Opinion

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

Politics often produces strange moments, but every now and then a controversy emerges that says more about a society than it first appears. The recent uproar in Kano over viral images of women displaying red underwear allegedly linked to supporters of the state government is one such moment. What began as social media comedy quickly evolved into a serious conversation about political culture, digital misinformation, public dignity and the growing danger of supporter excesses in Nigeria’s democracy.

At the centre of the controversy are competing narratives. One version claims the act was staged by enthusiastic supporters seeking to mock the red symbolism associated with Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso and the Kwankwasiyya movement. Another insists no government official procured or distributed such items, and that the women involved purchased them independently as a form of protest. A third line of argument points to manipulated or AI-generated images, especially those showing Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s photograph printed on the underwear.

Whichever version one believes, the broader lesson lies elsewhere. In the age of instant virality, perception often outruns fact. Once provocative visuals hit the internet, they begin to live independent lives. By the time clarifications arrive, opinions are already formed, jokes already shared, and reputations already bruised. That is the brutal logic of modern information warfare.

This is why the Kano episode should not be dismissed as mere comedy. It highlights how politics in Nigeria is increasingly shifting from policy contests to symbolic warfare. Rather than debates over education, healthcare, water supply, youth unemployment or urban planning, public attention is hijacked by spectacles designed to humiliate opponents and energise online loyalists. The result is a shrinking space for serious governance discourse.

Kano is especially vulnerable to this kind of politics because of its unique political history. The state is one of Nigeria’s most politically conscious arenas, where colours, slogans, movements and personalities carry deep emotional weight. The red cap is not merely fashion; it represents a political identity. Any attempt to ridicule that identity will naturally provoke backlash. Supporters may consider such mockery clever mobilisation, but politics rooted in humiliation often boomerangs.

There is also an uncomfortable gender dimension to the saga. Across Nigeria, women are too often reduced to props in political performances—assembled for rallies, tokenised for optics, or used to dramatise partisan messages. Whether voluntary or orchestrated, any political theatre that places women at the centre of ridicule or sensationalism raises ethical questions. Political communication should elevate citizens, not use them as instruments of mockery.

For the Kano State Government, the greater challenge may not be the incident itself but how it is managed. Governments today do not only govern roads and budgets; they govern narratives. Silence can sometimes be wise, but in a digital environment, prolonged silence can also create a vacuum into which falsehood rushes. A vacuum of credible information often becomes fertile ground for stereotypes.

That is why communication experts increasingly advise a strategy of rapid clarification and narrative replacement. Rather than angrily chasing every rumour, a government can calmly provide facts, support independent fact-checking, and then redirect public attention to measurable achievements. If the public conversation is trapped on underwear for days, then governance has already lost valuable oxygen.

There is wisdom in the suggestion that the state should flood the public space with verifiable stories of schools rehabilitated, hospitals improved, roads completed, youth programmes launched, and social interventions delivered. This is not propaganda when the facts are genuine. It is simply the discipline of agenda-setting: ensuring governance performance is louder than viral nonsense.

Equally important is internal message control among supporters. Many governments underestimate the damage their unofficial defenders can cause. Overzealous loyalists often believe they are helping, while in reality, they create liabilities. Mockery, coded insults and reckless satire may thrill partisan circles, but they alienate undecided citizens and embarrass the leaders they claim to defend.

This is not a Kano problem alone. Across Nigeria, politicians increasingly face a paradox: their strongest online supporters can also become their biggest reputational risk. In a hyperconnected society, one foolish stunt can overshadow months of policy work. That reality demands more disciplined political engagement from parties and movements nationwide.

The final lesson is simple. Leadership should be measured by competence, compassion and delivery—not by who wins the latest viral skirmish. Kano deserves national attention for industrial revival, educational progress, urban reform and social development, not for underwear controversies. If this episode prompts a rethink of political conduct, media literacy and supporter behaviour, then an embarrassing moment may yet produce a useful correction.

Democracy is serious business. When politics becomes a permanent performance, everyone eventually loses.

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

By Nasir Yakub

As time races toward May 29, 2027, when Bala Mohammed exits office, uncertainty has become the loudest voice in his political camp.

Those around him who harbour ambitions for governorship, National Assembly seats, state assembly positions, or other elective offices may be heading into avoidable doom — not because they lack aspiration, capacity or relevance — but because they remain tied to a leader who now appears politically unattached, operating like a freelance politician with no clear party destination.

The questions are no longer minor. They are urgent.

Will they remain in an “alive but dead” Peoples Democratic Party, a platform steadily losing strength, structure and national momentum?

Will they gamble on the emerging African Democratic Congress and hope it grows fast enough into a serious electoral vehicle before the race fully begins?

Or will they attempt the near-impossible route into the ruling All Progressives Congress, where tickets are neither cheap, automatic, nor freely handed to late arrivals?

These are not ordinary questions. They are questions of political survival.

As for Bala himself, the road ahead appears just as uncertain.

Does he remain in PDP and risk sinking with a weakened structure?

