Bayero University Kano

By Aisha Musa Auyo 

Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un. I am still struggling to absorb the shock of Baba Ahmad’s passing. Saying goodbye to a father, mentor, and teacher whose impact on my life cannot be overstated is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I owe my Doctorate in Educational Psychology entirely to him. Among all the paths I could have taken in life, he was the one who steered me toward this field.

I was sixteen, in my first year, when I walked into Educational Psychology 001 and met Prof. Ahmad for the first time. Back then, I resented studying education when all I had ever wanted was medicine. But his intellectual energy, his rigour, and his sheer passion changed something in me. I remember thinking, so there’s a medical side to education, a psychology that isn’t strictly clinical. This is it. This is what I should specialise in. The workings of the human mind had always fascinated me, and the learning theories he introduced us to were captivating, made simple by his rare gift for turning abstract ideas into something anyone could grasp.

That evening, I told my father about this brilliant professor. He smiled. “We went to secondary school together, in Hadejia,” he said. “Prof. Abubakar, too, from educational psychology, also from Hadejia. They’re your fathers as well. You should go and greet them sometime.”

When I finally did, before I could even say a word, he looked at me and said my name. “You’re Aisha Auyo. Your resemblance to your father is striking.” We wouldn’t cross paths again until I returned for my master’s.

He was nothing short of supportive through it all. During my defence, he could be stern, but it was the kind of sternness that steadied rather than shook you. “Aisha, kinga, dukanmu nan mu iyayenki ne. Ki kwantar da hankalinki.” Aisha, look, all of us here are your parents. If there’s anything you don’t understand, we will always be here to help and guide you.”

Whenever Prof. Ahmad spoke about psychology and research, you understood immediately that you were in the presence of someone who had mastered his craft. There was no corner of educational psychology, no angle, including its Islamic dimensions, that he hadn’t explored. He designed curricula, taught, researched, supervised, and mentored thousands. How he managed to keep expanding his knowledge alongside everything else he carried never ceased to amaze me. Dedication, commitment, grit, passion….. that rare combination made him a force wherever he stood.

His mind absorbed and retained information in a way few others could. Many of us in educational psychology drew our energy from him. He pushed people to study even on the days they had no will left to. His influence stretched across Northern Nigeria and beyond.

Students called him the “Dodo” of every defence session because if you tried to cut corners or talk your way around a gap in your work, he would catch it from a single glance. He could smell unpreparedness from a mile away, and he had no patience for laziness or carelessness, which led some to assume he lacked warmth. He didn’t. He was simply a principled man who valued hard work and honesty. Behind that exacting exterior was a humble, selfless, generous soul who helped more people than most of us will ever know.

I remember a conference in Gombe, when he learned I was staying with family friends instead of with him. He was furious and immediately tried to change the arrangement. “Aisha ba ki da inda ya fi cancanta ki zauna fiye da gidana a garin Gombe”. Aisha, there is nowhere more fitting for you to stay in Gombe than my house. He was on sabbatical at the time. When my hosts came to collect me, he kept insisting, “Diyata ce fa. Babanta yana nan” …She is my daughter. Her father is right here. Eventually, we compromised: two days with my hosts, two days with him. He opened his home to so many students, and those days were full of warmth and laughter.

When I finished my master’s defence, relieved and overjoyed that I was finally done, he called my father to congratulate him and urged him to push me back for a PhD. My father called and said, “Babanki Dr Kaugama ya ce ki dawo PhD”. Your father, Kaugama, says you should return for your PhD. I told him I would, just not yet, in sha Allah, someday soon.

My father never let it go. Every time we spoke, while I was in Ogun, he reminded me about the PhD. Your father, Ahmad, says you will have all the support you need. That was how I found myself buying the form and sitting the aptitude test. When he saw me in the exam hall, he lit up. “Aisha, I know you’ll ace this,” he said. “Kina da ƙoƙari da himma” Those words carried me through. I told myself I would not let down everyone who believed in me. Alhamdulillah, I passed and was given admission number 00001 that year.

