Hausa Culture

The Kano durbar UNESCO inscription: Beyond the jubilations

By Salim Yunusa

The formal inscription of the annual Kano Durbar by the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) on its Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity is a welcome development to not just Kano but Nigeria as a whole. The nomination, adopted on the 6th of December, 2024, in Paraguay, at the 19th session of UNESCO’s Intergovernmental Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage, makes it the 8th element to be inscribed from Nigeria. UNESCO is a specialised agency of the United Nations that promotes peace and security through international cooperation in education, science, culture, and communication.

According to many sources, the Kano durbar is the world’s largest procession of colourful horses. It has evolved with the history, religion, culture, and tradition of the Kano people over time. It is usually done to mark the Islamic holidays of Eid-el-Fitr and Eid-el-Adha, among other special celebrations. While other similar durbars are carried across almost all Northern Nigerian cities such as Zaria, Katsina, Bauchi, Gombe, Hadejia, Maiduguri and Sokoto, the Kano durbar stands out due to the sheer number of participants, tourists, spectators and days of celebrations.

This global recognition is a significant milestone, celebrating one of Nigeria’s most vibrant cultural festivals. Renowned for its majestic horse parades, traditional regalia, and music, the Kano Durbar reflects Northern Nigeria’s cultural pride and rich heritage. While the jubilations over this achievement are justified, it is essential to explore the opportunities and responsibilities that come with the UNESCO inscription.

 Beyond the celebrations, stakeholders must now prioritise preservation, promotion, and leveraging this global acknowledgement to foster tourism, break down stereotypes, and drive cultural and economic development in Kano and Northern Nigeria as a whole.

Kano—and Northern Nigeria as a whole—is a goldmine of culture and tradition preserved for ages, although these are currently under threat of extinction. The Dye Pits of Kofar Mata, founded in 1498 and spanning five centuries, are at risk of becoming extinct due to disrepair and unsustainable practices in recent times. The walled city of Kano is gradually disappearing to give way to commercial structures along the busy roads of Kano. There is a growing threat of climate change eroding sites like Dala Hills, Gidan Makama and others due to neglect. Sustainable protection and preservation of sites like this must be done for future generations.

This particular UNESCO inscription underscores the need to preserve the Kano Durbar for future generations through strategic documentation and archiving of the festival’s history, rites, and performances. High-quality visual content and written materials can help maintain its essence while creating accessible records for global audiences. This will effectively engage the youth, which is vital to ensure the tradition remains dynamic.

In addition, effective and efficient collaboration between the Kano Emirate council, non-governmental organisations (such as MACOBA, UNESCO, Global Shapers, etc.) and government agencies (NICO, Ministry of Arts and Culture, Tourism Development, etc.) is necessary to provide funding, technical support, and regulations that safeguard the festival’s cultural integrity.

In a state like Kano, boasting the highest population in the country and being the most populous in Northern Nigeria, the Kano Durbar has the potential to become a cornerstone of Nigeria’s cultural tourism, becoming a blueprint for other durbars across the region. To achieve this, a well-coordinated tourism strategy is essential. This could include partnering with airlines, hotels, and tour operators to create attractive travel packages for domestic and international tourists. Marketing campaigns highlighting the Durbar as a unique travel experience should be launched across social media platforms and international media outlets. Collaborations with influencers and travel bloggers can also amplify its appeal.

Furthermore, enhancing the visitor experience is key. Infrastructure around festival venues should be improved, with better roads, accommodations, and festival-specific amenities. Creating dedicated viewing platforms and cultural villages can also enrich the experience for attendees, making the Durbar more accessible and enjoyable.

Beyond cultural pride, the inscription opens doors for economic development. Investments in Durbar-themed merchandise, souvenirs, and artisanal crafts can generate revenue for local communities. E-commerce platforms can facilitate the sale of these items to a global audience.

Additionally, recognising the festival as an international heritage can attract global partnerships and funding for sustainable development initiatives in the region. Furthermore, technology offers endless possibilities to promote the Kano Durbar. Virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR) experiences can bring the Durbar to audiences unable to attend physically. Comprehensive online platforms can offer ticket sales, merchandise, and interactive content, ensuring year-round engagement with the festival. These digital initiatives can transform the Durbar from a localised event into a global cultural phenomenon.

