Opinion

By Oladoja M.O

In the grand, often tumultuous, theatre of African politics, a deeply entrenched and insidious narrative persists: the Messiah-Villain Binary. This simplistic, yet devastating, framework casts political leaders not as fallible public servants, but as either divine saviours or malevolent destroyers. It’s a binary that suffocates nuance, stifles accountability, and, in a continent desperate for democratic maturity, acts as a corrosive cancer on the body politic. We must call this what it is: a dangerous delusion that has shackled Africa’s progress for far too long.

This orientation, a relic of post-colonial strongman politics, reduces the complex art of governance to a moral melodrama. Citizens, conditioned to see their leaders as larger-than-life figures, become spectators in a perpetual battle between good and evil. When a new leader emerges, they are instantly elevated to the status of a messiah, the one chosen to slay the dragons of poverty, corruption, and instability. Any opposition is, by default, cast as the villain, a saboteur working against the people’s will. This is not just a rhetorical device; it’s a profound psychological trap that prevents a healthy, critical relationship between the electorate and those they elect.

Look no further than the story of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. In the euphoric dawn of independence in 1980, Mugabe was the indisputable messiah. He had led the liberation struggle, promised the people a new land, and was seen as the architect of a new, prosperous Zimbabwe. But as his rule solidified, dissent grew. His staunchest supporters did not see his brutal suppression of the Gukurahundi massacres and his increasingly authoritarian tendencies as the actions of a flawed leader, but rather as the necessary evils required to defeat the ‘villains’—the opposition, foreign agents, and internal critics. This narrative allowed him to dismantle democratic institutions and cling to power for nearly four decades, all while his country’s economy imploded. The messiah had morphed into a tyrant, but the binary, with its pre-assigned roles, kept many from seeing the reality until it was too late.

A similar pattern can be seen in Rwanda, albeit with a different trajectory. Following the 1994 genocide, Paul Kagame was hailed as the man who pulled his nation from the brink of total annihilation. He is undeniably a messiah figure for many Rwandans, credited with bringing stability, order, and remarkable economic growth. Yet, this messianic status has made it incredibly difficult for a genuine political opposition to emerge. Critics, journalists, and political rivals who question his iron grip on power are often swiftly silenced, accused of undermining national unity or of being sympathisers of the genocidal past. 

The messiah’s narrative, while perhaps initially justified, has become a tool to legitimize the suppression of democratic pluralism. The ‘villain’ is no longer the genocidal regime, but anyone who dares to challenge the man who defeated it. This is a profound danger: when a leader’s infallibility is tied to a nation’s salvation, dissent becomes tantamount to treason.

The messiah-villain binary is a disease that festers in the heart of African electoral politics. It’s visible in the fervent, almost religious, rallies where supporters see their candidate not as a political leader with a manifesto, but as an oracle. The 2017 Kenyan election and the subsequent crisis offered a stark illustration. Both Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga were cast as messianic figures by their respective supporters. For Odinga’s base, he was the long-awaited liberator, the man who would finally lead them to a promised land of social justice. For Kenyatta’s supporters, he represented stability and continuity, the man protecting the country from the ‘villainous’ forces of instability. This emotional fervour, fueled by tribal and regional loyalties, led to a deeply polarised society where compromise became impossible. The result was not just political gridlock, but a cycle of violence and deep-seated animosity that continues to haunt the nation. The election wasn’t a contest of ideas; it was a crusade.

This issue is not just a problem of the past; it remains alive and well today. In Nigeria, the perennial politics of ‘saviour’ and ‘enemy’ plague the electoral landscape. From the military regimes to the current democratic dispensation, every election is framed as a life-or-death struggle against forces of darkness. A new candidate emerges, promising to sweep away the corruption of the past, and is instantly elevated to a messianic pedestal. Yet, once in power, the same old patterns of patronage and unaccountability emerge. The people, having invested their faith in a person rather than in institutions and processes, are left disillusioned, only to repeat the cycle with the next messiah figure. This prevents the building of strong, independent institutions, a free press, an impartial judiciary, and a non-partisan civil service, because the entire political system revolves around the individual, not the rules.

The messiah-villain binary is a trap, a narrative cul-de-sac from which genuine democratic progress cannot escape. It’s a cancer because it preys on hope, exploiting the legitimate frustrations of the populace for political gain. It turns citizens into blind followers and opponents into sworn enemies. This dangerous orientation must be dismantled. We must stop looking for messiahs. There are no magical saviours.

There are only men and women who are fallible, flawed, and accountable to the people they serve. We must demand a politics of substance, not spectacle. We must judge our leaders not by the promises they make on the campaign trail, but by their respect for democratic institutions, their commitment to the rule of law, and their willingness to be held to account.

The true liberation of Africa as a continent and Nigeria as a nation will not come from a single hero, but from a critical and engaged citizenry that understands that the power to govern belongs to them and that no politician, no matter how charismatic, is a god. It is time to retire the messiah, to dismantle the villain, and to embrace the hard, unglamorous work of building a true and lasting democracy.

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

By Abba Marke

Across the length and breadth of Jigawa State, conversations are heating up. In tea joints, markets, and political circles, people are talking, and what they’re talking about is the sudden and somewhat surprising shift in tone from the administration of Governor Malam Umar Namadi Danmodi.

Barely halfway through its first tenure, the Jigawa State Government has begun sending strong signals that it intends to seek re-election in 2027. The governor’s close allies and political associates have, in recent weeks, made comments and gestures that clearly point toward a second-term ambition.

To many observers, this early campaign-like posture has come as a shock. The people of Jigawa expected that, at this midpoint in his administration, the governor’s main focus would be on governance, performance, and fulfilment of campaign promises made during the 2023 elections. Instead, they now see high-ranking officials raising eight fingers — a symbolic declaration of a “second term” agenda — while many of the promises that inspired the electorate’s trust remain unfulfilled.

This development has left the public asking some serious and legitimate questions:

1. Is it already time to begin campaigning for the 2027 elections?

2. Have all the commitments made to the people of Jigawa in 2023 been accomplished?

These questions are not born out of malice or opposition politics; they stem from a genuine concern among citizens who want to see their state move forward. The people yearn for progress — for improved infrastructure, better schools, reliable healthcare, job opportunities for the youth, and meaningful reforms that impact their daily lives.

However, they now worry that the government’s attention is shifting away from governance toward political preservation. Many fear that this early flirtation with the idea of a second term could become a major distraction, diverting energy and resources from the actual work of leadership.

History has shown that once a sitting government becomes preoccupied with re-election, governance often suffers. Projects slow down. Accountability weakens. Public servants often start aligning themselves with political interests rather than serving the public. The people of Jigawa, who have placed their hopes in this administration, fear that this could be the same path being taken once again.

What the public is calling for is simple: focus on the job at hand. Let the government channel its full strength into delivering on its promises — building roads, improving agriculture, empowering the youth, reforming education, and uplifting rural communities. Once visible progress is made and the people feel the impact of good governance, the question of a second term will naturally answer itself.

For now, the citizens of Jigawa are watching closely. They want results, not rallies. They want action, not ambition. And they want their leaders to remember that time spent seeking a second term could be better spent earning it.

Abba Marke wrote via abbayusufmarke@gmail.com.

By Ibrahim Aisha 

Across much of Northern Nigeria, girls still face an invisible wall after secondary school. Parents’ fears, tight household budgets, and the pull of early marriage keep many daughters at home. Yet, data and role models reveal what is lost when the ambition of a female child is clipped.