Does he seek refuge in APC, where political realignment may offer renewed relevance, stronger federal connections, and breathing space against looming anti-corruption scrutiny?

Or does he move into ADC, positioning himself as a heavyweight opposition figure ready for a fresh national bargaining table?

Every option carries gain. Every option carries danger. But delay now carries the highest danger of all.

Politics rewards movement, not hesitation.

While some are still waiting for signals, others are already building structures. While some remain loyal in silence, rivals are already negotiating alliances. While some hope for last-minute direction, others are quietly securing delegates, mobilising resources, and planting their flags ward by ward.

That is how elections are won long before voting day.

Those waiting endlessly around Bala should understand one hard truth: loyalty without direction can become political self-sabotage.

Aspirants need time. Structures need nurturing. Supporters need certainty. Defections need timing. Campaigns need preparation. None of these things flourish in confusion.

The tragedy ahead may not be that Bala loses influence. The real tragedy may be that many around him lose opportunities simply because they waited too long for one man to decide.

Time waits for no one.

And the earlier Bala chooses a road, the better for those whose futures still hang on his next move.

Because when the final whistle sounds, excuses will not be on the ballot.

Nasir Yakub writes from Bauchi State Nigeria and can be reached via nasiryakub990@gmail.com.

By Dr Eric Chinedu Omazu

On Saturday, 25 April, 2026, Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu bowed out of the service of Bayero University, Kano, upon attaining the mandatory retirement age of 70. The symbolism of that date should not be lost on anyone. The retirement date fell on a Saturday. The attained age was seventy. 

In mystical numerology every ten is reduced to one, each decade stands as a year and seventy years are but seven years, and seven years are but seven days. The Holy Bible records that God, the creator of the universe, rested on the seventh day, on a Saturday. And so did Professor Adamu. This is no coincidence. It was neither planned nor wished for. The stars merely realigned for a man whose whole life is a manifestation of a divine spark. He lived by his name, servant of Allah. And Allah honoured him with a rest on His day of rest.

Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu is a professor’s professor. His entire life is a classroom. In a world where preachers mount the rostrum to deliver sermons they themselves cannot live by, Professor Adamu lives by the highest standards he has set for himself. He excuses others when they try and fail to rise to those standards. The world, as he understands it, is a field of experiments and mistakes. His only rule is that failure should not be driven by impunity. Impunity is an affront to justice. 

Anything said about a great man is an understatement. In Professor Adamu’s case, what my mind knows and my heart feels cannot be fully conveyed by existing words in the languages I speak. This leaves me with only approximate estimates. In that light, Prof. Adamu is my Boss, father, mentor, teacher, friend, guiding light, and so much more that my approximations still cannot capture. The foregrounding of all these modes of being is his role as a teacher. He taught me how to live. No, not just how to live, but how to live like a human. With love, compassion, empathy, understanding, wisdom, respect and contentment. These, too, are understatements.

I first met Professor Adamu ten years ago when he was appointed the Vice-Chancellor of the National Open University of Nigeria. In that role, he demystified public office. I was a close witness to all that he achieved. 

So, mine is more of a testimony to the lived experiences I witnessed. For example, I witnessed an effortless resolution of one of the knotty problems in political philosophy: reconciling idealist and realist recommendations in public space. The idealist recommendation: simply follow the just. The realist recommendation: follow the powerful. The evil of the two systems is that the just without power is impotent, and power without justice is tyrannical. Now the conundrum: How do we make the just powerful or the powerful just? 

Put in another way, where can we find a man in whom justice and power mix? I swear by the heavens that I witnessed the resolution of this conundrum in the person of Abdalla Uba Adamu during his tenure as NOUN VC. If I were to generate a postmortem motto for his tenure in NOUN, it would be: Power in service of justice. This is based solely on what I witnessed. 

As a leader, Professor Adamu was guided by a mantra: only the known best action is worth taking. He dispensed justice, promoted scholarship, demonstrated kindness, protected the weak, maintained equity, and entrenched standards. He was so down-to-earth that clerks, gardeners, and security staff regarded him as one of their own. He was the only Vice-Chancellor they could stop on the road and whisper their words in his ears.

Beyond his human touch in leadership, Professor Adamu transformed NOUN in ways no one imagined. The infrastructure he conceived and built remains the cynosure of all eyes in NOUN. The reforms he initiated are the backbone of NOUN’s operation to date. 

The biggest of them all, he did all these and left NOUN with his integrity intact. Zero scandal. Zero allegation of corruption. Now he retires in peace of mind and happiness.

Congratulations, Sir, on your retirement. And happy 70th birthday anniversary.

Dr Eric Chinedu Omazu is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Philosophy, NOUN. He served as Special Assistant to the Vice-Chancellor during Professor Adamu’s tenure as VC, NOUN.

Jamilu Uba Adamu 

A man of strong character and unwavering principle, Ibrahim Galadima, MFR, traversed every level of football and sports administration in Nigeria. He served as Chairman of the Nigeria Football Association (NFA) for four transformative years.

His journey began as Chairman of the Kano State Football Association from 1977 to 1979, a period marked by the rapid development of football across the state.  