Finally, the festival could serve as a hub for cultural exchange, inviting participants from other regions and countries to share their traditions and learn about the Durbar, fostering mutual respect and understanding. It could be so much more, with proper organisation and intention by the stakeholders involved.

The UNESCO inscription of the Kano Durbar is a momentous achievement that places the festival on the global stage. However, this recognition comes with responsibilities. By preserving its legacy, harnessing its tourism potential, and leveraging technology and cultural exchange, stakeholders can transform the Durbar into a beacon of Nigeria’s cultural excellence. Beyond the jubilations lies an opportunity to turn this acknowledgement into a catalyst for cultural pride, unity, and economic development. The time to act is now.

Salim Yunusa writes from Abuja, Nigeria and can be reached at syunusa@gmail.com.

Usmanu Danfodiyo University announces virtual symposium on Hausa culture, religion

By Sabiu Abdullahi 

The Vice Chancellor of Usmanu Danfodiyo University, Sokoto, Prof. L.S. Bilbis, has invited the general public to a virtual symposium titled “FINAFINAN HAUSA DA ZAMANTAKEWAR MAGIDANTA: INA AKA DOSA?”

The symposium, scheduled for July 10, 2024, at 10:00 AM West Central Africa time, will explore the intersection of Hausa culture and religion. 

Featuring in the event are Prof. A.M. Bunza, Prof. I.A. Malumfashi, Sheikh Aminu Ibrahim Daurawa, Ado Ahmad Gidan Dabino, and Dr. Hadiza Salihu Koko.

Prof. Abdallah Uba Adamu will chair the cultural event. 

The virtual symposium can be accessed via Zoom using the meeting ID: 619 7601 3625 and passcode: 632535. 

The university invites all interested individuals to join the virtual symposium and engage in the discussion on Hausa culture and religion. 

However, no further details on the specific topics or themes to be discussed have been provided.

Dear Muslim wife, you are not a liability

By Salihi Adamu Takai 

Women in the Hausa community shouldn’t remain as they were in the 90’s. They don’t have to be so conservative — refusing to delve into the reflection of the life of smartness. Islam has a lot for women, and in fact, they are mostly recognised more than men in different perspectives. So, women are expected to use the opportunity Islam gives them. 

Before Prophet Muhammad (SAW) married his first wife, Khadijah, she was a wealthy businesswoman who employed men to run some of her businesses. She was inspired by the Prophet’s trustworthiness when she hired him to lead the business, which made her propose to him for marriage. The Prophet married her. 

The Khadija’s adventure in her life of being a businesswoman and the first wife of the Prophet was a challenge to the Muslim women who think that marriage is only the means to become a liability. If the Prophet’s wife could be such a businesswoman in those days, the reason for dumping our women is very outrageous. 

This could also apply to paying the dowry for marriage. Islam makes brideprice the sine qua non of marriage and says it is the right of the wife, not her parents or guardians. It is the wife’s privilege to have capital in her matrimonial house. The dowry can help her run a business while living as the wife.

Almighty Allah decreed paying for a dowry in the Qur’an, Chapter 4, verse 4, in which He says: “Give women ˹you wed˺ their due dowries graciously. But if they waive some of it willingly, then you may enjoy it freely with a clear conscience.”

Thus, dowry could serve as a form of security for the wife to use in the marital home or even upon marriage breakdown. Therefore, if that’s the case, it would be better for women to use the money for business.

Women should stop feeling dependent on their marital homes. They must be innovative and collaborate with their husbands to improve their lives.

During the Prophet’s lifetime, it was reported that the wife of the Prophet’s companion used to help her husband with some work on his farm when he was sick to get what they could. Islam is concerned about the chastity of women, so women should dress decently.

Salihi Adamu Takai wrote via salihiadamu5555@gmail.com.