For generations, education has been regarded as the key to progress and empowerment. Still, in conservative societies, the education of girls beyond the basics is often seen as unnecessary or even a threat to tradition despite government campaigns, NGO interventions, and success stories of women who have broken barriers.

The world has become a global village. Technology, digital communication, and international mobility have reshaped how we live and work. In this new reality, uneducated girls are left voiceless, powerless, and excluded from the spaces where contemporary women now thrive sitting in parliaments, leading global institutions, directing multinational companies, and innovating in science and technology.

Why, in 2025, do some communities still resist girls’ education?

The answer often lies in illiteracy. Parents who never had the privilege of education sometimes fail to see its value. Many fear what they do not understand. To them, sending a daughter to university feels like losing her to an unknown world.

Data from the National Bureau of Statistics as at 2017 defined literacy as the percentage of people aged 15 and above who can read, write, and understand simple expressions in any language. A Punch Editorial Board report from September 2023 highlighted Nigeria’s poor education outlook: although the government claimed a national literacy rate of 69%, this figure hides wide regional disparities. 

According to a UNICEF report on the state of Nigeria’s children, 10.2 million primary school-aged children and 8.1 million secondary school-aged children are out of school in the country.Reports indicate that between 2020 and 2025, Northern Nigeria consistently recorded between five and seven million out-of-school girls, with only minor fluctuations despite ongoing efforts.

Socio-Cultural Impediments 

Household-level constraints on access to education are not entirely economic. Studies and surveys identify several socio-cultural factors: erosion of extended family solidarity, weakening societal values, and gender-related issues such as teenage pregnancy, early marriage, and perceptions about the “proper role” of women.

Northern Nigeria is still shaped by cultural practices harmful to women’s emancipation, including early and forced marriage, wife-inheritance, widowhood practices, lack of access to education, low enrollment rates, poor funding, inadequate facilities for persons with disabilities, and frequent disruptions caused by conflict and seasonal migration.

Stories from the Ground

The experiences of girls and women across the North reveal both the struggles and the possibilities of education.

Rahama Dajuma, a graduate, said that education had done everything for her. She now works with an NGO and is about to get married. She relieved her father from the stress of buying furniture for her wedding, and her fiancé is allowing her to keep her job.

Zainab Abubakar, a student, mother and a resident of Sabuwar Gwammaja, argued that girls should be asked their opinions because “you can force a horse to the riverbank but you cannot force it to drink.” She added that many parents above 60 in her community do not want their sons to marry women educated beyond secondary school, fearing such women will not be submissive.

Zakiyyah Al-Hassan, a resident of Chiranchi, shared that she is not educated but wants her child to go beyond secondary school. According to her, the world is changing and women should not be stuck in the kitchen, as educated women contribute to the home even before bringing in their salaries.

Fatima Abubakar, a student of the School of Hygiene, explained that she is the only one schooling out of nine children. Her father could not afford fees for all, so her siblings sacrificed for her.

Iya Aminatu, a resident of Kurna Kwachiri, revealed that none of her seven daughters went beyond junior secondary school because her husband is completely against it, and she could not object to his decision.

Malam Rafa’i, a local Islamic teacher and resident of Tsakuwa, said during a telephone interview that it is a waste of time and resources to send a girl to school when she should stay home and learn how to cook so as to be a perfect wife to her husband.

Fatima Haruna, a secondary school graduate, recalled that her elder sister Khadijah finished with flying colours and was promised that she could continue schooling. After marriage, her husband refused, saying he had no intention of letting her further her education. He had only used that promise to lure her into marriage. Since then, their father insists that no daughter can further her education unless her husband agrees.

The Road Ahead

These stories show that the real question has shifted from “Should girls be educated?” to “How fast can Northern Nigeria catch up?” Education experts and stakeholders warn that if the situation does not improve, Northern Nigeria risks falling further behind, with dire consequences for national development. The region needs more investment in infrastructure, security, and teacher training. Cultural reorientation campaigns must also be intensified to promote the value of education, especially for girls.

The answer lies in stronger government commitment, sustained community awareness, and the courage to challenge harmful traditions. Education is no longer a privilege. It is a necessity for survival in the global age. 

By Lawal Dahiru Mamman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Aliyu U. Tilde

We will write herein facts that even Professor J. O. Amupitan, the current INEC Chairman, will find it difficult to deny. It regards the “Legal Brief” he wrote in 2020 recommending foreign intervention in Nigeria. I owe him the respect of a student and a consideration for his standing as a legal luminary. Follow me on this long trip.

1. Context

We are judging Prof. Amupitan in retrospect, based on something he wrote five years ago in his limited capacity as a university lecturer at my alma mater, University of Jos (UNIJOS). He may have shifted his position on some issues since then. His current position as INEC chairman will now expose him to the challenge and experience of fairness and inclusion, which the environment of Jos could not afford him. Today, if asked to write on Christian genocide in Nigeria, I believe he would sound radically different.

We are engaging him, nonetheless, on this past record for the benefit of its future readers. It will also help us understand the arguments used to convince President Trump to enlist Nigeria as a Country of Particular Concern in 2020 when the Legal Brief was written.

2. Audience

It is also important to note that he did not write the legal brief for the general public, an academic press or a client before a court of law. It was the main body of a document titled Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter: Genocide in Nigeria and Implications for the International Community, which is “authored, published and distributed by Washington-based International Committee on Nigeria (ICON) and International Organisation for Peace-building and Social Justice.” 

Principally, they are among the organisations that pressured American authorities to sanction Nigeria in 2020. The first item in the Foreword of the publication was a letter to Michael Pompeo, the then-US Secretary of State under Trump, written by former Congressman Frank R. Wolf.

Giving this highlight is important in understanding why, unlike other professional, academic and journalistic documents, Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter is limited in scholastic latitude. It speaks only to Christians, for Christians, and for the purpose of Christians. When thrown into the public arena, as Sahara Reporters has done now, its bias will attract the reproach of many.

3. Unprofessional Language

The professor has in many places used words that are unbecoming of an academic or legal luminary in a number of instances as the foundations of his argument. Speaking about the demographic superiority of Muslims in the North, he said: 

“…while the Hausa/Fulani people are predominantly Muslims and are said to be in the majority” without any reference in the end. “Are said” here entertains doubt in the fact he mentioned. Well, thank God, Prof is INEC Chairman today; the voters’ register and elections result records will teach him the hard truth. Other unbecoming phrases include “it was taken for granted”, “it is believed”, “it is a notorious fact”, “Christians generally believe…”.

A layman can be forgiven if he uses such terms. But, with due respect, they must not be the diction of a Senior Advocate.

4. Spurious and Tendentious Claims:

The “Legal Brief” is loaded with baggage of spurious and tendentious claims that are not supported by statistics, historical records or judicial pronouncements. For example, he said:

— “Fulani people only joined Nigeria in the 19th Century through trade, jihad and conquest”,

— “major tribes in Nigeria – Hausa/Fulani, Yoruba, Igbo”,

— the British “handed over a polity fraught with dishonest census figures, political gerrymandering and favouritism in the appointment into the public service in favour of the Northern Region, as a reward for the northerners’ loyalty to the colonial administration”,

— “…with the distorted systemic structure in favour of the Hausa/Fulani, it is possible to revisit the 1804 agenda while the other ethnic groups believe that constitutionalism has brought into existence a true federation based on equity, fairness and justice.”

—“The drive for Islamisation of Nigeria through the jihad of 1804… has now manifested as the Jama’at Ahl as-Sunnah lid-Da’ wah wa’l-Jihad commonly called Boko Haram, Fulani herdsmen’s attacks and even the Sharia controversy.”