An accomplished community leader and administrator, Galadima served as Executive Chairman of the old Kano State Sports Council from 1981 to 1983. 

Honourable and diligent beyond compare, he was elected 1st Vice President of the Nigeria Olympic Committee in 1985, serving until 1987 before returning as Chairman of the Kano State Sports Council. He excelled once more, leading the Kano State Government to appoint him Commissioner for Social Welfare, Youth and Sports in 1989. By 1990, he became Commissioner for Works, Housing and Transport, with sports placed under the Governor’s Office.

In 1999, he chaired the Kano Sub-seat of the Nigeria team at the 1999 FIFA World Youth Championship. Under his leadership, Kano recorded the highest match attendances of the tournament.  

Three years later, with an unblemished reputation for honesty and accountability, he was elected Chairman of the Nigeria Football Association. During his tenure, the NFA proposed its working Statutes to FIFA. FIFA ratified them, and the 2006 Executive Committee elections were conducted under those Statutes, which still guide the Federation today.  

Ibrahim Galadima, MFR, also served as Member, Presidential Committee on Vision 2010 (Sports); Member, National Commission on Problems of Sports Development in Nigeria (2001); Vice Patron, Nigeria Olympic Committee; Member, Board of Trustees, Nigeria Sports Hall of Fame; Vice Chairman, Presidential Advisory Committee on Vision 20:2020; and Member, CAF Standing Committee on Legal Affairs and Players’ Status.  

In 2019, he chaired a special committee set up by the Kano State Government to guide Kano Pillars FC in their maiden CAF Champions League campaign. The debutants stunned Africa by eliminating Al-Ahly of Egypt, Africa’s Club of the Century, to reach the semi-finals.  

When the former Governor Abdullahi Umar Ganduje administration created the Kano State Sports Commission in 2016, he was appointed its pioneer Executive Chairman.

He was elevated to the position of Patron of the Nigeria Olympic Committee and served as Chairman of the Governing Council of the National Institute of Sports from 2018 to 2022.  

His most recent national assignments included serving as Chairman of the 10-Year Presidential Football Master Plan Committee and as Acting Chairman of Kano Pillars FC.  

The memory of the late Ibrahim Galadima will endure in the hearts of all who encountered him, especially for those of us who regarded him not only as a father figure but as a true role model. I remain deeply grateful for the encouragement he gave me when I approached him to write the introduction to my book, Takaitaccen Tarihin Asalin Wasan Kwallon Kafa a Kano.  

A stickler for rules, regulations, and transparency. His legacy of integrity, service, and excellence in Nigerian sports will never be forgotten. Allah ubangiji ya gafarta masa, amin.

Adamu wrote from Kano via jameelubaadamu@yahoo.com.

By Oladoja M.O

For some time now, the conversation has been quietly shifting from elections to succession. Not a clear constitutional succession. We are talking about political succession as design. The deliberate grooming of a successor within an existing power architecture so that leadership rotates but direction and influence remain within a defined circle.

In Lagos, many say it has worked since 1999. In Rivers, we saw what happens when the choreography fractures. Now, as 2031 sits faintly on the horizon, there are whispers again of names being mentioned, alignments being speculated, shadows being interpreted.

Let us remove names. Let us remove rumours. Let us interrogate structure.

The serious question is this: in a democracy built on four-year mandates and an eight-year ceiling, is protégé succession a stabilising mechanism for development, or is it a refined method of elite entrenchment?

To answer that, we must first admit something uncomfortable: Nigeria’s institutions are not yet strong enough to guarantee policy continuity through institutional design alone. Parties are weakly ideological. Bureaucratic insulation is thin. Policy reversals are common. In that environment, continuity through personal alignment can look attractive. It reduces disruption. It keeps long-term projects alive. It reassures investors. It avoids destructive resets every four or eight years.

This is the strongest argument in favour of succession politics and it is not foolish.

Lagos provides the most cited example. Over two decades, fiscal reforms were not dismantled. Internally generated revenue grew consistently. Infrastructure planning maintained coherence across administrations. Successors did not come in to burn down the previous house simply to prove independence. That continuity mattered. It produced an administrative rhythm.

But here is where analytical discipline must intervene.

Was Lagos successful because of succession politics or because it possessed economic density, commercial capital concentration, and revenue capacity that most Nigerian states do not? If succession were the decisive factor, then every state practising elite continuity would display similar outcomes. That is not what we observe.

Kogi has seen continuity patterns without transformative development. Cross River experimented with political coherence without fiscal stability. Rivers demonstrated how quickly elite alignment can dissolve into institutional paralysis when patron–successor relationships rupture. This tells us something critical: succession is not a development formula. It may coexist with development under certain structural conditions, but it does not produce development on its own.

Now let us go deeper.

Democracy is not defined merely by the holding of elections. It is defined by uncertainty. Adam Przeworski’s core insight remains powerful: democracy is a system where incumbents can lose. The possibility of loss disciplines power. When succession becomes predictable within a narrow elite network, that uncertainty diminishes. Elections may still occur, but the competitive field tightens.