Adam A. Zango and matters arising in Kannywood

By Usman Abdullahi Koli, ANIPR

Adamu Abdullahi Zango, also known as Prince Zango, is a famous Kannywood figure. Adam has been acting in Hausa films for over 20 years. Zango is a multi-skilled individual who acts, sings, produces, and directs films while introducing new faces to the screens. However, despite his immense contributions, he has been a victim of accusations, controversies, and rumours, but they all turned out to be a bunch of false claims in the end. 

One of the major problems dragging the Hausa film industry back is enmity. No matter how talented an actor is, if he is not in the circle of those who consider themselves owners of the industry or if his stardom is at its peak, he is always regarded as worthless. An adage states that “united we stand, divided we fall.” The level of unity and support for one another in Kannywood is below expectations. 

Perhaps only in Kannywood do actors receive financial support when they come out crying in videos, exposing what they are going through. Such behaviour is contrary to other entertainment industries, where actors and actresses frequently check on colleagues and offer helping hands without disseminating the act on social media.   

Some years ago, in his philanthropic effort to give back to society, Zango promised to give out millions of Nairas to orphans in Kaduna. People from the industry and outside started saying he could only make promises without implementing them. This, among other factors, contributed immensely to the current reality Zango is facing in the industry. People don’t usually appreciate him or keep quiet about issues that affect him directly, turning his life into a topic of discussion every single time. 

Adam did not have the opportunity to attend higher education, but his zeal to actualise the ambitions of young people inspired him to sponsor a high number in Kaduna, Jos, and Kano States. The possession of assets, valuables, and material things by all those who work in WhiteHouse Family, an entertainment venture owned by Zango, is a testimony that he is full of kindness, selflessness, open-mindedness, and what he has never made him proud. 

What Zango is currently going through I don’t see it as depression, as claimed by many. There are people he wholeheartedly helped and trusted but turned against him. Additionally, he is facing a lot of trouble on social media from those who dislike him and are always fabricating lies about him. Yes, silence is not gold. He is supposed to speak up in his defence since no one is willing to stand up for him. The best one could do for the woman he loves is to marry and confide in her. What kills faster than a bullet is a betrayal from a life partner, and the bond of trust ends without a second thought. 

Many accused Zango of frequent marriages and serving his wives with hot breakfast (divorce) in short periods. As revealed by him, the truth of the matter is that most times, the failure of wives to be submissive, respectful, and faithful is glorified by our religion. Zango has been hiding the facts about what led him to divorce his wives from public space, but the ranting from near and far is unbecoming and unbearable. He has decided to let the hen out of the cage. Keeping some issues hidden is better, as exposing them is like adding salt to an injury. 

Furthermore, most of the films produced by Zango were created by local writers, not copies of Bollywood or Hollywood stories. The movie contributed to portraying real Hausa norms and values, cultures and traditions, dressings and foods, shelters and festivals while maintaining the religious injunctions. The languages used are authentic Hausa, along withidioms, styles, and proverbs, making it easier for children to learn. 

Despite dressing in Western attire in some movies, Zango still maintains the moral compass of Hausa and Islam. Factually, nobody can boldly point out where Adam is seen in a fantasy scene with women in films. Other characters have done worse than Zango in movies and feel that doing so is normal, without minding the repercussions on their families or people who took them as role models. By the way, who is morally upright in Kannywood? 

In summary, I have been an advocate for Kannywood, as I have written about misunderstandings between Rarara and former Governor Ganduje and the decision of MOPPAN to dismiss Rahama Sadau, among other topics in the Hausa entertainment industry. It should be noted that stakeholders and characters in Kannywood should see themselves as one family because commendation to one affects the rest and vice versa. People need to reciprocate kindness with kindness. Fans and mentees of artists should learn to respect each other by supporting themselves and resolving issues through dialogue. 

Adam Zango needs to control himself, especially in moments of anger, and stop making decisions at those times. He has faced worse situations before and stood firm. He can do it again. Let him consult relatives and trusted friends before taking any bold steps in his life. Finally, as a celebrity and a mirror to a limitless number of people, Adam Zango should ignore the negative comments, criticisms, and disrespectful and abusive words of followers on social media platforms. If he gives them no time to reply, they will have no choice but to stop. 