I have listed 49 such unsubstantiated statements and appended them at the bottom of this article. If anyone wants to hang Prof academically, Prof has handed him is enough rope to do so. The statements are not only inaccurate but, taken together, paint the Hausa/Fulani in a very poor light. The brief repeatedly vilifies them at various points, using unfounded claims. But it is not our intention here to hang him. I will advise Prof to check them and make corrections in future.

5. False Premise

Certain claims he made appear to be inaccurate or misleading. Consider this: 

Speaking of atrocities of Boko Haram and Fulani herdsmen, he said: “The victims of the crises are mainly the Christian population and the minority ethnic groups in Nigeria.” 

Haba! This is a misstatement that even a Christian boy on TikTok disproved yesterday: He said, “I will speak the truth. I am from Borno. If 10 people are killed by Boko Haram, 9 will be found Muslims.”

But fairness and truth are not the language of even the most highly placed clerics if they are promoting a sectarian agenda. A similar misrepresentation was also made by the Anglican Bishop of Jos, Benjamin-Aghak Kwashe, in his contribution to the Foreword. He said:

“It is a common development and an everyday occurrence across Nigeria to kill Christians, meanwhile offenders are not being prosecuted and the leaders are unresponsive…We recognize that Christians are taking the brunt of the persecution but even Muslims in the northwest and in some parts of the northeast have been killed.”

If the argument of Christian genocide in Nigeria is premised on such bareface fabrication—that majority of those killed by Boko Haram and bandits are Christians, and it is going on every day, and that the authorities did nothing about it or prosecuted nobody—then the conclusion that a foreign intervention is necessary is baseless. It is so painful to see highly placed individuals in the society promoting such a deeply misleading narrative against the people and government of their country before foreigners like this.

Last week, the Federal Government revealed that it has convicted over 730 people on charges of terrorism. And if the government had indeed done nothing, as claimed throughout the document, would not the entire Borno, Yobe and Adamawa States have been under its singular dream caliphate? Who fought Boko Haram back into the forest of Sambisa and the hills of Gwoza after it was set to take over Yola in 2014? Who killed Muhammad Yusuf, Shekau, and so many of their followers? Who killed hundreds of bandits and their leaders in the northwest? 

And if Christians are killed daily, as the bishop said, how many were killed in the past two days—11th and 12th November—and where? In fact, peruse the papers of the last week, where is a single report indicating the killing of a Christian in Nigeria by Boko Haram or bandits other than in the imagination of these sectarian leaders?

It is into this baseless pit that the Christian Right in America and the Anglican Church in England fell and which, fortunately, the Vatican resisted many times.

6. Extrapolation

Prof hardly backed his assertions with the requisite data befitting his intellectual station, even when data on most ethno-religious incidents in the North can easily be drawn from credible sources on the Internet. And he is quick to extrapolate from a mention of just one person to cover the entire Christian North. An example is his accusation that

“Underage girls are abducted, hypnotized and forced to convert to Islam and also forced into marriage, as exemplified by the case of Ese Rita Oruru, a 13-year old Christian girl who was abducted on 12th August, 2015, by Yunusa Dahiru…where she was raped, impregnated and forced to convert to Islam and marry her abductor without her parents’ consent.” This was a girl, if we remember, who voluntarily fell in love with a muslim boy and followed him to the North.

From this single case, he said, “There are more of such cases unnoticed and such minors were forced to deny their faith and married their abductors without any hope of seeing their parents again.”

Prof and his evangelical co-travelers are lucky to be living amidst a very docile Muslim population. The Muslims can show many camps where muslim children are kept by Christian clerics and organizations.

—In 2015 or so, I visited one orphanage operated by a Christian woman from Jalingo who camped many children victims of Boko Haram from Borno State in a building just after the checkpoint before Miango in Plateau State. She refused me contact with the children. 

—the reporter scandal involving the abduction of 21 Muslim children and detention by the ECWA church in Jos until rescued by the DSS in 2022?

— the report of Christian police woman caught with several children she abducted from Sokoto at Abuja motor park on 14/5/2024? 

—the reported police case of 9 muslim children that were kidnapped from Kano and sold in Anambra who were reunited with their parents on 12/10/2019?

—the report of Plateau pastor Dayo Bernard’s child-trafficking syndicate and ACHAD sect (2024–25) by HumAngle Media

— the report of NAPTIP’s 2025 rescue of Kano children in Delta orphanage by Vanguard & Guardian (Nigeria)

—This is not to mention several cases of the systemic North-South child trafficking for domestic work and exploitation as contained in the reports of NBS, UNICEF, ILO, TIP, etc. I can provide Prof with a long list, any day.

Also, the data of gender based violence against Christian women perpetrated by “Fulani militants and Boko Haram” in Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter was only a list of seven women, none of whom was reported killed but taken to the bush for days, denied food, caned or asked to carry out arms for the bandits, according to the publication. Imagine! How does this compare to the enslavement of Muslim women in Yelwan Shendam, their massacre at the turn of every religious conflict for the past 35 years by Christian militia in Northern Nigeria? Does Prof need a list?

Then came the singular mention of Leah Sharibu’s case, the only girl not released among the abductees of GGSS Dapchi. She was used by Prof to prove how Christians are forced to convert to Islam by Boko Haram. How many filled the gap between her and the purported many? No statistics was given by Prof or in the publication.

7. Admission and Concealment

There have been areas in the “Legal Brief” where Prof was forced to admit, albeit reluctantly, Muslim victims in attacks by Boko Haram and bandits or communal clashes in the North without conceding that they are the majority:

— “Boko Haram, therefore, targets Christians, other non-Muslims and even Muslims opposed to their ideologies of Salafi-Jihad”,

— “Attacks and reprisals have been launched by both Christian and Muslim groups in different parts of Plateau State”,

—“Then attacks and clashes occur with mutual casualties. Either or both sides accuse each other of genocide and crimes against humanity. Government looks the other way. Hence, the violence keeps revolving.”

—“The pattern of violence in Nigeria is such that anytime there is an attack against an ethnic or religious group in one part of the country, members of the ethnic or religious group in another part or other parts of the country will react by carrying out retaliatory attacks.”

One would expect that, faced by this reality which he acknowledged, Prof will take the professional lane of advocating for both Muslim and Christian victims and give the balanced data that indicates the share of each side in those attacks. He should also have been bold to mention the atrocities of Christian attackers, including not less than 10 horrendous occasions, that would flatly qualify as war crimes according to the standards he mentioned, some of whom, as in the case of Zamani Lekwot, were even sentenced to death by the Courts.

Also, while speaking about genocide, he has forgotten to mention the cleansing of large Christian-dominated areas of Muslims, over forty settlements in Plateau State alone as at 2012, each following heinous massacres of Muslim inhabitants. Today, it is difficult to come across a Muslim—except for herdsmen— in the Plateau State segment of the Jos-Abuja highway from Mararraban Jama’a outside Jos to the Forest border with Kaduna State. People who did this are the same ones crying genocide!

8. Data

Prof’s lack of data aside, I am more disappointed with the data included in the publication—Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter that included his Legal Brief. Most of it is irrelevant as it does not prove a genocide against Christians.

Consider the data given on “Incidents of Atrocities in Nigeria (December 1, 2019 through March 1, 2020)” that included all kinds of violence, most of them simple civil matters between two Nigerians across the 36 states of the federation and Abuja given in 21 pages (pp 216-235). This is non-probative. Does such ordinary crime data prove any genocide of Christians in Nigeria?