During my PhD coursework exams, he once noticed my hands trembling and asked what was wrong. “I’m hungry, sir, I haven’t eaten,” I admitted. I had been reading and lost track of time. He told me, plainly, that as an educational psychologist, I ought to know better that the brain runs on food. He said, You need it to read, to understand, to recall, to organise your thoughts. He asked what I wanted to eat and went out himself to arrange it. I couldn’t write a word until I had eaten. Once I was full, he said, “Now continue your paper. I won’t add a single second for you. Time off is time off, for everyone.” I wrote as fast as I could and managed to answer every question. I never made that mistake again.

After my PhD viva, I asked to take a photo with him. “Aisha, ba ni da lokaci,” he teased. “Baba, you forced me to come back for this program,” I reminded him. “Remember how you called my father?” He laughed. “Yes, I remember everything.” “Then I’m forcing you to take this picture with me,” I said. “You’re part of my academic journey. You’re the reason I fell in love with educational psychology.” We took a few photos together and said our goodbyes.

Baba Ahmad was a father to many. His home was always full of orphans and relatives from Kaugama. He was a comrade, a tireless community man, a teacher in the truest sense. His death is an immense loss to his immediate family, to the NISEP family, and to every endeavour he poured himself into. May his contributions to academia continue to benefit him in this life and the next.

When I heard the news, my first thought was: Will he meet my father there? Allah ya yi musu rahama da gafara duka. Allah ya kula da bayansa. Allah ya hada mu duka a Aljanna.

May Allah grant them mercy and forgiveness, watch over those they left behind, and reunite us all in Paradise.

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

By Prof. Ibrahim Bello-Kano

Writing any kind of text, narrative, or account of the career or the personal and professional achievements of Prof. Abdallah Uba Adamu is, and always will be, daunting for a number of reasons. One of them is the sheer intellectual energy of the man, his passion for the intellect, which would be hard to describe in a short account. Second, Prof Abdallah has the unusual distinction of being officially bestowed with the title of the “Double Professor”, which means that he has contributed to scholarship in two or more academic fields, namely science education, communication studies, and cultural studies— all three fields have a vast set of scholarly literature and other empirical studies that many may fear to attempt to master in a lifetime.

Thus, it is fair to call Abdallah Uba Adamu a polymath because his scholarly interests and publications have given a new twist to the term “intertextuality”; an academic polyglot because he is versed in the languages of science, education, communication studies, and cultural studies, perhaps even of Administration (since he served as the Vice Chancellor of the Nigerian Open University, where he has left behind the enduring legacy of tertiary education reform, syllabus engineering, and the astute management of money, men, and materials.

The preceding discussion should justify my calling him with the plural “Professors” AU Adamu. My pluralisation of his official, well-earned, and widely recognised by students, peers, and colleagues title of Professor needs to be elevated to a higher order of accolade and meritorious distinction by superlativising it with a transcendental “S”. 

Thus, he alone, at least for the moment, deserves to be described as the “Super Professor” among the professors. 

Adding another “s” to his academic designation is a gesture towards his current status as not just a BUK, University, or National Professor but also as an International Professor par excellence, a Professor with scholarly and academic range worthy of being, and comparable to, the most distinguished professors in the academic world. 

Adamu’s teaching outings in the media or at public lectures are supremely well attended; he’s probably the most-quoted source on media studies, Hausa-Fulani-Muslim cultural film and media studies, and a worthy creator and domesticator of the word/adjective (the) “Islamicate”. 

There is yet another side of this gifted Professor that should be mentioned: he is unusually generous, incredibly empathetic, and a walking example of humility. One cannot see or sense or detect the simplest, the faintest, or the most unconscious sign of academic or cultural arrogance in him. What is more, he is an avid reader, a book enthusiast, and a digital wizard, if not a positively maniacal digitaliser of knowledge production itself. 

Little surprise, then, that Professors AU Adamu has got a magnetic personality: everyone, even the other Professors, want to be “caught” in his passionate discussion of academic and mundane topics. 

In a sense, then, Profs Abdallah has paid his dues to the university system. In his early career, he was the envy of his senior colleagues, who did not help his career advancement; he was the object of many a colleague’s malice. He was also badly misunderstood by his peers, who mistook his enthusiasm or passion for academic excellence for personal arrogance. But, over time, his younger colleagues began to see his merits as a scholar, a compassionate person, as a model for younger colleagues across the university. 

