Opinion

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

In 2024, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu granted duty waivers for the importation of key food items such as rice, maize, wheat, sorghum, and others. This decision was intended to tackle soaring food prices and has indeed led to a significant drop in the prices of food commodities.

Yesterday, Friday May 15th 2025, the Chairman of BUA Group, Abdul Samad Rabiu, announced that his company is intensifying efforts to further reduce the prices of rice and other essential commodities. While this gesture may appear patriotic and commendable, it raises critical questions: Is Abdul Samad a farmer? Shouldn’t such statements about food pricing and availability come from actual farmers and those directly involved in food production?

To be fair, the massive and often irrational hoarding of food items by middlemen has created artificial scarcity and price hikes, which may have prompted  the  government intervention and Abdul Samad’s statement . However, these  efforts, though well-intentioned, highlight a deeper, systemic problem that cannot be solved by importation alone. 

The government’s current approach, focused on crashing food prices through imports, is hurting local farmers and ultimately unsustainable.

While reducing food prices is essential for national food security and the wellbeing of ordinary Nigerians, the pathway to achieving this goal must be rooted in empowering local producers. Farmers are the real drivers of food affordability. Without supporting them, any temporary relief brought by food imports will ‘collapse’ the local economy under the weight of neglected domestic agriculture.

President Tinubu should prioritize policies that strengthen local agricultural capacity. This includes granting duty waivers not just for imported food, but more importantly for farm inputs, such as seeds, fertilizers, equipment, and agrochemicals. Supporting local agrochemical manufacturers and agromerchant firms will boost productivity and reduce dependence on foreign inputs.

Moreover, providing farmers with easy access to affordable loans is critical. Many smallholder farmers lack the capital to invest in modern tools or expand their operations. Through targeted financing and robust extension services, the government can unleash the full potential of Nigeria’s agricultural sector. Though many farmers and officials have abused several well-intentioned government incentives for agribusinesses. 

If current policies continue to favor food importation over local production, the consequences could be dire. The economy may suffer, and Nigeria’s food security will become dangerously dependent on foreign nations. This dependency not only undermines national sovereignty but also exposes the country to global agricultural market shocks.

Agriculture remains an important sector of Nigeria’s economy. Farmers contribute roughly 25% to the nation’s GDP. It is also the largest employer of labor, with over 25 million people, about 30.1% of the total workforce engaged in the sector. According to the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), more than 70% of Nigerians participate in agriculture in some form. 

Clearly, supporting local farming is not just about food, it is about livelihoods, national development, and economic stability.

Cheaper food prices are indeed crucial for Nigeria’s survival, but they must be achieved the right way, through robust, self-reliant, and locally-driven food production. Supporting and scaling small, medium large-scale farming across the country will naturally lead to lower prices, eliminate hoarding, increase food exports, and align with the Tinubu administration’s stated “Nigeria First” policy.

Food imports is a short-term fixes, now is the time to shift from to long-term solutions,

by putting farmers at the center of President Tinubu’s government food policies and programs 

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

By Nasiru Ibrahim

If the economy grows by 4% in Q1 2025, people expect to feel it through affordable food, reasonable wages, more job opportunities, an improvement in the standard of living, and quality education. I agreed with Dr. Usman Isyaku’s recent claim that “Economics is the new rocket science in Nigeria,” because economists are busy presenting abstract models, charts, graphs, GDP growth, and the economic policy debate is centred only on economic jargon and indicators that appear technical and confusing to the layman. The economic policy debate is supposed to be centred on what people earn, what they buy, how the cost of living rises, and what happens to inequality and poverty.

People often ask: if the economy is growing, why is our life getting harder? The answer to all this is the Nigerian economy’s economic growth and inflation paradox, which refers to the presence of economic growth and high inflation at the expense of people’s purchasing power and standard of living. Inflation erodes people’s purchasing power and repeatedly makes them poorer as prices rise.

The economic growth and inflation paradox is the reality of the Nigerian economy, considering that the economy experienced its fastest growth in about a decade in 2024, as pointed out by the World Bank’s lead economist for Nigeria, Sir Alex Sienant, yesterday in Abuja. He said the Nigerian economy grew by 4.6% year-on-year in Q4 2024. This means that in the last three months of 2024, the Nigerian economy produced 4.6% more goods and services than in the same period in 2023. However, even though the country produces more, many people don’t feel any benefit because prices are still rising, and daily life is becoming harder.

Growth figures like GDP are averages and do not address poverty, high inequality, a poor standard of living, or food affordability.

What caused this paradox?  President Tinubu’s economic reforms — removing fuel subsidies, electricity subsidies, and naira devaluation cuts —resulted in fiscal improvement. Government revenue grew by 4.5% of GDP in 2024, the fiscal deficit decreased, and external debt declined. On paper, these achievements are impressive, but they feel different to the common man on the street, as the prices of food, transport, and rent continue to rise.

The immediate cause is the lack of inclusive growth, with a few sectors like oil and banking dominating the GDP. Secondly, weak institutions refer to government agencies and public bodies that are supposed to ensure fairness, transparency, and accountability but fail to do so. When institutions are weak, they allow corruption, inefficiency, and poor management of public funds. This means money meant for roads, healthcare, education, or farming support gets wasted or stolen, and policies that should help everyone only benefit a few elites. This worsens inequality and keeps essential services underdeveloped.

Thirdly, agriculture and supply chain disruptions caused inefficiency in the sector. Insecurity and poor infrastructure, plus the issue of import waivers, contributed to cheap food imports, making it hard for local farmers to compete and causing them to incur losses.