So also is the data titled “Taraba State Deaths: Victims 2015-2019 – Office of the Secretary to the State Government of Taraba” (pp 238-248) that lists registered deaths from all kinds of conflicts including both Christians and Muslims names. How does it prove Christian genocide in Nigeria? Then it did not include all the 726 Muslim Fulani herders massacred in one incident in 2017-2018 by Christian militia and Mambila tribesmen, which is described as genocide by impartial mikitary officials. In the eyes of Christian led Taraba State Government, such amount of deaths did not happen.

The publication also includes data of people killed from Adara and Agatu, Irigwe etc, but it does not contain the corresponding hundreds of Muslims and herdsmen killed by Christians in those conflicts.

As for the maps that appeared later in the publication, nothing shows the number of Christian victims in isolation of Muslim victims. From the areas covered, an objective mind can easily discern that more Muslims than Christians are victims of terrorism and communal conflicts in the North.

The data was obviously presented with a bias, just concentrating on “Boko Haram and Fulani Militants”. Here is a confession made when introducing the data:

 “Our main focus is to demonstrate twenty years of genocide in Nigeria. from the period January 1, 2000 to January 31, 2020. We recognized that there are several components and perpetrators, but we concentrated on two main ACTOR codes: • Boko Haram / ISIS / ISIL / Islamic State / ISWAP / Al-Queda (and) Fulani / Herder / Militant Extremists.”

Thus, the ethnic militia that have perpetrated mass killings against Muslims in Christian dominated areas were not a target of the data. And neither did the data separate Muslims from Christians. So how can it be used to prove genocide? 

In some instances, the perpetrators are classified just as Fulani, without even qualifying them as militants or bandits or whether they are acting in self defence or reprisal. So the whole Fulani as a tribe are guilty. What a data!

9. Recommendations

In the closing section of the Legal Brief, Prof outlined 9 recommendations which give us a resounding proof of what he actually said in 2020:

—“set up an independent, neutral and impartial international commission of inquiry to investigate the causes of recurrent crimes under international law in Nigeria; identify perpetrators and make appropriate recommendations for immediate action pursuant to Articles 33 and 39 of the Charter of the UN”;

—“impose sanctions on State and non-State actors responsible for the series of serious crimes in Nigeria, which have led to mental agony and colossal losses of lives and properties…”;

—“set up a UN-backed tribunal in Nigeria to try perpetrators of the crimes as was the case in former Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Sierra-Leone…”;

—“the UN Security Council can be pressured by the major powers to refer the case of Nigeria by virtue of its referral powers under Article 13 of the Rome Statute to the ICC”;

— “the UN Security Council passing a Resolution, making call for jihad in any part of the world a barbaric act and a breach of the Charter of the UN which would result into enforcement action under Chapter VII of the Charter, and would also constitute an inchoate act of genocide under the Genocide Convention for the purpose of the OTP’s investigation and prosecution”;

—“mobilize local and foreign non-governmental organizations to put pressure on Nigeria to act in compliance with its international obligations”;

—“Contracting Parties to the Genocide Convention should sue Nigeria at the International Court of Justice for failing to comply with its obligations to prevent genocide and to punish perpetrators in the country in line with Articles 8 and 9 of the Genocide Convention”;

— “military action by the UN, African Union and ECOWAS forces may be taken as a last resort: Article 42 of the Charter of the UN”;

—“once the perpetrators of heinous crimes in Nigeria are identified, other States should apprehend them if they are in their territories and prosecute them (sic) universal jurisdiction.”

To claim that Prof has called for military action against Nigeria is not correct. As a lawyer he laid out the procedure and recommended military action only as a last resort.

So how has Donald Trump promoted it to a first or second resort? Prof has listed a number of steps beginning with investigation, prosecution, judicial pronouncement that there indeed war crimes and genocide have taken place, then enforcement, before military action—“as a last resort”.

I think President Tinubu should dispatch Prof to Washington to help educate Trump that his threat to militarily intervene in Nigeria is a violation of International Law. Or he can ask him to write a new Legal Brief for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to that effect.

What I only find surprising is how Prof himself jumped the gun and concluded that genocide is taking place in Nigeria without waiting for any of the official investigation and judicial pronouncement he recommended. On this charge, I find him guilty of haste.

10. INEC Chair

After the revelation of Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter and his contribution therein, many people have questioned the moral standing of Professor Amupitan to chair our Independent National Electoral Commission, INEC, given that it is a position that requires the fairness of a magistrate. Unless he has learnt his lessons, the Legal Brief, if tendered for magisterial examination even in Unijos, would be returned with a poor grade by any impartial examiner. In it, there is more than sufficient material for critics to argue that Prof displays a sectarian bias that borders, in their view, on hate for a section of the Nigerian population.

Ordinarily, in many climes, he woukd have reconsidered his position after this revelation. The president too would have revisited his appointment. But…”kai, Najeriya ce fa”, as Danbello would say. 

Conclusion

From the reaction of many Nigerians to his legal brief, I pray that Prof has learnt his lesson. He is now in a position where he must embrace all Nigerians, including those he sufficiently demonized in the brief. INEC headquarters is not an ecclesiastical building. It is not CAN headquarters. It is also neither the office of an academic in Jos nor the chamber of a legal practitioner waiting for recruitment by a client. It is a station for justice to all Nigerians. I know that this challenges his orientation and background but it is one which the nation hopes he will overcome during his tenure.

Meanwhile, he must—ironically—join other officials in telling his American partners directly or through writing a new brief that there is no Christian genocide in Nigeria. If Tinubu would perchance hear pim from him crying genocide again, he is on his own. Tam!

12 November 2025

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LIST OF SPURIOUS STATEMENTS

Below are 49 statements from Prof. Amupitan’s legal brief (as published in Nigeria’s Silent Slaughter report) that appear wild, exaggerated, or unsupported by credible evidence.

1. It is a notorious fact that there is perpetration of crimes under international law in Nigeria, particularly crimes against humanity, war crimes and genocide. (p. 36)

2. One word that the Nigerian authorities and international investigators and rapporteurs have not mentioned (or simply refuse to mention) in respect of the protracted violence in Nigeria is ‘genocide.’ Is this a deliberate omission or an oversight? (p. 36)

3. The alleged involvement of the State and non-State actors in the commission of crimes under international law in Nigeria has complicated an already complex situation. Consequently, the situation beckons the urgent need for a neutral and impartial third-party intervention, especially the UN and its key organs… (p. 39)

4. (There is an) urgent need for… intervention, especially the UN and its key organs, the military and economic superpowers, and regional or sub-regional organisations… (p. 39)

5. Prof. Amupitan declared that crimes under international law – including genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity – were being perpetrated in Nigeria. (p. 36)

6. The Fulani herdsmen are predominantly Muslims and exhibit fundamentalist tendencies substantially similar to those of the Boko Haram sect. (p. 42)

7. The Boko Haram sect is a desire for the Islamisation of Nigeria. The Fulani ethnic militants, on their part, have engaged in the same anti-Christian violence as their Boko Haram counterparts.” (p. 47)

8. Since it is the agenda of the Fulani to Islamise the whole of Nigeria, they have used the machinery of the State, deliberately handed over to them by the colonialists, to advance their cause at all times. (p. 72)

9. The period of the military regime was used maximally to create States and Local Government Areas, and set boundaries, in a manner that gives economic and political advantages to the Hausa-Fulani ethnic group. (p. 72)

10. The military regime ensured that major strategic appointments went to the Hausa-Fulani group, while their promotions in the public service, especially in the military, police, and customs, were accelerated. (p. 72)