Elite theory reinforces this concern. Political systems remain dynamic when elite circulation is open. When elite reproduction becomes concentrated within a single patronage chain, innovation slows, and access narrows. It does not immediately collapse democracy, but it gradually converts it into a managed rotation.

And this is where I lean.

Succession politics in Nigeria is a second-best adaptation to institutional weakness. It compensates for fragile parties and inconsistent policy frameworks. It can produce short- to medium-term stability in exceptional contexts. But it does not deepen democracy. It does not institutionalise continuity. It personalises it.

If continuity depends on one individual’s blessing, then institutions remain dependent. And dependency is not consolidation. It is controlled stability.

Supporters argue that Nigeria’s diversity requires careful continuity, that radical alternation could destabilise fragile coalitions. That concern is real. But if the only way to preserve stability is through personalised grooming, then we are admitting that institutions are too weak to survive open competition. And if institutions never learn to survive open competition, they never mature.

Development that relies on personal choreography is fragile. It works as long as the central figure remains politically dominant. Once that dominance weakens through age, miscalculation, factional drift, or simple political fatigue, the structure can wobble because it was never fully institutionalised.

This is why I do not romanticise succession politics, even when I understand its logic.

Endorsement is not anti-democratic. Every leader is entitled to support a preferred successor. That is politics. The danger arises when endorsement becomes determinative rather than persuasive when the system makes alternative emergence structurally improbable.

Nigeria does not need constant disruption. But it needs genuine contestation. It needs parties strong enough that continuity does not depend on lineage. It needs primaries that are competitive in substance, not ritual. It needs bureaucracies that can survive alternation without policy vandalism.

Succession politics may stabilise a weak system. But it does not strengthen it.

And a country of Nigeria’s scale cannot permanently depend on second-best solutions.

So, the issue is not whether someone is being groomed for 2031. The issue is whether our institutions are growing strong enough for grooming to become politically irrelevant. If they are not, then what looks like continuity today may become stagnation tomorrow.

That is where I stand.

Continuity is valuable. But continuity must be institutional not personal if it is to endure beyond the shadow of any one man.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By Saifullahi Attahir

History has repeatedly shown us that when rulers or elites indulge in throwing ultimate parties, they are usually sealing their fate. This universal rule is applied not only to dictators but also to empires, organisations, business leaders, athletes, celebrities, and even individuals who reach a climax in their trajectories without the ever-useful self-restraint.

Examples of these parables can be found even in the holy scriptures. Qarun is a brother of Prophet Moses, whom God blessed with so much worldly endowment that people living around him watch in awe. It was reported that many of his kinsmen were openly praying to be blessed as Qarun was. To them, Qarun was a role model, a success, and someone to emulate. 

Qarun’s story was a typical grass-to-grace story we often hear. At the beginning, a humble soul, spendthrift, calculative, hungry and ambitious for success. He left no stone unturned, had no time to even count his fortune, and was always on the lookout for more until he later ‘made it’.

He later started throwing lavish parties, erecting large buildings with so many rooms that he wouldn’t occupy, and amassing fleets of beautiful horses not for war, domestic use or trade. It was reported that the keys alone to Qarun’s treasury were so many that people couldn’t even carry them!

And what of the things inside those stores, of gold, ornaments, and precious metals? Qarun was admonished by his people to express gratitude for the benevolence through giving alms to the less privileged. He famously stated that it was his handiwork, his tactics, and his spendthrift ways (in today’s world, his financial intelligence) that helped him become wealthy. Qarun sealed his fatal fate with those words; he drowned!

Founders of any kingdom or empire usually begin as brave warriors or loyal servants who earn the respect and love of their masters, then become part of the empire and, within a few centuries, become kings themselves. Throughout these transformative years, you would find them humble, hardworking, disciplined, and considerate, until the hard-worn ancestors passed away and the bounty passed to their progeny, who were neither aware of nor shared in the initial struggles, thinking they deserved it. It was those later kings who would build extravagant palaces with magnificent walls, not as protection but for the sake of beauty and elegance.

The early pharaohs of Egypt were not as haughty and arrogant as the pharaoh whom the prophet Moses fought. The last pharaoh feels so high of himself that he declared himself the sovereign being worthy of worship in the land. The magnificent pyramids built in Egypt alone could signify the level of cruelty slaves were subjected to and the grand mania behind erecting them. That was their ultimate party.

The sixteenth-century Brits (Englishmen) were so brave, energetic, curious, prodigious, and ambitious that they set out to conquer almost half of the world, from Asia to Africa to India to the Americas. They spread their influence, civilisation, and language to every nook and cranny of the world. Astonishingly, several decades of the British Empire were led by women like Queen Elizabeth I and Queen Victoria. It was during the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria that Britain reached its peak.

At the beginning of their campaigns, they were just merchants, explorers, and missionaries. They were later partners before transforming into cruel colonial rulers, subjugating human beings into serfdom and slavery. It was during the early 19th century that Queen Victoria decided to host a lavish party in India, inviting delegates from every colony: Asians, Africans, Arabs, Indians, and Caucasians. The Durbar was so magnificent that only watching the video (on YouTube) could give you a sense of the congregation. Every culture was represented, and performances were made. 