I do not view economics as rocket science dominated by charts, models, and jargon. I see economics in everyday life—prices, wages, job opportunities, choices, affordable food for all, happiness, and a better life for all and sundry.

Economists should explain how policies affect people’s daily lives — not just in GDP numbers, but in real terms like food prices, wages, and employment opportunities. Economists need to engage with the public more directly, explaining key concepts like inflation or interest rates in simple terms. In 2022, the Nigerian government reported economic growth in the oil sector. Yet, unemployment was at a 20% high, and poverty was increasing, with more than 40% of Nigerians living below the poverty line.

Economists and policymakers often discuss GDP growth, real income, or inflation rates—terms that many Nigerians don’t fully understand. Most people are focused on practical issues like food prices, rent, and transportation costs, not abstract economic concepts.

Governments often use economic data to justify their policies, sometimes highlighting growth figures that don’t fully reflect the real situation. In Nigeria, governments usually focus on growth rates in sectors like oil and telecoms, which don’t directly impact most people’s daily lives, while ignoring issues like rising poverty and growing inequality.

What Should Be Done? 

Firstly, fuel subsidy reform must be done to protect ordinary Nigerians. The sudden removal of fuel subsidy in 2023 made life harder—transport became expensive, food prices shot up, and suffering increased. Even big economies like the U.S. still subsidise farmers, energy, and housing. But in Nigeria, our subsidy system was full of corruption and waste. Instead of removing it overnight, the government should have planned a gradual withdrawal and used the savings to support school feeding, health insurance, and public transport. State governors, like those in Lagos and Borno, should use their share of subsidy savings to support poor families. Local government chairmen can help by identifying struggling households and ensuring the help gets to them.

Secondly, we must secure our farms and support agriculture to fight food inflation. Insecurity in places like Benue, Zamfara, and Niger has chased farmers off their land. No farming means no food, and no food means higher prices. The government should send security teams to protect farmers and work with local vigilantes. State governors must invest in irrigation, storage facilities, and feeder roads, like Ebonyi’s rice project or Cross River’s cocoa plan. Local governments should help distribute seeds and fertilisers, and organise markets in villages so that food can move easily and become cheaper.

Thirdly, Nigeria must stop mismanaging foreign exchange and support local production. The constant rise and fall of the naira, unfair access to cheap dollars, and heavy import dependence have worsened things. The CBN must be open and fair in its forex policy and prioritise local manufacturers. State governments should build industrial hubs and support processing industries, as Ogun State is doing. Local governments can help small producers in things like leather, cassava, and shea butter—so we can reduce imports, create jobs, and lower prices.

Fourthly, state governors and LG chairmen must stop blaming the federal government for everything. Many things affecting people—bad roads, dirty water, expensive local markets—are within their power. Governors should form regional plans, invest in infrastructure, and support small businesses. Local governments should fix boreholes, maintain primary health centres, and organise rural markets. These small actions reduce the daily cost of living and improve lives.

Fifthly, we need proper social protection, not random handouts. Inflation is eating deep into people’s pockets. The government should use verified data (linked to NIN and BVN) to send digital cash transfers to the poor. Local governments must identify real households that need support. States should create public works programs—like road maintenance, tree planting, or waste collection—so people earn a living while helping their communities. That’s how India’s rural job scheme helped millions.

Lastly, no reform will work without fighting corruption and fixing our broken institutions. We can’t keep discussing change while money disappears, budgets are padded, and governors pocket LG funds. The government must pass audit laws, publish how money is spent, and punish corruption. State and local governments should meet transparency targets before receiving federal funds. We must also return full independence to local governments so they can serve people directly. Without these changes, even the best economic plans will fail.

By Firdausi Abubakar

On Friday, May 10th, 2025, Abuja witnessed a tragic accident involving a fire truck and a car carrying four young boys. The scene was devastating, bodies sprawled, metal crushed, and flames smouldering. But even more disturbing was the crowd that quickly gathered, not with medical kits or a sense of urgency to save the lives of the victims, but with phones raised, recording, streaming, and snapping pictures. “Live on the scene”, some captioned, while actual lives slipped away.

This isn’t just an Abuja problem. It’s a moral crisis growing across Nigeria. From Lagos to Kano, Enugu to Port Harcourt, and others, a familiar sight follows whenever an accident or violent incident occurs: dozens, sometimes hundreds of people filming rather than helping.

In March 2025, during a brutal fight between cult groups at a university in the South-West, students stood around with their phones in hand. No one intervened. No one called for help. But the footage of the fight went to TikTok, Instagram, and X within minutes.

The question is haunting: has going live become more important than saving lives?

Moreover, it’s easy to point fingers at bystanders. But Nigeria’s systemic failures have created a dangerous environment where compassion is punished and apathy is rewarded.

In most parts of the country, there’s no reliable emergency line. Calling for help is often futile, lines don’t go through, operators are untrained, or help arrives late. Even the trauma centres, where they exist, are few, underfunded, and poorly equipped. Worst of all, those who try to assist victims often find themselves entangled with law enforcement.

In Nigeria, it’s a common habit for a Good Samaritan to be detained as a suspect, harassed, or extorted by the police. This fear is compounded by a lack of trust in the justice system and has led many to do nothing. Or worse, to choose content creation over human compassion.

We now live in a time where everything is content. People rush to be the first to post, the first to trend, the first to go viral. But this obsession with clout has come at the cost of our humanity.

The Abuja fire truck accident is a painful example. Witnesses say the four young men may have survived had they been pulled from the wreckage sooner. But instead of taking action, people stood by, filming, posting and watching. Their final moments were broadcast to the world while help was delayed.