11. The well-orchestrated plan paid off for them because the other ethnic groups did not realise their agenda to Islamise the whole of Nigeria, and by the time the plan was being understood by some… the damage had already become too much. (p. 72)

12. The military, police, customs, and the public service as a whole have been taken over completely, with Islamic fundamentalists planted in strategic positions to supervise the final phase of the agenda. (p. 72)

13. Boko Haram and Fulani herdsmen [are] responsible for an orgy of bloodbath and massive displacements in many States across Nigeria. (p. 36)

14. Although Boko Haram had been formally designated a terrorist organisation in 2013, the Fulani herdsmen — whom he directly accused of orchestrating widespread massacres — had not been officially recognized as terrorists, but rather ‘labelled a terrorist group.’” (p. 36)

15. There is evidence that genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity have been committed by both State and non-State actors. (p. 39)

16. The Nigerian Government has not demonstrated sufficient willpower to deal with the crises; hence they have persisted and proliferated. As there is delay in taking drastic actions, lives are being lost, thereby inching the country’s destination to another Holocaust, Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Darfur and Myanmar. Can the country survive it? (p. 108)

17. Nigeria risks repeating the mistakes of Rwanda and Sudan, where international hesitation led to mass atrocities. (p. 108)

18. Nigeria’s constitutional failure to protect its citizens has made international intervention both a legal and moral necessity. (p. 92)

19. The Fulani militants have engaged in a campaign of killing Christians in the Middle Belt Region of Nigeria, where their activities have been most felt, and indeed other parts of the country. (p. 47)

20. The victims of the crises are mainly the Christian population and the minority ethnic groups in Nigeria, and hence the need for remedial actions under international law. (p. 39)

21. In tracing the roots of Nigeria’s ethno-religious conflicts, Amupitan linked modern-day violence to the Fulani-led jihad of Uthman Dan Fodio in 1804, describing it as a ‘full-blown Islamization agenda. (p. 32)

22. The Fulani elite in government and security agencies have continued to manipulate international opinion and deceive foreign governments into believing that the violence is not a jihad to Islamize Nigeria. (p. 74)

23. Following the 19th century jihad of Uthman Dan Fodio, the Hausa territories were conquered and the Sokoto Caliphate established… The success of the jihad was one of religious triumphalism that aimed at expanding the caliphate to other parts of Nigeria in an irrevocable bid to dip the Quran into the Atlantic Ocean in Lagos. (p. 32)

24. He asserted that the caliphate thereafter became a dominant force in the North, and that subsequent governments had continued to protect its influence through political arrangements. (p. 34)

25. The IDPs have become stateless in their own country. (p. 73)

26. Churches have been desecrated and destroyed in large numbers – over 13,000 churches were reported to have been closed or destroyed in the Northeast alone during the Boko Haram insurgency (2009–2014). (p. 46)

27. Over 60,000 people have been brutally killed since 2001… This conflict is six times deadlier than Boko Haram’s insurgency.

28. The persistent silence from the government is further encouragement to Fulani militants to pillage and occupy land and to kill anyone who resists. The government’s response… reinforces [them] as a group of attackers without criminal repercussions. (p. 72)

29. Fulani herdsmen, with the support of government officials, have occupied lands belonging to indigenous communities and forcefully driven away the original inhabitants. (p. 74)

30. Amnesty International reported that Nigerian security forces committed war crimes in their campaign, including extrajudicial killings and torture, yet no one has been held accountable. (p. 83)

31. The 1804 jihad has now manifested as … Boko Haram, Fulani herdsmen’s attacks and even the Sharia controversy.” (p. 35)

32. Hence this formal and urgent request for international intervention in dealing with the pogrom and attacks against the Christians and minority groups in Nigeria. (p. 35)

33. There is no source of international law under which a State … can intervene … except with the consent of the forum State. (p. 39)

34. Fulani herdsmen take advantage of the fact that their tribesmen control the Federal Government and most of the State Governments in Northern Nigeria. (p. 72)

35. The Federal Government … accepted that the kidnappers in every part of Nigeria are the Fulani herdsmen. (p. 73)

36. Miyetti Allah often takes responsibility for most of the killings by the herdsmen. (p. 73)

37. What more is to be said of State complicity and the actual agenda to fully Islamize Nigeria … This is the real reason for the violence. (p. 73)

38. Fulani elites have literally appropriated the executive, legislative and judicial powers in the country. (p. 75)

39. Communities are] immediately occupied and renamed … followed by the appointment of an Emir. (p. 75)

40. Fulani mercenaries engage in ‘retail killings’ of Christians and other ethnic or religious minorities. (p. 75)

41. This is one expansionist strategy … to depopulate many Christian communities in the Nigerian north central. (p. 76)

42. A Fulani person looks more or less like the ‘Caucasoid’ race. (p. 51)

43. The fusion of Hausa and Fulani into ‘Hausa-Fulani’ … is a grave error. (p. 51)

44. Colonialists handed over a polity fraught with dishonest census figures, political gerrymandering and favouritism … in favour of the Northern Region. (p. 34)

45. Impose sanctions … by the UN … as well as other … sovereign States pursuant to Article 52 of the Charter of the UN. (p. 109)

46. Set up a UN-backed tribunal in Nigeria … as was the case in former Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Sierra-Leone. (p. 109)

47. (Have the Security Council pass a resolution) making call for jihad in any part of the world a barbaric act and a breach of the Charter … (an) inchoate act of genocide. (p. 109)

48. Military action by the UN, African Union and ECOWAS forces may be taken as a last resort: Article 42 of the Charter of the UN. (p. 110)

49. Other States should apprehend (Nigerian) perpetrators … and prosecute them (under) universal jurisdiction. (p. 110)

By Wathrayel Bassi Amos‎‎‎

Social media was once celebrated as a force for empowerment, creativity, and free expression. Yet beneath that promise lies a sophisticated system—the algorithm—engineered to keep users endlessly engaged. This unseen mechanism values attention over awareness, pushing content that evokes the strongest emotions: anger, envy, or desire. In today’s digital landscape, shock value has become the new form of currency. The more sensational the content, the greater its reach.‎‎

The algorithm, devoid of moral judgment, amplifies whatever sustains attention the longest—even when it undermines social values. From sexually suggestive dance trends to prank videos glorifying deceit, the boundary between entertainment and immorality grows increasingly faint.

Traditional moral guides—parents, teachers, and religious leaders—now struggle to rival platforms that reward sensationalism over substance. Never has indecency been so readily available, flooding timelines without consent. Some entertainers even release explicit material intentionally, using controversy as a marketing tool. In this new age, modesty has lost its worth, while moral decay is repackaged as strategy.

‎‎Cultural and religious voices continue to warn against this decline. They decry how virtues like humility, discipline, and community spirit are being replaced by an obsession with digital recognition. Success is now measured not by integrity but by influence—the size of one’s following. This transformation goes beyond behavior; it is reshaping the psyche of the youth, cutting them off from the moral and cultural foundations that once defined Nigerian identity.‎‎

The dominance of globalized online content represents a quieter form of cultural colonization. Though Nigeria is politically free, its digital life remains governed by algorithms designed abroad—systems detached from local values. These digital gatekeepers decide what trends, what sells, and what the public sees. Some nations, like China, have moved to restrict foreign platforms to safeguard their moral and cultural integrity.‎‎

Nigeria’s youth—the nation’s largest population segment—now grow up in virtual spaces where moral responsibility is optional and validation is everything. Many define themselves not by character, empathy, or contribution, but by the currency of likes, followers, and views. Digital popularity has replaced moral virtue as the new standard of worth.