His rising profile as an internationally sought-after scholar and researcher began to take hold in his colleagues’ imaginations. At one time, he offered to present a paper on a cultural studies topic at my department. Some colleagues felt that it was not his “field”, so to speak. I, as the HOD, then was not convinced of the argument. When the paper was presented, everyone could see that the presenter was not of the common mill of people but a deeply learned and imaginative scholar. 

Profossors Adamu is and would always be a worthy presence in any undergraduate or postgraduate teaching circuit. His inaugural lecture drew the largest crowd ever. This walking symbol of hardworking, scholarly acumen, and academic energy is a gift to Kano, his hometown, to BUK, and to the world academic community. 

I wish him continuing good health, more research energy, more scholarly output, and more academic-intellectual sparks.

Ibrahim Bello-Kano can be reached via ibrahimbellokano@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Aliyu Maiwada, PhD

My mother and Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu’s wife have been close friends for decades. My earliest memories of the family are rooted in our home at Bayero University Kano New Campus Senior Staff Quarters, Area C, over three and a half decades ago. As a child, I remember I was fondly called “Maigida” by Professor Abdalla’s wife because I share the same name as her husband, an early, personal reminder of the many coincidences and intersections that bind our families. 

In the early 1990s, when only a few households had desktop computers or landlines, he was already digitally acculturated, an early adopter of technology long before it became commonplace. Prof. demonstrated a forward-looking embrace of digital tools, from supporting desktop computers in the early 1990s to launching a dedicated website (https://auadamu.com) and then seamlessly acclimatising with the social media space. Though not a digital native by birth, he exemplified curiosity and was always willing to explore and adopt new technologies.

Back in the classroom, Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu was a refined, multidisciplinary scholar who served as Head of Department during my undergraduate years at the Faculty of Education. Interestingly, we both began our academic journeys in Science Education. After establishing an outstanding career in Education, he expanded his intellectual horizons and pursued further studies in Mass Communication, rising to the rank of professor in the field, becoming, in every sense, a dual professor in both Education and Mass Communication.

Along a somewhat similar path, after earning my first degree in Education and a Master’s degree in Environmental Management, my various professional postings inspired me to pursue Mass Communication, from a bachelor’s degree to a PhD.

Prof. Abdallah’s intellectual brilliance, expertise, and exceptional command of English are qualities widely recognised by anyone who has encountered him. Yet, beyond these obvious attributes lies a man of principle, honour, integrity, humility, and uncommon decency. He deeply values culture, religion, and family ties.

His pursuit of knowledge has taken him across different countries of the world. Many sought to convince him to remain abroad, drawn by the depth of his knowledge and expertise, but his answer was always a firm no. His famous saying remains: “When a man is tired of Kano, he is tired of life.”

Over the years, he served in various capacities across different states and countries. Yet, despite the vast exposure and countless opportunities available to him, he remained committed to his teaching career and chose Kano as home. That decision alone has earned my deepest respect and admiration.

Our professional journeys eventually crossed paths in a remarkable way when I had the privilege of bringing the annual PR Week to my alma mater, Bayero University Kano. As I reflect on the successful delivery of the Nigeria Customs Service Public Relations Workshop 2025, held at Bayero University Kano, I find it both necessary and deeply meaningful to place on record my personal appreciation for the invaluable contribution of Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu, who is now retiring from active service upon attaining the age of 70 years.

From the outset of the workshop themed “Beyond Masters of Ceremonies: The Strategic Role of Public Relations Officers for Institutional Growth and Stakeholders’ Trust,” Prof. Abdalla distinguished himself not only as a scholar of remarkable depth but also as a committed partner in institutional development. His intellectual engagement and presence added significant value to the programme’s overall success.

I recall with appreciation his active participation in the town-and-gown panel session, where he brought to bear his vast experience in media studies, cultural communication, and higher education governance. His contributions were not abstract academic reflections; they were practical, grounded insights that challenged participants to rethink the evolving role of public relations in a rapidly changing communication environment.

Throughout the engagement, Prof. Adamu consistently demonstrated an exceptional ability to bridge theory and practice. He helped situate public relations within broader questions of institutional trust, societal perception, and knowledge production. In doing so, he enriched the learning experience of Customs Public Relations Officers who participated in the workshop and broadened the intellectual horizon of the discourse.