Nigeria urgently needs to fix its broken emergency response system. We need working, responsive hotlines, trained emergency responders, and functioning trauma centres. The government must also create and enforce laws that protect those who help, so citizens won’t be afraid to do the right thing.

But beyond policy, we must confront a cultural shift. We must remind ourselves and our communities that no number of likes, shares, or views is worth more than a human life. Helping someone in need shouldn’t be optional; rather, it should be instinct.

Before you press record, ask yourself: Would I rather save a life or capture a moment?

Firdausi Abubakar, is a student of Information and Media Studies, Bayero University Kano. She can be reached via fizzyabubakar@gmail.com.

By Oladoja M.O

In a country where bold promises often fade into political noise, something refreshingly different is happening. A movement that started quietly, with little fanfare, is now humming with purpose, momentum, and an energy that cannot be ignored. The 774 National Health Fellows programme (NHF) initiative, launched a few months ago by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, is not just another government announcement lost in the pages of bureaucracy but a living force, a symbol of action, and a spark rapidly becoming a flame.

At its core, the programme is a strategic investment in youth leadership for health, designed to place one young, vibrant fellow in every local government area across the federation. But what sounded like a brilliant idea on paper has quickly become bigger, bolder, and beautifully human. Under the coordination of the Sector-Wide Approach Secretariat, the NHF initiative is reshaping what grassroots health intervention looks like. 

The young professionals are not just observing the system but are being immersed in it and studying the core concepts of public health, data analytics, and leadership. As of April 30th, it was made public that they had already completed over 73 per cent of their assigned learning modules. That is such a fantastic feat, Signalling that these young Nigerians are hungry to learn, ready to lead, and prepared to deliver.

Beyond the e-learning, every fellow has been paired with an experienced health sector mentor, creating powerful bridges between knowledge and action. Available information showed that over 2,100 structured mentorship engagements have taken place, alongside more than 6,000 follow-up calls to troubleshoot, guide, and refine their experience in real time. This showcases what mentorship with muscle and real grooming looks like.

Moving forward, another exciting phase is here. The Capstone projects. Showing that these fellows are not just learning and listening. They are launching. They are mapping the real health challenges in their communities and crafting innovative, locally tailored solutions. This is outlined as far from the usual cut-and-paste interventions. Indeed, these are not just symbolic gestures. Rather, seeds of lasting change. A blueprint for the kind of youth engagement that works, and not just a flash in the pan.

Much credit must go to the Honourable Minister of Health, Professor Muhammad Ali Pate, who has done more than supervise. He has inspired. With every update, he speaks with authority and visible passion for the possibilities this programme unlocks. His hands-on leadership reminds us that good governance is not about policies alone, but people. Not about titles, but tangible results. The collaboration with local government leaders, traditional rulers, and State Commissioners for Health has ensured the programme’s success. Together, they have ensured that the fellows are not strangers in their host communities. They have been welcomed, embraced, and empowered to act. Their presence has been described as transformative, and rightly so.

As we hail progress so far, a big focus on sustainability must be the centre of thought. The NHF programme must not end as a one-time experiment. It must become institutionalised. The structure is already in place. The model is working. The results are rolling in. The political and budgetary will to scale this from pilot to permanent remains. The impact of new cohorts of fellows being trained yearly would be tremendous. The ripple effect of turning these 774 fellows into thousands over the next decade will be epic. Nigeria would not just be training health professionals. It would generate problem solvers, data warriors, and service-driven leaders. 

More importantly, the data collected by these fellows across LGAs must be treated as a goldmine. All the information must be analysed, shared, and applied to shape more innovative and targeted policies, responsive budgeting, and real-time decision-making. As time goes on and more capstone projects unfold, we will witness a subtle but decisive shift in our health governance story. 

When young people are not just beneficiaries of change, but creators of it, the shift cannot be undervalued. When they are not just consulted, but trusted. When they are not just inspired, but given the steering wheel.

Even though Nigeria’s health system still has other challenges, even though the journey is long, this initiative is proof that with the right strategy and the right people, progress will not just be a possibility in the abstract. It will become a happening event—something visible, something contagious.

Renewed Hope in Motion is not just a slogan but a movement. A youth-led revolution quietly takes shape in every LGA, one fellow at a time. It is the sound of a country remembering how to believe again. 

And best of all, it is only just getting started.

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

By Aisha Musa Auyo

Let me start with this adage: being predictable is boring. The only way to keep attracting your man is by constantly exciting him.

A woman’s unpredictability and mystery can add excitement and intrigue to a relationship, keeping things fresh and engaging. This sense of mystery fosters curiosity and a desire to continually learn more about her, which can help prevent complacency. By maintaining an air of unpredictability, a woman can inspire her partner to stay attentive and actively invested, enhancing emotional and romantic connections.

A classy woman in a relationship exudes respect, grace, and self-confidence. She values herself and her partner, communicates maturely, and maintains her dignity even in challenging situations. Her elegance comes through her kindness, understanding, and ability to express love while setting healthy boundaries. This balance makes her an inspiring and cherished partner.

There are many ways to display charm and sophistication in everyday life.

When it comes to names, choosing affectionate ones for your spouse can depend on the mood, occasion, and shared history. Some days, you can be casual and warm, like “My love,” “Sweetheart,” or “Habibi.” At other times, use respectful titles like “Sir,” “Ranka ya dade,” “Alangubro,” or “Yallabai.”

Use playful nicknames on fun and flirty days (I won’t drop examples here, yauwa). During special moments, use affirming and supportive names like “My Hero” or “My Rock.”

In terms of dressing, if you’re always wearing native wear, surprise him with bum shorts and a spaghetti top. Or try a clingy evening gown or a see-through nightie. Let him know you possess what those Ashawos flaunt, except yours is reserved for his eyes alone.