‎‎To secure its future, Nigeria must reshape its digital culture around responsibility rather than recklessness. Social media should serve as a platform for enlightenment, not erosion—a space that uplifts intellect instead of promoting indecency. The internet must return to its true purpose: a marketplace of ideas, not a stage for moral decline.‎‎

Wathrayel Bassi Amos wrote from the Department of Mass Communication, University of Maiduguri. ‎

By Rabi Ummi Umar

The 2025 Batch C1 National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) registration for prospective corps members was a real eye-opener for me. I finally understood why my friends and family had urged me to take a breather after my final exams. I was itching to do something—anything—after completing my university studies.

As humans, we are wired to anticipate the next phase, and for me, that next thing was NYSC. Yet I wrestled with how to keep myself busy before the time came.

As someone who is always on the go, I began to feel the weight of post-school reality just a few days after returning home. There was suddenly little or nothing to occupy me. Then came the thought of continuing my internship with Image Merchant Promotion Limited (IMPR), a firm where I had already gained considerable experience.

That decision helped tremendously in keeping me engaged until NYSC registration was announced. There were mixed emotions as I waited for the process to begin—excitement, nervousness, and a bit of anxiety all at once.

Finally, when the registration portal opened, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. I whispered to myself, “Alhamdulillah, I’ve finally got something to do. The next phase is here.”

On the scheduled day, Tuesday, November 4th, 2025, I set my alarm for midnight, determined to register as soon as possible. However, the portal had its own plans. It wasn’t yet open for Batch C, so I had to wait until 4:00 a.m. to try again. Luckily, it worked—I put in my email and waited… and waited… and waited some more.

Restlessness set in. I thought my email had issues. I created a new Yahoo account, called friends and co-workers for help, and tried again and again. Nothing worked, even by 6 a.m. Eventually, I decided to head to the cybercafé.

Just as I left the house around 8 a.m., an email notification popped up—it was the long-awaited link to the registration portal. Overwhelmed with relief, I whispered “Alhamdulillah” and screamed in excitement without realising it.

When I arrived at the café, the network started misbehaving. The portal kept crashing and refreshing. Still, I managed to register and fill out the manual form provided. Everything necessary was done, and I finally left around 11 a.m. Reflecting on the experience, I thought, “What a stressful but fulfilling process.”

I was among the fortunate ones. Many of my friends and schoolmates faced serious challenges—some never received their registration links, while others couldn’t access the portal at all. Our group chat was flooded with frustration. By the second day, the site had begun to crash, and by the third, it was completely down.

Over a thousand prospective corps members were unable to register, a far cry from the seamless experience promised. The ordeal was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but empathise with those who weren’t as lucky, wondering how they coped with the stress and disappointment.

The situation grew so dire that NYSC had to extend the registration deadline by two days—from Sunday, November 9th, to Tuesday, November 11th, midnight. Yet, problems persisted. The payment system for call-up numbers malfunctioned, leaving many stranded. While the extension was a relief, it also exposed the urgent need for improved infrastructure and coordination.

NYSC must do better. The registration process should be seamless, not frustrating. If this national scheme must endure, it must also evolve. People shouldn’t have to suffer this much—just to get started.

Rabi Ummi Umar is an intern at Image Merchant Promotion Limited (IMPR). She can be reached via: rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Abba Hikima

It is clear to even the most daft Nigerian that Nyesom Wike, a serving member of President Tinubu’s Federal Executive Council, is only in the PDP to sabotage it and clear the path for his benefactor, the President, come the 2027 elections. What may not, however, be clear is the extent to which Wike’s tactics and antics can undermine Nigeria’s democracy.

Whether you are APC, PDP, ADC or even politically indifferent, Wike’s actions should bother you, as long as you dream of a truly democratic Nigeria where institutions transcend whimsical meddling of the few.

From any angle, one sees a deliberate pattern that systematically seeks to dismantle the country’s main opposition party and tilts the political landscape dangerously toward one-party dominance.

The recent Federal High Court injunction, restraining the PDP from holding its planned November 15 National Convention, issued by Justice J. Omotosho, only reinforces this pattern. It aligns with a string of judicial outcomes and political manoeuvres that have consistently favoured Wike’s factional interests, all at the expense of Nigeria’s fragile democratic balance.

Between 2023 and 2025, Wike’s loyalists seized the PDP’s national secretariat at Wadata Plaza, installed their own acting chairman, and plunged the party into even deeper crisis. Earlier, he had been linked to moves to demolish the PDP headquarters in Port Harcourt and to lawsuits that derailed planned conventions.

These deliberate acts of sabotage are calculated to dismantle opposition structures and weaken the political alternatives that every democracy relies on. In Nigeria today, prominent political opposition actors are crosscarpeting from their political parties to the ruling APC, not because the APC is doing better, but to salvage their seats and realise their aspirations, which appear rather vivid with the APC.

In saner climes, inclusion of opposition figures within ruling governments is a laudable means of promoting national unity and bridging gaps. But in Nigeria’s case, Wike’s dual role, serving as a federal minister while wielding extraordinary control over an opposition party, is clearly a means of manipulation.

It blurs ethical boundaries and deprives citizens of genuine democratic alternatives.

Even more disturbing is Wike’s perceived closeness to certain segments of the judiciary- what Professor Chidi Anselm Odinkalu aptly described as a “pathological fixation.”

From 2019 to 2025, at least five major cases tied directly or indirectly to Wike’s interests have been heard before the same judge, fueling concerns of judicial clientelism —a scenario where powerful litigants can select their forums by proxy.

The danger goes far beyond politics.

If political elites can manipulate opposition parties while simultaneously bending judicial processes to their favour, then democracy becomes mere theatre. A performance that preserves power and erodes accountability.

Having said this, the National Judicial Council should randomise the assignment of politically sensitive cases and ensure that no single judge repeatedly handles matters involving the same litigants. A stronger ethical firewall must also be built between judicial officers and politically exposed persons.

Politically, Nigeria must introduce conflict-of-interest rules that bar sitting ministers or presidential appointees from exerting control over opposition parties. Democracy cannot thrive when the same hand both governs and manipulates its opposition.

Coming this far, we must accept that reform is not optional; it is existential.

Abba Hikima, Esq. wrote from Kano, Nigeria.

By Sa’adatu Aliyu

“I was Igbo before the white man came” is a saying by Chimamanda Adichie through her character Odenigbo in her infamous book Half of a Yellow Sun, reinforcing pride in her African heritage before the white man’s incursion, which destabilised the otherwise peaceful coexistence of African communal states.

However, it seems to me that she has been afflicted by the Igbo superiority complex over other tribes in Nigeria, especially the Hausa-Fulani in the North. This pride in being traditionally Igbo and human doesn’t extend to her acknowledgement of the Hausa-Fulani Muslim humanity and identity—held with equal pride—just as the Hausa-Fulani were before the Whiteman.

Ethnic Pride and Selective Humanity

Moreover, the likes of Adichie and her Igbo fanatics would rather make baseless and false claims about the Igbos being suppressed and ethnically cleansed in letters to Washington than sit to resolve their differences internally with their brothers in the North, solely because they are Muslims whom the Igbos do not perceive as human equals.

Generally speaking, the problem with the Igbos is that they believe all the lands in Nigeria belong to them. Their illusion of grandiosity makes them feel entitled to all locations in Nigeria beyond their region as places they have the right to live, seek better economic opportunities, and build a stable, secure life. In contrast, the same right is not extended to other tribes in Nigeria, especially the Hausa man, who, until today, faces all sorts of harassment whenever he is in the Southeast, sometimes stopped and asked by unscrupulous elements to pay “matching ground” money.