On a personal note, I found his interventions particularly instructive in reinforcing the Nigeria Customs Service’s commitment to strategic communication as a tool for institutional legitimacy and stakeholder engagement. His calm disposition, clarity of thought, and depth of scholarship left a lasting impression on all participants.

As Professor Abdalla steps back from active service, we celebrate not only a distinguished career but a legacy: a legacy of rigorous scholarship, faithful service, and humane leadership. The students he taught and mentored, the colleagues he collaborated with, and the institutions he served bear the imprint of his wisdom. His writings and public engagements have helped to shape national discourses around media, culture, and education; his mentorship has created new generations of scholars and practitioners who will carry his influence forward.

On behalf of the Nigeria Customs Service Public Relations Unit and in my personal capacity, I extend our profound gratitude for his willingness to honour our invitation and for generously sharing his time and expertise. The workshop’s success was unquestionably enhanced by his involvement. As he embarks upon retirement, I wish him robust health, abundant fulfilment, and continued relevance in national and global intellectual conversations.

May his retirement be a season of reflection, continued contribution, and joyous company with family and friends. The lights of classrooms and conference halls may dim for him in one sense, but his ideas, his mentorship, and his example will continue to illuminate minds and institutions for many years to come. 

Thank you, Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu, for your scholarship, your service, and your steadfast love for knowledge and community.

Abdullahi Aliyu Maiwada, PhD, mnipr, mniia, is the Deputy Comptroller of Customs and the National Public Relations Officer of the Nigeria Customs Service. He can be reached via abdullmaiwda@gmail.com.

By Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin

There are lectures you attend and forget, and there are those that stay with you and encourage you to rethink familiar ideas. The 59th Inaugural Lecture at Bayero University Kano belonged firmly to the latter.

The BUK’s 59th Inaugural lecture delivered by Adamu Idris Tanko, FRGS, FANG, a Professor of Geography at Bayero University Kano, titled: “One World, Different Nations… and the Many Lessons to Learn,” offered a simple but powerful message: development is more than economic growth.

From the beginning, Professor Tanko explained that development is not a fixed goal. Instead, it is a continuous process that changes over time and across places. What progress looks like in one country may be very different from what it looks like in another.

In the past, development was mostly about economic growth, meaning how much a country produced and earned. However, over time, this idea expanded. Attention shifted to education, healthcare, housing, and later to environmental sustainability and quality of life.

Today, we can agree that growth alone is not enough. This is clearly shown in global tools such as the Human Development Index (HDI), developed by the United Nations Development Programme, which assesses health, education, and living standards. In the same way, economist Amartya Sen argues that development should be about improving people’s freedom and opportunities.

However, the lecture also showed that even these measures do not always tell the full story. A country can grow economically while many people remain poor. In other words, growth does not always improve everyday life.

This is why geography matters. Development is not the same everywhere. In richer countries, people may focus on better living conditions and environmental quality. But in poorer regions, the main concerns are still basic needs like food, shelter, and healthcare.

While the difference is visible in Sub-Saharan Africa, the region, including Nigeria, has great potential, especially because of its young population. At the same time, it faces serious challenges, including weak infrastructure, inequality, and climate-related problems.

Additionally, even where progress is visible, it does not reach everyone equally. Improvements in health or education can easily be affected by economic problems or conflict. As a result, development is often slow and uncertain.

One of the most important parts of the lecture focused on youth. As the lecturer noted, “our estimates suggest that over 60 per cent of the population in Nigeria is youth and under the age of 35.” This, in itself, should be a major advantage. However, many young people still struggle to find jobs after school, and their skills and energy are often underutilised. This creates a bigger problem because they must eat, and when legitimate means are unavailable, they find their own ways. In most cases, their formal and non-formal ways may not be legitimate and often lead to criminality, and this is not just about unemployment—it is about wasted potential.

To address this, the lecture called for new approaches. These include improving technical education, supporting entrepreneurship, and expanding digital skills. It also stressed the importance of the service sector in creating opportunities.