When styling clothes, try different outfits that give you a new look and poise. We love comfort, but we can still make comfort look sexy and appealing.

Before experimenting with style, know your body type. Know what flatters your figure and what doesn’t. You can’t wear a fitted gown with a big tummy or bum shorts with bow legs. If you’re Qashi da Rai, avoid bubu—it may make you look like Muciya da Zani at home. Yauwa! This isn’t body shaming—it’s being real.

On perfume: know that perfume is the silent language of emotions. A single scent can lift a mood, stir memories, and instantly transform feelings. Use perfume to your advantage at home. It’s a soft weapon of attraction.

Learn to use scents to evoke peace, desire, and comfort. Use different perfumes for the day, night, special occasions, or even just to create a relaxing atmosphere. If you stick to one scent, he might get used to it, and it may lose its effect. Find out which scents he likes and rotate them. Explore English and Arab perfumes, humra, oils, kulaccam, incense, body mist, body milk, body sprays, bath mists—you name it. And remember: your house should smell pleasant too. Don’t smell like a flower while the house smells like Daddawa! Set the tone with your space, then yourself.

Nana Aisha (RA) said:

“I used to perfume the Prophet (peace be upon him) with the best perfume I could find until I saw the shine of the perfume on his head and beard.” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 5923)

When it comes to homemaking, we must constantly evolve. If you can’t change furniture often, update your space with small touches: new decor, decluttering, rearranging, or freshening up your environment. Minimal furnishing in small spaces often gives the cleanest look. Keep the house neat and germ-free. Fumigate regularly, burn incense, and use home mists, fresheners, and mopping sprays.

On behaviour—this is tricky, because we can’t be who we are not, but we can improve. If you’re naturally moody, try being more cheerful around your man. A cheerful wife is a huge turn-on. Be the woman he rushes home to. This way, he’ll notice quickly when something is off.

Avoid nagging. Often, a gentle reminder or silence works better than complaints. Be calm when he expects arguments, and then ‘show him shege’ when he least expects it—that’s the art of being unpredictable with a touch of sophistication. But this only works if your man is mature and understanding.

If you have the freedom and mutual understanding in your relationship, playfully surprise him by pretending to be away—perhaps plan a two-day trip, but return after just one. Welcome him with a good meal, a new nightie, and a memorable evening. Or, if he’s open to it, surprise him at work or send a special lunch to brighten his day.

If you always cook continental dishes, try traditional meals sometimes. If you usually serve food plainly, try plating and garnishing. Serve kunun tsamiya instead of a smoothie, or fresh juice instead of fruit salad. Don’t be the woman who only cooks shinkafa da miya and tuwo. Learn, upgrade, and initiate.

For hairstyles, try different braids or updos—ponytails, doughnuts, Kitson GABA, all-back, Calabar styles, etc.- but choose based on your hair type. Don’t insist on a style that doesn’t suit your hair. Most importantly, keep your hair clean and fragrant.

In Oza’s other room, learn to initiate intimacy. Don’t be the boring wife who waits for her husband to make the first move. A wife initiating intimacy strengthens emotional and physical bonds, makes her husband feel desired and valued, and breaks the assumption that one partner must always lead intimacy. It deepens connection, enhances communication, and fosters a more fulfilling relationship.

Also, explore different styles to keep things exciting and mutually satisfying.

If you’re used to black henna, try red or maroon. If you always wear ‘daurin ture ka ga tsiya, switch to turbans or different gele styles.

Sometimes, soften your voice—lower your tone and speak gently when needed. I heard there’s a tone called bedroom voice, right?

If you’re usually strong and independent, try being soft and playful sometimes.

If you’re always asking for money, ease up on small requests, especially when he’s managing big expenses. Surprise him instead with a perfume, shoes, a book, attire, pyjamas, a watch, or a ring. You shouldn’t always be the one expecting gifts. That’s why we say ‘ki nemi kudi, Lantana’.

And to you, Dan Lami or Man Sagir, know that all this charm, sophistication, versatility, and surprise can’t happen if you are too strict, stingy, or overbearing. You must be friendly and generous with your words, smiles, time, emotions, and yes, your wallet. Yauwa.

Lemme stop here….

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

By Abdullahi Abubakar Lamido, PhD

It was a warm afternoon in my office at the Zakah and Waqf Foundation in Gombe, and I had cleared my schedule for what was described as a “very important meeting.” A group of nine young professionals—doctors, nurses, and medical administrators—filed in with purposeful expressions. These were respected Muslim health workers in our community, competent and resourceful in their own rights, leading their Muslim body. 

They sat down, exchanged pleasantries, and after a few minutes, one of them cleared his throat and spoke. “We were hoping you could help us reach Qatar Charity. We want to build a mosque in our hospital.”

I paused. My mind raced not with criticism but with confusion. These were not poor villagers. These were professionals, all salaried, some likely earning above average. I asked gently, “How much will the mosque cost?”

“About ten million naira.”

“And how many Muslim staff do you have?”

“Roughly 500,” they responded.

I picked up a pen and scribbled something. “That’s twenty thousand naira each,” I said. “Divided over four months, that’s 5,000 naira per month.”

There was a short silence. “You don’t need Qatar Charity,” I told them. “You need yourselves; you need Gombe Charity.”

From my limited understanding, I explained that most international charities, like Qatar Charity, raise funds from within their own people first. They identify a problem in a country, develop a proposal, return to their citizens and say: “Donate to build a mosque in Nigeria.” If they can do that for us, why can’t we do it for ourselves? I then told them to put my name as the first donor of the twenty thousand naira to kickstart the project. 