Kannywood has never had a gifted actor like Adam Zango in its history. He should cherish his God-given talent, be more focused and optimistic, and keep pouring out the best in him in both acting and music. Anything related to his personal life should be private, as antagonists always look for weak points or where he does wrong to attack him. He should remember that he is a son, father, and someone others admire. His words and actions, whether good or bad, would be replicated by them. 

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com.

Salute to a Woman of Substance: Hajiya (Dr) Hafsatu AbdulWaheed, D.Litt., Honoris causa

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

She has done it again. She first did it in 1974/80. In 2024, she repeated it. The feat that no female northern Nigerian has ever performed. Hajiya Hafsatu Abdul Waheed (b. 1952, Kano, northern Nigeria) was the first woman creative fiction writer from northern Nigeria to be published in any language, although hers was in Hausa.

On 13th April 2024, she became the first female Muslim northern Nigerian to be honoured with D.Litt. (Honoris Causa “for the sake of the honour”) doctorate degree from a no less institution than the biggest online university in Africa, the National Open University of Nigeria (NOUN). This was at the 13th Convocation Ceremony of the university held on 13th April 2024 in Abuja, the main headquarters of the university.

In a way, Ms. AbdulWaheed represents a paradox. She is not Hausa or Hausa-Fulani. She is Fulani, pure and simple. She learnt Hausa only outside her family home, in school, but at home, it was Fulfulde all the way. Yet her creative writing has always been in Hausa, with the exception of one book of poetry in English and the recently published collection of short stories titled Sharo. Nothing in Fulfulde, though.

The common historical narrative on literary development in northern Nigeria was that a literary competition to encourage the reading culture among Hausa youth was organized by the Northern Nigerian Publishing Corporation (NNPC) in 1978. One of the entries, which was also one of the winners, was “So Aljannar Duniya” by Hafsatu Abdul Waheed. It was in the Hausa language. However, it would appear, according to Hafsatu herself, that she wrote the novel in 1972, and it was published in 1974.

It was, quite simply, the most radical novel in Hausa literary history. Even “Ƙarshen Alewa Ƙasa” by Bature Gagare (who died in 2002), an unconventional novel, , published in 1982 (as a result of a literary competition organized by the then Federal Department of Culture, Ministry of Social Welfare and Culture) did not come close. Curiously, they contrasted each other. Gagare’s novel is about the lost glory of the ‘original’ Hausa people—the Maguzawa. Hafsatu’s novel is about breaking the Pulaaku—the Fulani code of behaviour. Both Hafsatu and Gagare became spokespersons of their ethnicities.

So Aljannar Duniya is brash, bold, audacious, trenchant, and unapologetic. It is a declaration of war against Pulaaku. It was unarguably the first Fulani feminist tract written in Hausa. Hafsatu’s style and critique of tradition might be compared with those of Bilkisu Salisu Ahmed Funtuwa and Balaraba Ramat Yakubu. However, there are quite a few differences.

Despite its pioneering boldness, So Aljannar Duniya is difficult to read. Perhaps that was because the author started writing it while still in secondary school! Its narrative is often jumbled and non-linear. Understandable. It was written in anger, so words tend to wobble, but the message is clear. This is more so because it is ethnographic. Hafsatu wove a story around her sister, of course, a Fulani, who had every intention of marrying an ‘alien’—an Arab from Libya. So Aljannar Duniya is, therefore, a true story, spiced up by fictional elements to convey a message. As I said before, it is a feminist tract.

Balaraba Rama Yakubu, however, writes in a deeply engaging mature and absorptive style with plenty of hooks. For instance, “Wa Zai Auri Jahila?”, which I consider her best novel, is dark and deeply disturbing narrative of what in contemporary feminist Woke world would be considered an injustice to women, especially young girls in a traditional African society.

Although Novian Whitsitt, who did his PhD on Balaraba’s novels, referred to it as ‘feminist’ I disagreed with him. I labelled her works ‘womanist’, after Alice Walker’s short story, ‘Coming Apart’ (1979). As explained elsewhere, “a womanist is committed to the survival of both males and females and desires a world where men and women can coexist while maintaining their cultural distinctiveness.” This inclusion of men provides women with an opportunity to address gender oppression without directly attacking men (Adamu 2003). Balaraba reflects this in her novels, especially “Alhaki Kwikuyo” (translated by Aliyu Kamal and published by Blaft Books in India). Can’t say much about Bilkisu Funtuwa’s books, though, as I have never read any.