This is a form of tax collected from non-indigenous individuals seeking better economic opportunities over there—a thing that doesn’t occur in the North. Unlike the South, even though Muslims predominantly inhabit the North, it has a significant presence of churches, whereas the presence of mosques is not tolerated in the Southeast except in a few exceptional cases. Moreover, if the North was so brutal towards the Christians as they depict, why do Southerners/Eastern Nigerians seek greener pastures in the North more than the North moves towards their region? If it was so unfriendly to the Igbos and Christians, why not the Igbos remain in their regions, and the North remain in theirs?

Power, Entitlement, and the North–East Tension

While all Nigerian citizens have the right to live and build a life devoid of fear in any part of Nigeria, the Igbos particularly think they should be the ones solely steering the affairs of Nigeria and should be the sole tribe entitled to managing the juiciest positions in government, merely for being Igbo, not necessarily based on superior qualification.

Understanding the mentality of the Igbos has led to what I’d like to refer to as a “personality clash” with the Hausa-Fulanis. Despite being perceived as backwards in an educated population, they are like poor men who would never sacrifice their dignity for money, nor bow to any force that may seek to demean them based on possessing more Western education.

This has led to the long-standing tension between the two ethnic groups. The case of the North and the East is akin to a couple in their early years of marriage experiencing a clash of personality—not necessarily due to lack of love or to cause deliberate harm, but because one happens to blow issues out of proportion by arguing that the other insists on hurting them deliberately.

Instead of checking in with their ego, they engage in score keeping, accusing, and incessantly crying out for help, even if it means seeking a third party in the cloak of a certified therapist—who may hiddenly be a psychopath and has no genuine interest in the wellbeing of the couple, but instead has its greedy eyes on the money to be extorted from them, further destroying their home.

The West as “Therapist”: Foreign Meddling and Naivety

This is precisely what the Christians in Nigeria are doing by seeking the intervention of so-called America, peering underneath African countries’ beds looking for genocide, when the very foundation of the U.S. was built on the vile killings of Indigenous Native Americans.

This scenario has been fueling some of the false accusations circulating in the media about genocide against Christians in the North. It is no doubt Nigeria has been plagued by indiscriminate killings and kidnappings in the past few years, but this has involved the loss of lives and livelihoods of citizens across all ethno-religious groups—mainly by Boko Haram militias and banditry—and not killings affecting Christian communities alone, as the naive Christians of Nigeria, who still put the U.S. on a saintly pedestal, have been framing it.

This is mere fabrication born out of a myopic desire to destabilise the fragile peace still holding the nation together, forgetting that foreign powers have never and will never look out genuinely for the Black race, but have repeatedly set their eyes on how to invade and plunder the resources of our dear land.

Be it the U.S., Russia, China, or other subordinate world powers, they couldn’t care less if Africa burned. All they would do is not find a way of quenching the fire but find a means to steal our resources, all the while supplying the weapons we’ll use to maim our brothers with whom we share the same African Black DNA.

It is sad that, in the eyes of Nigerian Christians, America remains a demigod they rush to whenever facing a “problem.” in this manner. But this doesn’t paint the image of a race free from the shackles of colonialism—it looks to me like a remix of the same song to which we can’t dance, should any foreign power invade as is being threatened by the U.S currently. 

Nigerians should never forget Libya, Iraq, Afghanistan, Sudan, and every other country the U.S. has invaded. It was never for goodwill or for the sake of the masses to have a better life; it was never about democracy but about the kleptomaniac instinct of foreign powers to pillage, to use the stolen resources of Africa to build their countries.

Colonial Mind enslavement and the Illusion of Freedom

When Chimamanda Adichie said she’s Igbo before the invention of the white man, I presume she was refuting the attempt of the white colonialist to redefine her ancestral root. She was rejecting the image of the indigenous people of Africa that the white man struggled to create to wipe out her identity.

I also want to believe the white man here is seen as foreign, intrusive, with no right to rewrite the history of the African people, nor to decide our destiny. But how come the same Nigerians, especially Igbos who pride themselves on being a fraction of the Black race, are quick to call for the intervention of the same white man to salvage them—to resolve a conflict with their African brothers on religious division, (the religions) on the basis which they’re stirring foment being a product nothing but a product of colonialism?

Yet they pick up their pens and still write saintly yet furiously about pride in Africa, Pan-Africanism, Negritude, and pride in the Black race they claim to represent. And one wonders with the level of hate projected towards Northern Muslims, whether they are not part of the black Africans. To me, this is nothing short of colonial mind slavery that still bedevils even our so-called intellectuals, blinded by religious fundamentalism and succumbing to it so effortlessly. Hence, one begins to question their education.

As Chuba Okadigbo once said:

 “If you are emotionally attached to your tribe, religion or political leaning to the point that truth and justice become secondary considerations, your education is useless.

If you cannot reason beyond petty sentiments, you are a liability to mankind.”

Mirroring a similar view, if the educated one cannot look beyond ethno-religious sentiment and live objectively, he has no business being called educated. However, this is a hat donned by several of Nigeria’s think tanks, sadly.

Similarly, Nelson Mandela reminds us:

 “It is not our diversity which divides us; it is not our ethnicity, or religion or culture that divides us…”

Can the African mind ever be decolonised? I doubt so. It might all look like we are free, but there’s no freedom without the freedom of the mind.

So, the quest of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o for Africans to free themselves from mental colonial slavery—which led to his abandonment of the English language and adoption of Kikuyu—doesn’t extend to this area for many Christian fanatics who happen to be influential writers from the Eastern part of Nigeria. And this is utterly disheartening.

In Conclusion

In the wake of all this commotion, I perceive the naivety of those spreading these lies to draw foreign intervention in Nigeria as an act of somnambolic foolishness—for which I am sure they will regret when they come face to face with the hypocrisy that lies in the heart of world powers, should they get what they are calling for.

I pray for peace, unity, religious understanding, and togetherness in Nigeria and the world at large. Let us always remember: a shred of peace is better than no peace at all.

Saadatu Aliyu is a writer and poet based in Zaria. Email @: saadatualiyu36@gmail.com 

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

I rarely discuss politics, policy, or religion at any level on social media. These three are totally beyond my modest capabilities. However, the Educationist in me stirred when it became news in November 2025 that a bill was being proposed in the Kano State House of Assembly, titled the Kano State Mother Tongue (Hausa Language) Education Enforcement Bill. It was introduced by Musa Kachako, a member representing Takai under the New Nigeria Peoples Party (NNPP). 

The Bill seeks to ensure that all instruction in primary and secondary schools in Kano (presumably those under Local Education Authorities) is conducted in the Hausa language. According to online reports, when presenting the bill during plenary, Kachako stated that the initiative followed global best practices in education, citing countries such as China, Japan, and India, which he noted had made significant strides in science and technology by teaching children in their native languages from an early age. Kano State can do this because Education, being on the Concurrent Legislature, gives room for any policy variation of Education from that of the Federal Government’s Exclusive list. 

Certainly, the idea of teaching all subjects in Hausa springs from a noble intention — to enable children to learn in the language they understand best, and to reaffirm local identity against the long shadow of colonial linguistic domination. I witnessed this during my tenure as a Teaching Practice Supervisor in various schools in Kano. Students tended to understand language lessons more fluidly than those in other languages. And we are talking about over 40 years ago. Along the line, I even came up with how to use Hausa proverbs to teach science, based on over 30 curated Hausa proverbs with scientific content (e.g. gravity in “komai nisan jifa, ƙasa zai dawo”) and trained dozens of teachers in Jigawa (ironically enough, Kano was not interested at the time!) on this much later.   