What was wasted during these festivities was enough to ruin the economy of a continent. Those extravaganzas, the subjugation of people into labour, and unnecessary wars were later to seal the fate of the British Empire. The colonists were dismantled into sovereign nations, and finally, the sun set for Britain.

Before the 1979 Islamic revolution, Iran was under a monarchy led by Shah Reza Pahlavi, who inherited the throne from his father in the 1920s. Between those years, thanks to the discovery of oil and his alliance with Western countries, the Shah transformed himself into a world-class political figure and a strong voice in the Middle East. Although a Muslim, he became so delusional that he dreamt of converting Iran into its former Persian Empire with all its anti-Islamic elegance. 

This automatically put him in constant conflict with the religious establishment of Iran, especially the Islamic clerics led by the pious, ascetic, and reserved Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.

The level of enmity was so high that neither side was willing to give way until, finally, Khomeini fled to France as an exile. Despite Khomeini’s absence, he continued to preach to the Iranians, especially the youth, university students, and the less privileged masses who became his adherents.

In the 1970s, the Shah decided to throw a grand party in Iran to commemorate not only his anniversary but also the 2000-year anniversary of the Persian Pagan Empire. He coronated himself as ‘Shah of Shahs’ (King of Kings). The party was attended by thousands, including kings, prime ministers, presidents, heads of state, mistresses, business moguls and technocrats. Later analysis shows how that singular event almost threw Iran into debt despite its oil endowment.

That sealed the fate of Shah Reza Pahlavi, for a few months later, Iranian youths staged an uprising, culminating in the Islamic Revolution that brought Ayatollah Khomeini (the very person Pahlavi had sent into exile) to power.

 Similar stories can be narrated of Adolf Hitler’s rise to power and his expansionist, megalomaniac agenda, seeing himself as the Führer and Saviour of the German Reich, until he sealed his fate by mistakenly invading Russia and Poland and at the same time fighting several forces of France and the United Kingdom. The allied forces were rescued by the rising superpower of that time, the United States of America.

General Yakubu Gowon was in power from 1966 to 1975, the longest-serving military head of state. His period witnessed a surge in oil income never seen before in Nigeria, and even the government doesn’t know what to do with the sweet oil money. The Federal Government undertakes unnecessary construction and white-elephant projects just to get rid of the irritating money. 

Workers get unnecessary pay rises (Udoji salary award) without additional productivity. The General Yakubu Gowon government decided to sponsor a FESTAC celebration event in 1975, which cost a huge sum of money, throwing Nigeria into debt despite oil income. We didn’t wisely invest and save for the rainy days.

That sealed the fate of innocent and peace-loving General Yakubu Gowon. He was overthrown in a palace coup led by young officers, introducing the no-nonsense, disciplinarian Murtala Ramat. The rest was history….So watch out when you are sealing your fate by throwing the ultimate party!

Saifullahi Attahir is the President of the National Association of Jigawa State Medical Students (NAJIMS) National Body. He wrote this piece from the Rasheed Shekoni Federal University Teaching Hospital, Dutse, via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.

By Aisha Musa Auyo, PhD 

I first learned about a tongue-tie when my third son, Anwar, was admitted to the hospital due to a high fever. I was to share a room with another patient, and I was furious. I told the nurses I would prefer to stay in the corridor rather than share a room. I hate sharing rooms, especially in a hospital.

“The amenity room is fully booked. A patient will soon leave, and you’ll be transferred there,” a nurse told me.

I kept whining and complaining. My husband kept saying I should be patient…..“it’s just for a few days.” In my mind, I was like, you’ll never understand what it means to share a hospital room, because you’ve never experienced it. It’s easier said than done.

I accepted defeat and entered the room. Anwar was crying so loudly that he drew the other patient’s attention. In my mind, I thought, you see why I avoid sharing rooms…. I dislike inconveniencing others. I didn’t think the patient would be able to sleep with that noise.

One of the women attending to the other patient asked me, “Do you know that your son has a tongue-tie?”

I said no. What’s a tongue-tie? I had never heard of it.

She told me to look at his tongue while he was crying and said I would see a tissue-like thread holding it, meaning the tongue isn’t free. When I checked, I saw it was very visible.

I asked her more about it, and she explained that it’s natural for some babies to be born with it. Usually, doctors notice it and remove it shortly after birth. But if it isn’t addressed early, it may require a minor surgery to remove it. Anwar was about six months old then.

I thanked her and asked for the way forward. She recommended a paediatrician.

Before the procedure, I read about tongue-tie from over a hundred sites, and spoke to more than ten doctors… lol. It turned out to be a minor surgical procedure that didn’t take more than a minute, since he was still a baby. It gets more complicated with age.

From my research, I also learned that Anwar’s feeding difficulty was likely caused by a tongue-tie.

