accomplishing my mission in Edo State, popularly known as the “Heartbeat of the Nation” for its rich cultural heritage. 

As I took a moment to unwind and pack my bags for my return journey to the Federal Capital Territory, Abuja, a thought struck me, echoing a conversation from earlier that would not easily be shaken off.

It circled back to a personal reflection titled “When We Focus on What Truly Matters.” After that heartfelt conversation with a friend, one can’t help but wonder whether we’ve truly been living out the “sermon,” especially in our own lives. 

Yet, those moments of self-doubt reveal something profound: the beauty of life lies in its openness. As long as we remain receptive, each day presents a renewed chance for self-examination and an invitation to learn and grow.

This friend, who is deeply involved in politics, spoke passionately about his thing. While I don’t typically report on government affairs, my discipline as a communicator gives me more than enough to follow along. 

Nonetheless, that specific dialogue shifted my perspective entirely. It made me realise how many others might change their minds if they were privy to the same insights. That realisation is exactly why putting those to paper became an inspiration.

The weeks in Edo allowed me to embrace a spirit of exploration, stepping outside my comfort zone to truly thrive even in spaces I never thought possible or even imagined visiting. It was the unpredictable beauty of life, perhaps why travelling is said to be a form of gaining from the vast body of knowledge.

During Ramadan, there was an event for the “City Boy Movement.” Initially, I assumed it was strictly “for the boys,” and, to be honest, the concept caught my fancy, but I kept an open mind. 

Surprisingly, it was organic and inclusive, spanning 36 states and involving men, women, the elderly, and, interestingly, the physically challenged. While “rice sharing” politics was never something to admire, I walked away that day with a much deeper understanding of the grassroots and its place in politics.

A few weeks later, a conference organised by the Senior Special Assistant (SSA) to the Governor on Student Welfare and Development, a dear friend, took place. Some attendees like myself were there simply “to see,” but the event was blown away. As someone who values authenticity and integrity over political optics, I found the turnout genuinely impressive. 

Despite being born and raised in Edo and being the daughter of a former SSA to the State Government (2023), I had never witnessed an event of this calibre in the state before. It stood out as a beacon of what is possible if everyone played their part, if and when youths are involved in the scheme of things. 

These encounters brought a realisation that while the state, like many in Nigeria, still faces significant lapses, the progress is undeniable. From new flyovers and school construction to massive infrastructural shifts, the developments in education and youth empowerment are particularly striking. 

This experience made me wonder, if so much is happening here beneath the surface, how many “small wins” are we overlooking in other states? Nigeria, as a whole, is currently weathering a storm that cannot be ignored. 

We are battling banditry, kidnapping, insecurity, and a staggering cost of living. To many, it feels as though things are only getting worse. Yet if you look more closely, there is incremental progress.

Take the education sector, for example. The era of constant Academic Staff Union of Nigeria (ASUU) strikes has finally lost its steam compared to years past. The Nigerian Education Loan Fund (NELFUND) is also there, providing loans and stipends to students; it is systematically reducing the number of students who would otherwise miss tertiary education across the country.

Of course, the heartbreak of insecurity remains. It is illogical and devastating when groups attack villages without demands, leaving only grief behind. In these moments of unrest, it is easy to point fingers solely at President Tinubu. But some of our issues start much closer to home, with us, the citizens.

I remember a friend whose father was assassinated at his doorstep; despite the proximity, every neighbour claimed they “saw nothing.” Another friend was robbed during our university days; when she screamed for help, neighbours simply locked their doors tighter. 

The bitter reality is that we rarely look out for one another. How can we expect a transformation at the top when we refuse to show humanity to those beside us?

We have become a nation of finger-pointers. Many have traded accountability for ignorance, blaming leadership for even the smallest personal failings. Too many youths today avoid research and critical thinking, choosing instead to sit back and complain, a habit that only digs our collective hole deeper.

Yes, there is a mountain of work left to do. But we must acknowledge the work already being done. Our government is trying. From my vantage point, the President is a solution-oriented leader doing his best under immense pressure.

Consider this: when inflation hits, marketers and drivers are the first to hike prices. We understand why. But when the economy stabilises, and costs drop, those prices stay sky-high under the guise of “old stock.” Is that the President’s fault, or are we our own worst enemies?

As Nigerians, we need to have these uncomfortable conversations. The popular saying “change begins with me” is not just a poetic catchphrase; it is a practical necessity. We must be the change we seek if we ever hope to experience the Nigeria we want.

As I head back to Abuja, I am carrying the lessons from Edo with me. We are making progress, but there is still a lot more to do. We all just need to pitch in to get to the utopia we deserve.

Rabi Ummi Umar is a corps member in Abuja. She can be reached via rabiumar058@gmail.com.

For the first time in a while, I have come across a Kannywood series trailer so compelling that it instantly made me crave its release. Such is the effect of the newly released trailer for the upcoming series Kaddara, unveiled yesterday.

It is worth recalling that the series was announced a few months ago by Abnur Entertainment. It has since generated considerable buzz due to the reputation of the producers and its stellar cast, including the veteran Nafisa Abdullahi, who is making a comeback after a prolonged hiatus from the Kannywood film industry.