Yet, the success of such a language policy depends on its contextual intelligence — its ability to strike a balance between local comprehension, national unity, and global relevance. In all cases of such debates, the examples of China, Japan, and India are the most commonly cited as best practices that have worked. With its virtual monolingual Hausa population (perhaps the only State in the Federation with this attribute), elevating Kano as “Little China” certainly sound, albeit contradictorily, post-colonially romantic. This all sounds inspiring. But, without taking the shine off it, how realistic is it?

There is a certain merit to the idea, but only to a certain extent. Research everywhere agrees: children learn faster and think better when taught in their native language. Even UNESCO and Nigeria’s own education policy support this approach for the first few years of primary schooling, where community languages are encouraged, rather than metropolitan languages. Let’s look at some cases.

Ethiopia is perhaps the only country in Africa with a continuous mother-tongue education system. The country did not suffer the horrors of colonisation on the same scale as the rest of Sahelian African countries, as it was only briefly occupied by Italians between 1936 and 1941. It uses regional languages (Amharic, Tigrinya, Oromo, Somali, etc.) as the medium of instruction in primary and secondary education. In universities and higher education, Amharic or English is used depending on the region and field. Thus, Ethiopia’s system is perhaps the closest to continuous mother-tongue instruction, although English dominates technical and postgraduate studies.

In Tanzania, Swahili is the dominant language in primary schools, but English is introduced from secondary schools up to universities, especially in fields such as science, medicine, and law. In Rwanda, the medium of instruction in schools was switched from French to English in 2008, while Kinyarwanda remains the mother tongue in early primary education. In Mozambique, Portuguese dominates in secondary and tertiary education, and local languages such as Makhuwa, Sena, and Tsonga are used in early primary school. 

This pattern is repeated in other African countries, such as Ghana (Twi/Ewe in early schooling, English later), Senegal (local languages in the early years, French later), and Kenya (Kikuyu, Luhya, Dholuo in early schooling, English later). Thus, no colonised African country has fully implemented mother tongue instruction from primary through university, rejecting colonial languages entirely.

In Kano, where everyone speaks Hausa, the policy could genuinely improve comprehension and reduce dropout rates. Pupils won’t have to struggle with English before grasping basic concepts in classrooms. That’s a win. However, there is a catch, and it lies in the regular comparison with China, Japan, and India, as if Kano is a nation, rather than a State within a nation that has 400 languages. Let us look at the language policies of these countries closely.

China has between 281 to 305 languages and dialects. However, it took decades — from the early 1900s to the 1950s — to standardise Mandarin (Putonghua), reform writing, and establish a comprehensive teacher-training and translation system, enabling everyone to be educated in one language. 

Japan is relatively homogeneous, but still has dialect diversity with 16 living languages. Although Japanese is the dominant language of instruction, there is no law declaring it the official language of the country. In fact, a school could use other languages. There are now a few schools that use English to teach science and mathematics classes. Japan created a national standard (based on the Tokyo speech) during the Meiji era (late 1800s) — alongside massive investment in textbooks, printing, and teacher training. India, on the other hand, is multilingual by law — it has 22 official languages and hundreds more in daily use. Each state uses its local language for early schooling, but keeps English for higher education and technology. 

So, what worked for these three was not language alone, but long-term state planning, standardisation, and bilingual balance. Each of these countries went through a long, continuously sustainable process of deliberate policy strategies that ensured the success of their language policies in Education, backed by political stability. In Kano, policies are routinely changed with new regime changes, regardless of their merit. Let us look at the obstacles. 

English remains the principal language of science, technology, and international communication. A policy that sidelines it completely in early and middle education could restrict students’ ability to compete globally and to access higher education resources. Unless a bilingual model is adopted, the system may produce students with strong local literacy but limited global mobility.

Nigeria’s labour market — in public service, academia, commerce, and technology — operates primarily in English. Graduates from a Hausa-only system would face difficulty transitioning into these environments without adequate English proficiency. This could widen inequality rather than close it. Unless there are expectations that students from Kano, who will be the products of this policy, will never work in any Federal government agency in the country. 

Nigeria’s educational bureaucracy is highly centralised. Curriculum design, examination systems (NECO, WAEC), and tertiary entry assessments (JAMB) all operate in English. Switching Hausa to the medium of instruction at primary and secondary levels, without corresponding policy alignment at higher levels, would isolate Hausa-medium students from tertiary education pathways. Thus, despite Education being on the concurrent list, centralised examinations are under the Federal Exclusive list. Kano cannot create its own WAEC, NECO, and JAMB examination boards; it must use Federal agencies for this purpose. These agencies are in Nigeria’s official language, which is English.  

Next would be concerns about teachers. Currently, and without being aware of the timeline for implementing the Bill, if it is passed successfully, there are not enough trained teachers in Kano with adequate linguistic competence to teach science, mathematics, or social studies effectively in Hausa. 

Moreover, curricular materials, textbooks, and terminologies for specialised subjects (such as chemistry, ICT, or physics) are largely underdeveloped in Hausa — except for some pioneering efforts by the Northern Nigerian Publishing Company and NTI Kaduna in the 1980s–1990s, and more recently by a few authors. For instance, the Centre for Research in Nigerian Languages, Translation, and Folklore at Bayero University, Kano, has produced eight Science textbooks in Hausa for students of primary, junior, and senior secondary schools in northern Nigeria. 

Written by Mika’ila Maigari Kashimbila of the Department of Physics, Bayero University, these are Kimiyya Da Fasaha Don Makarantun Firamare Books One to Three, Lissafi Don Kananan Makarantun Sakandare Books One to Three, Kyamistare Don Manyan Makarantun Sakandare, and Fizis (Physics) Don Manyan Makarantun Sakandare. He had earlier written Lissafin Makaratun Sakandare Na 1. 

I was even part of the committee set up by Bayero University Kano to “launch” these books, although things faltered, and I don’t think the launch ever took place. Wonderful as these books and efforts are, I believe they would serve as supplementary readers to the core textbooks, where they help to deconstruct the more esoteric prose of the English textbooks. 

Other concerns are sociological. For instance, making Hausa the exclusive medium in primary and secondary education in Kano risks political backlash from non-Hausa-speaking communities. In a multilingual federation, such a policy could be perceived as linguistic imperialism, deepening ethnic tensions and further alienating minorities. It may also entrench regionalisation rather than national integration — the very problem English was meant to solve.

Additionally, if Hausa becomes the sole instructional language, students from Kano may face difficulties participating in the global economy, digital platforms, and higher education, which remain English-dominated. True, the increasing use of Artificial Intelligence might alleviate some of these fears – but that is not the same as captive learning. A purely Hausa-medium system would require parallel translation of scientific and technological vocabulary to prevent intellectual isolation — a task that even developed monolingual nations struggle with.

On the positive side, a well-planned Hausa-medium system could revive indigenous literacy traditions, encourage the translation of modern science into local epistemologies, and restore pride in local knowledge systems. It could also expand Hausa publishing, radio, and digital content industries — thereby democratizing access to learning for those currently excluded by the dominance of English.

But the devil is in the details. Policy flip-flops reflecting a lack of consistency are the biggest danger. As antecedents have shown, this particular political climate might favour this move, complete with a law backing it. The next political class might very well destroy it simply because it was not its idea. This has always been the central characteristic of Kano politics.