Interestingly, Professor Tanko also spoke about the role of sports. At first, it may sound a bit unusual, but when you think about it, it actually makes sense. In places like Kano, you see young people every day on open fields and street corners, playing football and other games. They show real passion and raw talent. The problem is that this energy often goes unnoticed and unsupported, leaving so much potential untapped.

If properly developed, sports can create jobs and opportunities. It can involve many areas such as coaching, healthcare, media, and event management. It also helps build discipline, teamwork, and confidence. In this way, sports can become part of a broader development strategy.

Overall, the lecture reminds us that development must reflect real life. It must focus on people, not just numbers. It must also take into account local realities and provide practical solutions. For Nigeria, this message is important. The country’s future depends on how well it supports its people, especially its youth, and, most importantly, on how it turns ideas into action.

It is a clear reminder to policymakers, scholars, and society that progress should be measured by how much it improves the lives of ordinary people. The real challenge is not just to grow, but to ensure that growth is meaningful, inclusive, and sustainable.

Ibrahim Aliyu writes from Baba Ahmed University, Kano. He can be reached via ibrahimaliyu5023@gmail.com.

By Dr Eric Chinedu Omazu

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Muhsin Ibrahim

After nearly half a century of dedicated service, Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu has formally announced his retirement from Bayero University Kano, marking the end of an extraordinary academic journey defined by intellectual curiosity, resilience, and lasting impact. 

Born in Kano in 1956, Adamu began his studies in education sciences before shifting to media and communication, where he made his greatest impact. This change was key, forging a career linking pedagogy, culture, and media scholarship. Over time, he became a leading figure in Hausa media, popular culture, and communication with a unique interdisciplinary voice.

He joined the university system on 24 July 1980 as a young Graduate Assistant, rose through the ranks with distinction, and, in 2014, contributed to the conceptualisation of the Faculty of Communication. 

Prof. Adamu’s career, spanning forty-six uninterrupted years, reflects a rare blend of dedication and innovation. From the Department of Education to the Department of Information and Media Studies, his trajectory mirrors the evolution of media scholarship itself.

Beyond the classroom and research, Prof. Adamu has been a consistent voice in public discourse, including his longstanding contributions to The Daily Reality, a platform he has not only enriched intellectually but also supported materially. 

Prof. Adamu’s reflections on retirement, posted on Facebook, capture a life lived with purpose. Yet, true to form, he makes it clear that this is no final bow. With ongoing research and forthcoming book projects, the scholar remains as intellectually vibrant as ever.

By Sunusi Abubakar, ACA

Had it not been for someone I deeply respect breaking the news of Professor K.I. Dandago’s passing to me might have left me harbouring resentment towards someone for a period of my life. I was utterly shocked by Prof’s death.

Professor K.I. Dandago, widely known in Nigeria and beyond, was a renowned academic whose character was exemplary among his peers.

Those who Prof K.I. Dandago taught will agree that one thing no one could take away from him was his ethics and sense of responsibility. The professor could stand in the rain or shine just to deliver a lecture. He could climb a 10-storey building merely to fulfil his duty. Despite being ill, Prof. often stood for nearly two hours to deliver a lecture to us when we were in level 400. He was always honest and sincere in his dealings.

My first encounter with Prof was in 2018 during a lecture on Ethical Issues in Accounting. I had the privilege of discussing with him the reason for my absence from a previous lecture. Even after I gave a genuine explanation, Prof insisted that I submit it formally so that he could verify its validity.

My second encounter was after a lecture at Northwest University (NWU)’s Main Campus. I asked him about the Big Four accounting firms in Nigeria. He shared extensive insights and even explained how he facilitated a business relationship between KPMG and a private university in Kano.

My relationship with Prof grew stronger and more personal during Level 400. During that time, I often visited his office for professional guidance. He graciously agreed to act as my professional referee when I began my journey with the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria. The professor was instrumental in my path to becoming a chartered accountant and entering professional practice. I vividly remember him contacting the Principal Partner at Namadi Umar & Co. (Chartered Accountants) to secure my acceptance as an Audit Trainee. 

The last time we communicated was about my job application to Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. He assured me of his professional response and an academic recommendation. The last time I saw Prof was at a sensitisation lecture organised by the Faculty of SMS at NWU, Kano, where he served as a speaker and demonstrated his expertise in accounting and taxation, particularly regarding the new tax laws.