The compelling has further amplified the anticipation. The editing is deliberate, showing only fragments of conflict without revealing the full shape of the narrative. In other words, the trailer teases just enough to excite without giving away the complexity of the plot.

This restraint is commendable, as it avoids the common pitfall of overexposure that plagues many Kannywood teasers.

Equally significant is the assembly of the cast. Alongside Nafisa Abdullahi are Ibrahim Maishunku and Zahradden Sani, whose reduced visibility in recent years has made their presence here particularly noteworthy. They are complemented by the constant faces of Ali Nuhu, Adam Zango, and Falalu Dorayi, among others. Naturally, this is a cast designed to deliver.

However, trailers are just promises, not guarantees. Kannywood has, on several occasions, produced compelling previews that ultimately led to uneven final products. The real test for Kaddara will therefore lie in its narrative discipline.

Kaddara is scheduled for release on Sunday, April 12, 2026. We wait to see whether it can sustain tension, avoid melodramatic excess, and translate its visual appeal into a coherent and engaging story.

Habibu Maaruf Abdu 

habibumaaruf11@gmail.com

By Usman Muhammad Salihu

I watched in horror as news spread of yet another attack on travellers in Plateau State. Young men from Jos, simply trying to earn a living, were killed on their way to Pankshin in a reprisal following earlier killings in Dorowa Babuje. Families are mourning. Communities are tense. Anger is rising.

This is not the first time. Years ago, youths travelling for a wedding near Barkin Ladi were ambushed and killed. Retaliatory attacks followed, claiming even more lives, many of them innocent passersby. That period left deep scars on families and entire communities. It taught a painful lesson: revenge rarely reaches the original perpetrators; it only multiplies suffering.

Recently, another tragedy unfolded along Nding Road. Young, hopeful traders were attacked. Even before the dust settled, calls for retaliation began echoing across the streets and social media. Roads were blocked. Vehicles were targeted. Innocent travellers were exposed to danger. We are dangerously close to repeating a cycle we already know too well.

Over the years, many travellers have been attacked along Plateau’s highways—routes that should symbolise commerce, connection, and coexistence. In too many cases, investigations fade quietly, and justice remains unseen. When there are no visible consequences, anger festers. When justice appears absent, reprisal begins to look like an option. That is how cycles of violence sustain themselves. Jungle justice thrives where trust in formal institutions weakens and where communities feel unheard, unprotected, or unfairly treated.

The perception, rightly or wrongly, that perpetrators are shielded by ethnic, political, or religious affiliations fuels suspicion and collective blame. But collective punishment is neither lawful nor moral. It transforms victims into aggressors and bystanders into casualties. It erodes the moral authority of communities that claim to seek justice and undermines the rule of law that binds a plural society together.

Social media has further complicated the crisis. Unverified reports, inflammatory language, and emotional commentary spread faster than facts. Within minutes, outrage can mobilise crowds before security agencies even understand what happened. In such an atmosphere, rumour becomes fuel and anger becomes action. What begins as grief quickly mutates into organised retaliation, with highways turning into battlegrounds and innocent travellers paying the price for crimes they did not commit.

Plateau has buried too many sons whose only crime was being on the road at the wrong time. Too many promising lives have been cut short by anger that could have been contained. Traders, students, farmers, and artisans now travel with anxiety, unsure whether they will return home safely. A state blessed with cultural diversity and economic potential should not be defined by recurring roadside violence.

Leadership at this moment must transcend emotion. Statements from influential figures—traditional rulers, political actors, youth leaders, clerics, and civil society voices—can either soothe or inflame the situation. Public calls for revenge put ordinary citizens in the crossfire, turning them into substitutes for unseen perpetrators.

Silence in the face of incitement is equally dangerous. Responsible leadership demands restraint, clarity, and an unwavering insistence on lawful redress.

Justice, not vengeance, is the only sustainable path forward. Security agencies must conduct thorough, impartial investigations into all recent attacks and ensure that those responsible are identified and prosecuted, regardless of ethnicity, religion, or social standing. Security presence must be strengthened along vulnerable highways and flashpoints, while rapid-response mechanisms should be improved to prevent escalation after incidents. Communication with the public must also be clear and consistent to rebuild trust and counter misinformation.

Government at both state and federal levels must demonstrate that accountability is neither selective nor symbolic. When arrests are made, the public should be informed. When prosecutions begin, they must be pursued diligently. When convictions occur, they should reflect the gravity of the offence. Justice must not only be done; it must be seen to be done. Beyond enforcement, preventive strategies such as community-based early warning systems, interfaith dialogue platforms, youth engagement programmes, and civic education campaigns are essential to reduce vulnerability to mobilisation for violence.

Retaliation does not restore dignity. It does not bring back the dead. It only creates new victims, new grief, and new reasons for the next cycle of violence. If anger becomes policy and revenge becomes justice, the funerals will continue. But if law, accountability, and responsible leadership prevail, the cycle can be broken.

Plateau deserves better. Travellers should not fear the roads. Traders should not fear earning a living. Communities should not live on the edge of retaliation. If we truly want this violence to end, then justice must speak louder than anger. Anything less will only prepare the ground for the next funeral.

Usman Muhammad Salihu is a PRNigeria Fellow and writes from Jos via: muhammadu5363@gmail.com.