Many children with tongue-tie may also experience:

– Speech difficulties, especially with sounds like “t”, “d”, “l”, “r”, “s”, and “th”

– Unclear or slightly slurred speech

– (Though not every child with tongue-tie has speech issues, it can contribute)

Other possible effects include:

– Oral hygiene challenges (difficulty clearing food, increased risk of tooth decay)

– Eating difficulties (trouble licking, swallowing, or moving food around the mouth)

– Dental or jaw development issues (such as gaps or bite alignment problems)

– Social or psychological effects, like reduced confidence due to speech or tongue movement limitations

Anwar’s procedure (frenotomy) was done seamlessly, and everything returned to normal. Alhamdulillah.

After that experience, I made it a point to pay closer attention to babies. I realised it’s quite common, yet not widely known. I’ve made it a personal responsibility to educate parents about it before it becomes complicated.

There’s also a lesson here:

1. Not everything we dislike is bad. Sometimes, what we resist is exactly what we need….or what will benefit us the most.

2. I hate sharing rooms with strangers because I don’t want to inconvenience anyone or feel like a burden. But from that experience, I learned something valuable…. and now I’m sharing it with others. So maybe it’s not so bad after all. Hausa people say, “mutane rahama ne” (people are a blessing).

3. No matter your position, knowledge, number of children, or experience, there’s always something you don’t know. And there’s always something you can learn from others—their experiences, exposure, and expertise.

Anyway, when I gave birth to Azrah, my fourth child, I was subconsciously checking for tongue-tie—and I saw one! Hausa people, again, say: “Mai nema na tare da samu”… Bature yace: “He who seeketh… findeth.”

That was after a full check-up by nurses, doctors, and even a paediatrician. I brought it to their attention, and they confirmed it. The minor surgical procedure (frenotomy) was done four days after birth.

I hated the sight of blood on her tiny mouth, but what could I do? The earlier, the better. Alhamdulillah.

If you’ve learned something from this write-up, kindly share it so others can benefit too.

If you’d like to read more stories and reflections like this, drawn from real-life experiences, you can get my book Between Hearts and Homes for deeper, relatable insights into everyday life.

Aisha Musa Auyo, PhD, is an Educational Psychologist, author, and media professional passionate about translating research into practical impact. She writes on parenting, family, and education, drawing from expertise and personal experience. Aisha is also a parenting and relationship coach and founder of Eesher Auyo’s Empire in Abuja, Nigeria.

By Lawan Bukar Maigana

In recent times, Kannywood, the Hausa film industry, has continued to evolve with productions that spark both entertainment and reflection. Kaddara stands out as one such seasonal series that is profoundly produced and emotionally engaging. Although I have only watched two episodes so far, the quality and depth are already evident.

What makes the series particularly compelling is its bold attempt to explore complex human behaviour within marriage. It presents not just a story, but a mirror through which society can examine itself. The character of Haidar, played by Adam A. Zango, introduces a troubling but important conversation.

If a woman, by fate or circumstance, finds herself married to someone like Haidar, her life may gradually become defined by suspicion. No matter how responsible, careful, or committed she is, she may still live under constant scrutiny. This raises a sincere question. Do such men still exist in our society today?

One cannot help but ask why a man would choose to marry a woman he does not trust. Marriage, by its very nature, is built on trust, understanding, and mutual respect. When suspicion becomes the foundation, the relationship is already standing on fragile ground.

Another striking element of Khaidar’s character is his decision to prevent his wife, Maimuna (played by Nafisa Abdullahi), from working. This is not just a personal preference. It directly dismisses the years of effort, sacrifice, and resources invested in her education. It reduces her potential to nothing more than a perceived threat.

His justification is rooted in fear. He claims that allowing her to work would expose her to the gaze of other men, including her employer. This line of thinking raises an important concern. Is this truly protection, or is it insecurity disguised as control?

This leads to a deeper question about the purpose of knowledge. Is education only valuable when it results in employment? Is impact measured solely by financial contribution or professional visibility? These are questions that go beyond the storyline and touch on societal values.

The truth is that knowledge is never wasted. Even outside formal employment, an educated person contributes meaningfully to family, community, and society. However, denying someone the opportunity to apply that knowledge based on unfounded fears is neither fair nor balanced.

Haidar further justifies his actions by referencing a hadith about the concept of dayyuth. According to his interpretation, a man who lacks protective jealousy over his wife risks severe spiritual consequences. This is where the conversation becomes even more critical.

The concept of protective jealousy in Islam is often misunderstood. It is meant to preserve dignity and moral boundaries, not to justify oppression or excessive control. When taken out of context, it can easily be weaponised against those it is supposed to protect.

Scholars have long clarified that a dayyuth is a person who knowingly accepts clear immorality without concern. It does not refer to a man who simply allows his wife to live, grow, and function within ethical boundaries. There is a clear difference between awareness of wrongdoing and baseless suspicion.

What Kaddara presents, whether intentionally or not, is a reflection of how religious teachings can be misapplied. It highlights a reality where some individuals use fragments of knowledge to justify actions that contradict the broader principles of justice and balance.