That brief meeting offered a glimpse into a deeper issue—our chronic psychological dependence on external aid, even when we can act. The problem isn’t always material poverty; often, it’s a lack of belief in our collective strength—a poverty of the mind and will.

The Turkey Phenomenon: A Lesson Misunderstood

Take, for example, the popular trend in some Northern Nigerian states where applications pour into Turkish and other organisations for Qurbani (Udhiya) distributions. Turkish charities, may Allah reward them, buy cows and distribute meat during Eid.

But here’s a crucial question: Is this a model to emulate or one to reconsider? If every year, our people look outward to receive—and never inward to learn how to organise, fund, and distribute—we risk cultivating a culture of constant reception without reciprocity.

Islam is not a religion of passivity. It teaches us to act before asking, to solve before seeking, and to build with what is already in our hands. Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) taught us that the upper hand is better than the lower one—the hand that gives is superior to the hand that receives.

The Al-Basar Example: From Vision to Visionary Impact

Now, let’s discuss a model worth following—Al-Basar International Foundation.

Al Basar International Foundation is a non-profit international NGO. Founded in 1989 by a group of concerned professionals. Al-Basar is a shining example of what happens when people come together to solve a problem themselves. Their focus? Combating preventable blindness across the Muslim world. No dependency. No grand donor campaigns. Just strategic self-mobilisation as well as waqf and collaborative mindset. 

It works in Yemen, Bangladesh, Sudan, Nigeria, Pakistan, etc. In Nigeria, for instance, a 2019 campaign funded by King Salman Humanitarian Aid and Relief Centre in collaboration with Al Basar International Foundation saw medical volunteers from Saudi Arabia meet 8,000 eye patients and perform 800 eye surgeries to remove cataract and glaucoma in Ibadan, Nigeria, as well as in Lafia in Nasarawa State. 

The foundation manages the Makkah Eye Specialist Hospital in Kano state, Nigeria, where 4,000 free eye surgeries were carried out in 2021. The hospital treats eye conditions, including diabetic retinopathy. In 2022, Al Basar International Foundation, in collaboration with the King Salman Relief Center, sponsored 400 free cataract surgeries for residents of Kano, which took place at Makkah Eye Specialist Hospital. 

Over the years, Al Basar has conducted over 2,000 outreach programs worldwide, performed over 700,000 cataract surgeries, and dispensed nearly 2 million glasses. With 28 hospitals across six countries, the foundation has recorded 26 million outpatient visits. It also invests in education by establishing colleges to train eye care professionals, impacting Africa and Asia. Their school screening program has reached over 1 million children, providing immediate interventions and ensuring a comprehensive approach to their eye health.

Now ask yourself: is Al-Basar a government-funded operation? No. Did it start with foreign aid? No. It was “from them, by them, for them.” And now it is for us, too—because they nurtured it to the point where it could grow beyond them.

We should not only admire such models. We should replicate them.

Historical Echoes: Islamic Proofs of Self-Driven Solutions

Uthman ibn Affan (RA) and the Well of Rumah

When water scarcity plagued Medina, and a private owner monopolised a well, the Prophet (SAW) called for someone to purchase it for the Muslims. Uthman (RA) stepped up, bought the well, and made it a public waqf. He didn’t write to Yemen. He didn’t petition the Romans. He simply used what Allah had given him to solve a problem for Allah’s sake.

So, What Can We Do? A Homegrown Waqf Blueprint

If we genuinely want to stop relying on donors and start building resilient communities, here are practical steps:

Think Within, Act Within: Begin every solution by asking what the community already has—not what it lacks. Do you have professionals? Land? Skills? Social networks? Then, start from there.

Group Economic Self-Waqfing: Encourage professional groups (doctors, teachers, engineers, traders, lawyers) to dedicate a portion of monthly income to a fund. Even a modest 5,000 naira monthly from 100 people can generate sustainable capital. At Zakah and Waqf Foundation, we enjoy that from some professionals, and it works. 

Community Challenge Waqf: Identify a local challenge—maternal health, education for orphans, access to clean water—and collectively endow a waqf around it. Let the yield solve that problem perpetually.

Transparent Management Structures: Set up trustworthy waqf boards to manage resources. Trust fuels contribution. Accountability sustains it.

Celebrate Independence: Create cultural pride around self-funded projects. Showcase schools, hospitals, orphanages, and mosques built without a single foreign dime.

It is Time to Change the Script

Imagine if each LGA in Nigeria had one waqf-funded primary health centre, one vocational training centre, and one scholarship fund—all funded by local contributions from professionals, retirees, and small traders.

We would not be beggars. We would be builders.

It’s time to write a new story. One not of helplessness and application letters to foreign NGOs but of resolve, unity, and strategic giving. One of From Us, By Us, For Us—in the truest, most impactful sense.

When that story is told to future generations, they will say: There was a people who stopped waiting and started building.

Amir Lamido wrote from Gombe via lamidomabudi@gmail.com.

By Ibrahim Inusa

Over the years, the Almajiri system of education has served as a traditional form of Islamic education in northern Nigeria, where young boys, often aged between 7 and 14, are sent far from home to memorise the Qur’an by their parents under the supervision of a Malam (teacher). While the system’s intent was to instil religious knowledge, encourage direct engagement in Islamic activities, and provide practical moral learning, it has largely become disconnected from its original purpose.

At present, the system has turned millions of pupils into nuisances, leaving most of them without literacy or numeracy skills. Pupils divide their day between reading and wandering the streets to beg for food and money, intended to cover their living and schooling costs. This model places the pupils in highly vulnerable situations, exposing them to all forms of exploitation and manipulation, and even rendering them a threat to national security.