My relationship with Prof. was not merely that of a student and a lecturer, nor solely that of a mentor and a mentee; it was akin to that of a father and a son. The professor helped me in every possible way. I owe him a profound debt for living this life with honesty, accountability, and sincerity of purpose.

May He grant him Jannatul Firdaus and give us the fortitude to bear this irreplaceable loss.

Sunusi Abubakar, ACA, wrote from Birnin Kudu, Jigawa State.

By Muhammad Isah Zng

For many students, gaining admission into a university marks the beginning of a hopeful journey toward a better future. For me, however, gaining admission to study Mass Communication at Bayero University, Kano (BUK) came with a difficult reality: I had no sponsor to support my education.

There was no one to take full responsibility for my expenses, including feeding and other basic needs. Yet despite this challenge, I refused to let my circumstances stop me from pursuing my dream. I held firmly to three principles that guided my journey throughout the university years: faith, hope, and hard work.

When I left home for BUK to begin my studies, I quickly realised that survival would require determination beyond the classroom. I had to find a way to support myself financially while keeping up with my academic responsibilities. Deep down, I knew that no one would suddenly come to rescue me from my situation. If I wanted to succeed, I had to depend on my own efforts.

With that understanding, I made a decision that would define my entire university experience. Every weekend, I would leave the university campus to work as a woodcutter. The job was physically demanding and exhausting, but it became my primary means of survival.

From my first year in university, I maintained this routine of attending lectures and focusing on my studies during the week, then travelling off campus on weekends to cut and process firewood for sale. The work was not easy, but it provided the little income I needed to sustain myself.

Over time, I found additional opportunities to work. During my second year at the university, I started working in two different locations outside BUK. I worked under individuals such as Dan Azumi and Alhaji Aminu Dorayi Babba. Through these jobs, I earned money that helped me meet my basic needs.

The income from the work was modest but meaningful. On average, I earn between ₦3,000 and ₦4,000. On better days, I could earn between ₦10,000 and ₦13,000. That money helped me buy food and other necessities. Sometimes, it even allowed me to support two of my friends who were also struggling to survive in school.

One remarkable thing about the work was its reliability. Whenever I went out to work, I was almost certain that I would return with something to eat. It taught me the dignity of labour and reminded me that no honest work should ever be looked down upon.

Although balancing academic studies with physical labour was challenging, I remained committed to completing my education. Each day of hard work reminded me that the sacrifices I was making were steps toward a brighter future.

Today, Alhamdulillah, I have successfully completed my four-year programme at Bayero University, Kano. My graduation marks the end of one important chapter of my life and the beginning of another phase filled with new responsibilities and aspirations.

Through my story, I want to encourage young people, especially students facing financial hardship, not to lose hope. Many young people today feel discouraged when they encounter difficulties in pursuing their education. However, challenges should not define our limits; instead, they can inspire us to find creative ways to achieve our goals.

There is dignity in every form of honest work. Whether it is cutting wood, farming, trading, or doing any other job, what truly matters is the determination to move forward despite obstacles.

Life is not always easy for people who come from humble backgrounds. But it can still be meaningful and inspiring when we use our difficult situations as opportunities for growth. Hard work, patience, and faith can transform even the toughest circumstances into stepping stones toward success.

My journey from wood-cutting to earning a university degree is a testament to the power of perseverance. It is a reminder that with determination and self-belief, even the most challenging path can lead to success.

Muhammad Isa wrote via isahmuhammad571@gmail.com.

By Tijjani Ahmad, PhD 

In Northern Nigeria’s academic landscape, few names resonate as profoundly as Professor Kabiru Isa Dandago’s. For those who pursued accounting and related disciplines from the mid-1990s onward, his name was not just familiar; it was synonymous with excellence, innovation, and unwavering commitment. 

A household figure whose books lined our shelves and whose insights shaped our minds, Prof. Dandago lived a life dedicated to paying his dues in every sphere he touched: academically, professionally, administratively, socially, and spiritually. 