If Maimuna were a sister, the advice would be simple yet firm. Marriage should not strip away dignity, purpose, or peace of mind. There must be room for dialogue, understanding, and growth. Where suspicion replaces trust, there must be honest reflection and, if necessary, intervention.

In the end, Kaddara is more than a series. It is a conversation starter. It challenges viewers to question not just the characters on screen, but the norms and beliefs that exist within society. And perhaps that is its greatest strength.

By Mohammed Usman (Noble-pen)

Let’s talk beyond political party affiliation. Let’s tell ourselves the brutal truth.

Believing that all these people under the shade of one political party, ADC, and many more to move into it, are after the interest of the poor, the masses, instead of themselves, is the gravest mistake one will ever make. 

All these people have their own vested and individual interests, which spurred them to cross-carpet into the party, which seems to them promising, full of potential, and offering vistas for achieving those interests. And you know what? The poor, the masses, are the last thing they think of. Let alone the country’s future. 

Let me give you a practical, relatable elaboration on this by picking the few and the major points among them. Maybe, that way, you will understand what I am trying to say here.

1. Atiku Abubakar 

This person has been investing heavily and persistently in his ambition to become the country’s president. He never reneged since he started. He had been spending billions of naira on it. Therefore, do you sensibly think working for the poor, the masses, will be his top priority when he attains the power he has been so adamantly vying for, instead of looking for a return on his financial and material investment for years before? Don’t forget, he is a business-oriented person. And you should know what I mean. 

2. Nasir El-Rufai 

This person was once one of the cocks of the work of the current brutal government under the auspices of the APC. They entrenched it with their sweat and blood. And he never felt sorry for the poor suffering under the coarse, clueless policies of the government until the government, headed by Tinibu, betrayed him and denied him the opportunity he was dying for: a ministerial post and a place at the driving force of the government. That marked the genesis of his enmity towards the government and turned him into one of its most blunt and fierce foes. Hence, his decision to move to SDP, which refused him, then to ADC. His mission is purely to take vengeance on the government which made him an outcast rather than to save the poor masses from the bondage and shackles of poverty and insecurity, which they have been grappling with for donkey’s years.

3. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso 

Just like El-Rufai, Kwankwaso is being driven by the force of spite and vendetta over the betrayal he suffered at the hands of his once political apprentice accomplice, Abba Gida Gida. His mission is driven solely by the quest to uproot the government of Abba Gida Gida, rather than by the welfare of the people of Kano State. However, he is a politician with very, very good antecedents. No one can deny that. But he is not into ADC for the masses. No. 

4. Nasiru Gawuna 

This was once an accomplice to the current merciless APC government, who fought a political battle—over his inspiration for the Kano state gubernatorial office—with Kwankwaso and his boy, Abba Gida Gida, but lost to them. He was once their worst enemy. But today, he and the Abba’s boss kwankwaso have leagued up as sweet friends in another political party (ADC) each with different and individual vested interest: kwankwaso to dislodge the assumed betraying government of Abba Gida Gida as well as to occupy an influencial office in the presidency; while Gawuna, to use it as an opportunity to become the kano state governor which he failed to in his previous opposition party APC. 

4. Peter Obi 

This person has the worst political andecedent, being the former governor of Anambra State and has—allegedly— a strong affiliation to IPOB, being the terrorist and outlawed political group in Nigeria, which had been perennially insurgent and rebellious to successive Nigerian governments with their impossible mission of dividing the country and taking their own share, which they aimed to call BIAFRA. So Peter Obi might clearly have this scheme hidden in his mind to, when he tapped the supreme power —presidency—become instrumental for the IPOB to finally make it possible to see the last light —they have been dying and killing people for—at the end of the tunnel, and reach their daydreamed-promised land. Polarising the country is the plot of his horizon. 

Likewise, if you pay very close attention to the other people who will be cross-carpeting into the party, ADC. You will notice that they were once fundamental figures in the previous governments who failed the masses and never took concrete, robust action to save their lives and property. Let alone improving their welfare and standard of living. Tell me, when did they change to be trusted with our mandates and entrusted with our lives once again, simply because they moved into another political party? The same applied to the others who are beneficiaries of the current APC government and are now quitting it for the shining party of the day, ADC.

Let me wrap up by telling you the secret of these Nigerian politicians. 

The fact is, they are always the same set of people.  They only switch color and identity by jumping from one political party to another— using the very public funds they looted while occupying the public offices they were once either elected or appointed into — with romanticized manifestations to sway the minds of the poor masses and pave a wider way for themselves to achieving their vested and selfish interest; increasingly impoverish the already poor masses, steal their future and the future of their children and grandchildren; while enriching themselves, their children and grandchildren, making their lives and future always the brighter.

And mind you, they switch political parties based on their analysis of which political party the poor masses lean their attention and hope towards. This means that it’s always the previous, unchanging enemies the masses mistake for their beloved ones and the beacon of hope, revolution, and transformation. 

Therefore, until the poor citizens of Nigeria understand these Nigerian politicians’ Machiavellian formula and devise a way to dismantle it—instead of continuing with their primitive thinking that their problems lie with one political party and that the solutions are in another—they shall continue to live in bondage, suffering, humiliation and destitution.