The Almajiri system of education has been a cornerstone of learning for many Nigerian children. However, its implementation has raised concerns about child welfare, education, and human rights. As Nigeria strives for progress, it is essential to address the challenges within the Almajiri system. One major issue is the lack of regulation and oversight, which leaves children vulnerable to all forms of abuse.

Another significant challenge is the limited access to quality education. Traditional Almajiri schools focus solely on Islamic studies, neglecting secular subjects such as mathematics, science, and English. This restricted curriculum can hinder students’ ability to compete in the modern world. By incorporating modern subjects, Almajiri schools can offer students a more comprehensive education.

The Almajiri system also raises concerns about radicalisation. Some Almajiri schools may promote extremist ideologies, which can have far-reaching consequences. To mitigate this risk, it is essential to encourage critical thinking, tolerance, and inclusivity within Almajiri schools.

To reform the Almajiri system, a decisive approach is necessary. Government agencies, NGOs, and communities must collaborate to provide support for Almajiri students, including access to healthcare, nutrition, and protection from abuse. Almajiri schools should be encouraged to adopt a modern curriculum and teaching methods.

Furthermore, teachers and caregivers in Almajiri schools require training and support to provide a quality education. Community engagement is also important, and parents, guardians, and community leaders involved in decision-making processes are encouraged to prioritise children’s welfare and education.

The current Nigerian government can play a crucial role in reforming the Almajiri system through policy initiatives, such as the Almajiri Education Programme. However, more needs to be done to ensure effective implementation and sustainability. Long-term commitment to reform requires a sustained effort to improve the lives of Nigerian children. By working together, we can create a more inclusive, equitable, and prosperous society for all.

In conclusion, monitoring and evaluation mechanisms are essential for tracking progress, identifying challenges, and making adjustments to reform initiatives. Reforming the Almajiri system is a complex task that requires collaboration, commitment, and creativity. By working together, we can create a more just and equitable education system that benefits all Nigerian children.

Ibrahim Inusa writes from the Department of Mass Communication at Abubakar Tatari Ali Polytechnic Bauchi and can be reached via Ibrahiminusa216@gmail.com.

• Company: Mai Kwai Movies
• Director: Abubakar A.S Mai Kwai
• Producer: Abdul Dan Small
• Language: Hausa
• Cast: Ali Nuhu, Aminu Sharif (Momo), Maryam Ceeter, Baballe Hayatu, Hafsat Idris, etc.
• Year: 2018

The question of whether married women should be allowed to work remains contentious in Hausa society. Modern people support the idea, while traditionalists continue to frown upon it. As the debate continues, a Kannywood production company, Mai Kwai Movies, weighs in with their film Dr. Halima.

The story revolves around the eponymous character (played by Maryam Ceeter), a PhD holder whose husband, Yusuf (Ali Nuhu), allows her to work at a construction company. Dr. Halima takes pride in her appearance and enjoys being complimented on her looks, but her husband is a rigid alpha male who dismisses that as frivolous and never cares to praise her. Instead, she receives attention and admiration from her male colleagues, whom she openly welcomes despite being married. As a modern woman, Dr. Halima doesn’t see anything wrong with dressing fashionably and being appreciated by others.

However, jealousy consumes Halima’s husband when he realises she has become the centre of attention at her workplace. He reacts by neglecting her and sleeping separately. Despite her attempts to address the issue, he turns a deaf ear, leading to growing tension and a deterioration in their marriage. Meanwhile, Halima’s colleague, Dags (Aminu Shareef Momoh), who has long harboured feelings for her, gets an opportunity to intrude into her life. He eventually succeeds in his pursuit, taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Thanks to its powerful story, the film generally captivates despite having a limited narrative hook. It succeeds in delivering its central message: that the problem with married women working is mostly not from the work itself, but from the behaviour of the women involved. When a married woman respects herself, she repels temptation, and when she doesn’t, the opposite occurs. We see how Dr. Halima attracts indecent colleagues with her scanty dress, but repels them later when she begins to dress modestly.

The film also underlines the need for effective communication in marriage and the dangers attached to neglectful relationships. We see how cold communication leads Yusuf and Halima to neglect each other and sleep separately for over three months. This emotional distance is what plays a key role in Halima’s decision to commit adultery with her colleague, as shown in the movie.

Additionally, the film introduces a moderate Fatwa that a marriage does not necessarily have to end if a wife has committed adultery. What matters most is sincere repentance and seeking Allah’s forgiveness. Ultimately, Dr. Halima repents without revealing her transgression to her husband, and they continue to live happily ever after.

On the other hand, the film falls slightly short in its technical aspects. Both sound design and editing are poorly handled. The continuity and costume use are also noticeably flawed. For instance, in one sequence, a messenger is seen meeting Dr. Halima on the company premises. However, moments later, the same messenger appears wearing a different outfit when she enters the office.

Regarding the actors, Maryam Ceeter, with her mature presence, is perfectly cast as Dr. Halima. She brings emotional depth, portraying both the confidence and vulnerability of her character. Ali Nuhu excels as Halima’s rigid husband. He gives a realistic performance, with his love for Halima subtly evident even as he distances himself from her. Aminu Momoh fully inhabits his dubious character, as he often does, using his charm and great comic timing.

Other supporting actors, including Baballe Hayatu and Hafsat Idris, are equally well-cast and perform commendably.

Overall, Dr. Halima is a compelling family drama that does full justice to its serious subject matter. While it may not be suitable for children, it is a must-watch for adult audiences. Rating: 3.5/5

Habibu Maaruf Abdu wrote from Kano via habibumaaruf11@gmail.com.