Prof. Dandago’s academic journey spanned an impressive 36 years (since 1990), with 19 of those as a full professor, during which he poured his heart into teaching, supervision, and research. His classrooms were not mere lecture halls but crucibles of intellectual growth, where students emerged transformed. He authored numerous papers and books that became foundational texts, demystifying complex financial concepts and inspiring generations of accountants, managers, and scholars. 

At Bayero University, Kano (BUK) and beyond, his supervision of theses and dissertations was legendary, rigorous yet nurturing, always pushing mentees to reach their highest potential. Even in his final days, his contributions to knowledge remained undiminished, a reminder that true scholars never truly retire.

Professionally, Prof. Dandago’s influence extended far beyond academia. He was a pillar in Nigeria’s accounting bodies, serving with distinction at both national and district levels in the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria (ICAN), the Association of National Accountants of Nigeria (ANAN), and the Chartered Institute of Taxation of Nigeria (CITN). His expertise shaped policies, standards, and practices, ensuring ethical integrity in a field often tested by challenges. 

Administratively, he held pivotal roles, including as Commissioner of Finance in Kano State and as a member of the Tax Appeal Tribunal, where his decisions were marked by fairness, precision, and a deep sense of public duty. These positions were not stepping stones for personal gain but platforms for service, where he navigated fiscal complexities with the wisdom of a sage.

Yet, Prof. Dandago’s greatness was not confined to boardrooms or lecture podiums. Socially, he was a force for good, deeply invested in community service and mentorship. He guided countless young professionals, offering counsel that extended beyond careers into life itself. 

His actions spoke volumes – quiet acts of kindness, support for the underprivileged, and a commitment to uplifting Northern Nigeria’s youth. Spiritually, he lived as a devout Muslim, his faith evident in his humility, generosity, and moral compass. He was a man who walked his talk, drawing from Islamic principles to foster harmony and ethical living in all he did.

My own path with Prof. Dandago began indirectly, through whispers of his reputation. As a student at ABU, I first encountered his name in the books that formed the backbone of our curriculum and in the glowing accounts from our seniors at BUK, who spoke of him with reverence. Little did I know our worlds would intersect so meaningfully. 

Our first direct meeting came in 2011 during my MBA program, when he was assigned to teach Financial and Management Accounting alongside the late Prof. Mohammed Liman, another erudite scholar we lost just last August. Their tandem was a masterclass in itself, blending rigour with inspiration.

Two years later, in 2013, fate brought us together again at Universiti Utara Malaysia, where his presence felt like a continuation of that earlier guidance. From that point onward, Prof. Dandago became more than a teacher; he was a constant in my journey, following my progress with genuine interest. 

Our paths crossed repeatedly—in projects, fora, committees—each encounter enriching me with wisdom. Whether through his direct words, sharp and insightful, or through the subtle power of his example, no one left his company unchanged. He was the true definition of a professor: not just a dispenser of facts, but a cultivator of minds and spirits.

Prof. Dandago’s life was a symphony of service, where every note contributed to a greater harmony. In a world often driven by self-interest, he stood as a paragon of selflessness, reminding us that true success lies in what we give, not what we gain. 

As we gather to honour his memory, his burial today echoes the profound impact he had, crowds drawn not by obligation, but by love and respect for a life well-lived.

May Allah (SWT) grant him eternal peace, forgive his shortcomings, and admit him into Jannatul Firdaus, the highest paradise. 

Adieu Prof.! Sai mun zo.

By Kamal Alkasim

Hauwa Salisu Fagge, a 100-level student of the Department of Mass Communication at Bayero University, Kano (BUK), has passed away.

Her death was announced on Sunday by the President of the Mass Communication Students’ Association, Mustapha Ukkasha Abubakar, who described the loss as painful and heartbreaking for the department and the wider university community.

Hauwa was actively involved in campus media activities and worked with BUK FM, where she contributed to the morning news programme. She was widely regarded by her colleagues as a passionate and dedicated media enthusiast.

“Her demise is a painful loss to the Department of Mass Communication, her family, friends, and the entire university community,” the MACOSA president said while extending condolences to her loved ones.

The association prayed that Almighty Allah forgive her shortcomings, grant her Jannatul Firdaus, and give her family and friends the strength to bear the irreparable loss.