Mohammed Usman (Noble-pen) is the Author Of “Butterfly’s Wings.”

By Saifullahi Attahir

The desperation to fail President Bola Ahmed Tinubu by some politicians and their consistent attempt to recruit others into believing their rhetoric will always be an anticipated issue in the realm of politics, but whenever myopic outlooks like sectarianism, blame games, and regionalism are used, that’s what irritates my conscience into responding at the expense of whatever others may label me. What I believe is to stand for what I think is right, even if I have to stand alone.

The level of those campaigns was to the extent that you can’t say anything good about the Tinubu government without being portrayed as anti-North or even a heretic. This is preposterous!

Politics should not be built on emotions, and governance should not be like inheritance, where no matter who it is, if they’re not your kinsmen, all is not well. This is not the original personality of a typical Northerner. 

I’m not a party card-carrying member but an ordinary student, so I have the liberty to express my views based on my limited understanding. I would like to address the issue of labelling every project undertaken by President Tinubu as nepotistic, especially when it is situated in the South-West. 

Let me give an example with the recent trip President Tinubu led to the United Kingdom, where he secured a deal to revamp the Tin Can and Apapa ports in Lagos. Sealing a deal to revamp Tin Can and Apapa ports should be viewed with such an open mind as a national investment. Lagos would remain the economic bloodline of this country for the time being, hence supporting its economic growth. 

Among the notable achievements of even the most pro-Arewa leaders, like the late Gen. Murtala Ramat Muhammad, during his short stint, was the decongestion of the Lagos Apapa port led by the famous brig. Benjamin Adekunle (The Scorpion).  

I’m not promoting the idea of continuing channelling of funds to develop Lagos at the expense of other regions, but it would be absurd when overnight we heard the FG seal a deal to start importing goods through Niger-Maradi or the Lake Chad basin or create artificial ports in the North linking us to the transatlantic trade (it’s possible, but not overnight like in Libya or the UAE).

The North should have focused more on ensuring that fighting illiteracy included at least a mandatory universal secondary school education with skills. The ‘right education’ would solve 60% of all this menace. 

An enlightened self would not be used as a tool to create and perpetuate insecurity in the form of banditry and suicide bombings. An ignited mind wouldn’t be fertile ground for sectarian conflicts. You can’t woo an educated person into choosing a leader whose focus is to distribute spaghetti.

We should accept the fact that the North is a landlocked region. We are surrounded by Niger, Cameroon, and Chad. We have our own priorities that, if well executed, can boost the regional economy. Comparing ourselves to Lagos wouldn’t help matters. Lagos was an island inhabited by whites centuries ago. It was the former national capital for almost thirty years and home to almost all the country’s major industries. 

As to the second part of the rhetoric, which was also the ultimate agenda, to wrest power from President Tinubu and hand it over to another ‘Arewa politician’. Governance returning to Arewa would never be our solution. This was tried in 2015 by removing Jonathan through every possible means, only to regret a similar decision less than 4 years later.

A bitter truth to swallow was that, since our return to democracy in 1999, leaders from the South-West have proved to contribute more to issues of national development. Former President Olusegun Obasanjo’s 8 years would always be remembered for bringing a near-normal political stability to the country, improved national security, an improved economy, the cancellation of national debt, improved foreign relationships, the introduction of several empowerment programmes, the introduction/subsidisation of telecommunications, and a decisive leadership unparalleled when compared to late President Buhari’s 8 years of bewilderment.

It’s not about Tinubu prioritising Lagos and intentionally killing Arewa. The seed of sustainable national development was sown long ago, when Awolowo’s Action Group was fighting for universal education and ideological politics in their region, while our NPC was busy seeking alliances to dominate the Parliament. It’s better to hold our governors more responsible instead of the federal government.

Between 2007 and 2015, the Southwest Governors (Aregbesola, Fashola, Mimiko, Adams Oshiomhole, etc.) used their opposition to create massive developmental programmes for their region, consolidate power around the leading opposition figure, Tinubu, and enhance their regional security, while we were busy trying to wrest power from Jonathan.

To the question of ‘Arewa-2027′, who should be the candidate? The inconsistent Baba Atiku, or politicians renowned for vengeance politics, or those lacking an accommodating mind for others to win national elections, or politicians without international exposure? Tinubu is not the ideal for Nigeria, but the aforementioned politicians are no match for his governance track record as governor and, 2 years into the presidency, as president.

The current insecurity menace is a testament to how one man is incapable of addressing it. Many among the top security brass are from the North: the NSA, the Federal and State Ministers of Defence. In a region with the highest illiteracy rate, things worse than this could happen. Spaghetti and religious affiliation can woo the masses to vote for a candidate.

We should focus better on finding the RIGHT MAN rather than on which part of the country he came from.

Saifullahi Attahir is the President of the National Association of Jigawa State Medical Students (NAJIMS) National Body. He wrote this piece from the Rasheed Shekoni Federal University Teaching Hospital, Dutse, via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.