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

They are both young boys, although one seems slightly older. From March to May 2025, they captured the attention and interests of Hausaphone social media with their radically different approaches to digital media visibility. In the process, they provided a template or script for the future of youth engagement in public culture and demonstrated the power of agency. 

Taranding in an open cesspool (Kabiru Isma’il, Kano).

The first was Kabiru Isma’il, better known as Kabeer2pac (apparently a fan of the late American rapper 2Pac Shakur).He had 1.8m followers and 15.1m likes on his TikTok account, which prominently displays his phone number (or that of his agent) for advertising purposes. His early videos clocked in millions of views. His most famous video, in which he shakes the dust off his body and jacket, has earned 51 million views. He devised two strategies to achieve this fame. 

His first videos were posted during the 2025 Ramadhan on 19 and 20th March 2025. In the videos, he was recorded immersed in a stagnant open cesspool of household wastewater (kwatami), dunking himself in it and smearing the sediments on his face. The videographer asked for his motives, and he replied he was doing so to “tarand” (trend) because he yearns for fame (ɗaukaka). He affirms he was not a lunatic. The video had 2.6 million views. He further explained that he resorted to this because his earlier attempts at trending were unsuccessful.

On 3rd April 2025, he switched from cesspool contents smearing to getting a sack of charcoal dust dumped on his head,which earned the video 14.8 million views. By then, his fame spread because the CoalDust video he posted two days later earned him 51 million views. His videos attracted Gwanki Travels and Tours International Ltd in Kaduna, who invited him and offered him a free ticket to perform the lesser Hajj, Umrah. Beaming with happiness, Kabeer2pac declared his gratitude that he had achieved the fame he had sought and had “taranded” very well. Of course, Gwanki also trended because they were riding on his coat-tail, as it were, to advertise their services.

Reactions to Kabeer2pac’s fame and fortune were varied but predictable. Most commentators were happy for him and took umbrage at any view that condemned his behaviour as unhealthy and unbecoming. Some Muslim clerics condemned him. Others were against the money spent on his Umrah, arguing that he was young and the money should be invested in either a trade or his education. His behaviour led to copycat copying. 

Quite soon after it started trending, copycats appeared in various guises, including a cesspool girl, from dousing themselves with petrol to set fire on themselves, to having cement blocks banged on their head, to immersing themselves in a stagnant pool of waste water. In one case, a young boy entered a soak away— all in their desire to “tarand” and possibly get a free Umrah ticket.

In an RFI video interview posted on 16th April 2025, Kabeer 2pac admitted that the possibility of his social media celebrity status is likely to be short-lived, as he understands that people will soon get bored with his antics and switch to something else. But for the period he was trending, he was happy with the endorsements he received and his branching out into comedies and short dancing skits in his trademark winter jacket. 

He has accurately anticipated the ephemeral nature of his antics. About two years ago, others who trended and quickly faded away were even more famous and established what I call “celebrification culture”. The first was Ale Rufa’i Bullgates, who devised his own currency, “Gangalion”. He was followed by Ale Umar Bush, whose speciality was foul-mouthing everyone around him. Each was given a social media celebrity status – private jets, fancy meals, endorsement deals by fancy local merchants. Ale Umar Bush seemed to have a Middle-Eastern “girlfriend”. People mocked their mental health and turned them into the theatre. That was probably why Kabeer2pac prefaced his first video by proclaiming that he was not mad. 

What motivates people to watch grisly events as lookie-loos, whether on screen or in physical spaces? Kabeer2pac’s audience can be called voyeuristic or spectator audiences. Odd or outlandish behaviour fascinates them because it provides novelty, entertainment, and sometimes a sense of shock or disbelief. Due to its unconventional nature, such content often triggers curiosity, amusement, or even a desire to share with others. 

Trending Young Dangote (Sadiq Usman Ahmed, Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna)

In contrast to Kabeer2pac, Sadiq was a street hawker in Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna, whom someone tagged Young Dangote. His nickname refers to the Hausa business mogul Aliko Dangote, the richest Black man in the world at the time. Anwar Textiles Ltd discovered him at a traffic stop in Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna, on 18th May 2025, when the young lad, who looks about 13 years old, was hawking car fresheners. 

Intrigued, the videographer asked how he started the business. Beaming an incredibly infectious smile (alone enough to make you buy his ware, even if you had no intention of doing so), he said he started with ₦300 with which he used to purchase cotton buds for ₦50 and sold for ₦70-₦100, before moving to products he bought for ₦350, selling at ₦500, happy with whatever profit he made. Gradually, his capital reached ₦5,000, then ₦1000, “har jari ya kai dubu hamsin cifi cif”/up to ₦50,000 neat. He said he prefers schooling to hawking, but poverty forced him into hawking. He relates this with a devastating, charming smile and enthusiasm for his current station in life, clearly with a business goal in mind. 

Touched by his resolve to improve his business, the video was posted on Anwar Textiles’ personal account and went viral. This impressed so many people (including the Pop Cola company in Kano) that they sent their widow’s mite to Anwar Textiles to improve the boy’s capital. Some asked for an account. In a very honourable way, Anwar Textiles traced the boy’s father. They recorded a video in which the father explained their happiness about the crowdsourcedfunding efforts made by Anwar Textiles. He emphasised that they were not begging for assistance as such (they were well off, but had a bad patch in life), but are grateful to those who contribute to the boy’s entrepreneurial ambitions. An account number was given. 

By 16th May 2025, Sadiq had over ₦300,000 capital and a larger basket to hold more products, which Anwar Textiles helped to purchase for him. The balance of the money was handed over to the father. He thanked Anwar Textiles for making it possible for people to know him. He displayed his new “mobile shop” and declared, “daga nan sai ƙasar waje, inshaa Allahu”/next, overseas, by God’s grace. He also stated his intention to go back to school soon. 

I find Anwar Textiles honourable. He located the boy, helped him, and supported his family. Importantly, he did not engage the boy in a gaudy marketing gimmick for his company, as done with Kabeer2pac. The boys’ marketing strategy was brilliant, as seen in a video posted a few days later in which he persuaded a motorist to buy more car fresheners than the customer actually intended to buy!

Both of these teenage boys demonstrate what personal resolve can achieve. Through social media, each person has attained something they wanted at the beginning of their lives. Kabeer2pac’s social media platform, which thrives on trends and viral content, where the unusual or unexpected can quickly gain traction through likes, shares, and comments, further amplifying its reach, worked perfectly well. He has the fame (ɗaukaka) he strives for. 

For Young Dangote, who has no social media presence (I even doubt if he has a phone, for he would probably plough the money into his business), we see what the power of crowdfunding and simple determination can do spontaneously. Comments from those who knew the family indicated that they were stable (as indeed even the father stated), but went through a bad patch. Instead of mourning their turbulent period, Sadiq dropped out of school, picked up a basket, got some money, bought car fresheners, and started hawking them at traffic stops. The rest, as they say, is a viral history. 

Social media can be a space for what Bala Muhammad (Adaidaita Sahu) at the DEEDS Book vs Screen May 2025 KHAIRUN Dialogue refers to as “digital iskanci”—or something else. Your judgment of each is, of course, personal.

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

April is traditionally a month of pranks and laughter. But in Nigeria, the joke was on no one except, perhaps, on a nation whose security architecture is under siege from terrorists, bandits, and kidnappers.

Far from fearing our security operatives, criminal elements across the country displayed shocking audacity, reminding us that the battle for Nigeria’s soul remains bloody and unresolved.

In a horrific display of lawlessness, notorious bandit leader Bello Turji celebrated Eid in Sokoto by executing kidnapped victims, recording and broadcasting the gruesome act without fear of consequences. Across parts of Katsina, Kaduna, and Zamfara, bandits not only continued their reign of terror but have begun levying taxes and operating parallel governments in areas still supposedly under state control.

Compounding public anxiety, National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu made headlines when he advised families of kidnapped victims to “stop paying ransom.” While theoretically sound, the reality is far more brutal. Without swift and credible government intervention, desperate families have no option but to finance their tragedies. Until state forces can decisively rescue captives, this vicious cycle will continue.

In just one month, attacks escalated across Plateau, Kwara, and Benue States, leaving communities in mourning. Boko Haram and ISWAP insurgents resurfaced with deadly ambushes, signalling their continued relevance in Nigeria’s security equation.

April’s bloodshed has revealed operational lapses and a deep strategic and moral crisis. The Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA) must urgently intensify efforts, especially by working discreetly with rescued victims to extract intelligence, boost surveillance systems, and dismantle criminal networks worldwide.

While commendable successes by security operatives, such as rescuing hostages and recovering illegal arms, were recorded, they were dwarfed by the scale of atrocities witnessed within just 30 days.

The Department of State Services (DSS), often criticised and even facing calls for disbandment, must seize this moment to redeem itself. Encouragingly, recent commendations from the Plateau State Government and Governor Uba Sani of Kaduna for the DSS’s contributions to curbing insecurity suggest a glimmer of institutional reliability. Their successful arrests of gunrunners and dismantling of kidnapping syndicates are steps in the right direction.

Notably, the DSS also intercepted a British Army Major in Delta State attempting to smuggle 50 AK-47 rifles and ammunition—a major bust, and a signal that the service can perform under pressure. Their ability to withstand calls for the suspect’s release further strengthens public confidence.

Going forward, DSS and ONSA must strengthen collaboration through real-time joint operations, intelligence sharing, and visible outcomes. The Nigerian Intelligence Agency (NIA) also must integrate its overseas capabilities with ONSA’s domestic strategies. Today’s criminals are sophisticated—our response must be smarter.

Beyond the battlefield, Nigeria’s fight against corruption also demands attention. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) must intensify efforts with ongoing arrests of internet fraudsters and by pursuing justice in high-profile cases involving figures like Betta Edu and Sadiya Umar Farouq.

Regarding Aisha Achimugu’s case, the EFCC must adhere to due process and uphold its promise to act with diligence and integrity. Recent arrests, including that of Bauchi State Accountant General Sirajo Muhammad Jaja, show the commission is active, but visibility and transparency are critical.

Despite receiving accolades, such as the Government Spokesperson Award and the Courage in Justice and Transparency Award from the Nigerian Human Rights Community, EFCC must do more to recover funds stolen through schemes like CBEX. Collaborating with Interpol to dismantle international fraud networks and prevent future scams using forged EFCC certificates will reinforce the commission’s credibility locally and abroad.

Transparency is the only antidote to growing public cynicism about the Commission’s integrity.

The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), though laudably organising programs like its stakeholders’ meeting on accountability in local government, must now transition from talk to action. Corruption within Ministries, Departments, and Agencies (MDAs) remains rampant. A recent ICPC report showed that over 60% of corruption cases involved diverting healthcare funds—a scandal demanding decisive intervention.

April has ended, but the wounds it inflicted are still fresh. If we’ve learned anything, it is that the fear of the Nigerian state must be restored—not with hollow rhetoric, but through coordinated, courageous, and relentless action.

The enemies of Nigeria no longer fear our uniforms, our institutions, or the name “government.”

The time to act was yesterday. Today is already a dangerous gamble. Tomorrow may be too late.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a PRNigeria Fellow and author. He can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.