But Hafsatu AbdulWaheed is a feminist—at least as portrayed in So Aljannar Duniya. The plot revolves around a young Fulani lady who wants to marry an ‘alien’ (Arab) from Libya. In real life, Hafsatu’s elder sister. Their parents rejected the idea. The plot of the novel does away with the Fulani Pulaaku and introduces a brash, assertive, loud and anti-establishment heroine, Boɗaɗo, who, armed with a degree in Pharmaceutical Sciences, comes back to her village to set up a drug store (called Chemists in Nigeria, a bit like Walgreens) and introduces her fiancé—all un-lady like behaviours in the Fulani mindset.

Thus, she discards the Fulani munyal (self-control), semteende (modesty) and hakkillo (wisdom)—central components of Pulaaku—and declares, openly, her love for an “alien” in her auntie’s presence! The opening dialogue from the novel sets the pace in which Boɗaɗo, speaking, informs her aunt:

(Hau) Aure! Inna ni fa na gaya muku ba zan auri kowa ba sai wanda nake so. Kun san zamani ya sake.

(trans) Marriage! Aunty, I have told you that I will only marry the man I love. You know times have changed.

Such direct confrontation in a Fulani village was uncommon and reflects the author’s autobiographical rebellion against tradition. Her aunt—delegated to mediate in these matters on behalf of the protagonist’s mother—is shocked. As she lamented:

(Hau) Mhm! Wannan zamani, Allah Ya saukaka. Yarinya ki zauna kina zancen auren ki, sai ka ce hirar nono da mai. Don haka fa ba ma son sa ɗiyar mu makarantar boko. In kun yi karatu sai ku ce kun fi kowa. Me kuka ɗauke mu ne?

(trans) Mhm. These are difficult times. May Allah save us. Listen to you talk about your marriage as if you are talking about milk and butter. That is why we don’t want to send our daughters to school. After you finish, you feel superior to everyone. What do you take us for?

A battleground and the rules of engagement have been established—female empowerment through education—and Hafsatu chose the most conservative arena: a Fulani settlement, considered generally more trenchant about Pulaaku than urban Fulani. Additionally, the novel’s subtext of rebellion against arranged and forced marriage underscores Hafsatu’s acerbic demand for personal choice in marital affairs by women. It was a template for rebellion.

Another contrast between Hafsatu’s So Aljannar Duniya and Balaraba’s Wai Zai Auri Jahila? is in the choice of careers. Hafsatu chose Pharmacy for her protagonist, while Balaraba made her own a nurse. Pharmacy was a profession in the period, and by making her character a pharmacist, she thrusts Boɗaɗo into a man’s world to compete equally with men. Balaraba, on the other hand, by making her character a nurse instead of a doctor, maintains the womanist ethos of an achieving woman in a male-dominated society, fitting in with career stereotypes of women in caring professions.

The success of So Aljannar Duniya sent a message to the budding Hausa literati to pick up their pens and set to work—thus spawning a genre which t revolutionized the Hausa literary landscape in contemporary times.. Furthermore, the combined effects of the harsh economic realities of the 1980s (the decade of military coups and counter-coups in Nigeria) ensured reduced parental responsibility in the martial affairs of their children. Therefore, fantasy, media parenting, especially Hindi films, anti-authority and a loud, persistent message from bursting testosterones in a conservative society that sees strict gender separation combined to present Hausa youth with soyayya (romance) as the central template for creative fiction. It was a safety valve to repressed sexuality.

Hafsatu’s radicalism, however, did not end at rebellion against arranged or forced marriage for women. At one stage she declared to run for the office of the Governor of Zamfara State. This was provoked by a statement by the sitting governor that there were no educated women in the state. To prove him wrong, she decided to campaign for his chair! She even made posters, but was asked by her father to stop. At least, she had made a statement. Furthermore, her real-life echoes Boɗaɗo’s—she was also married to an ‘alien’ from the Middle East (a Syrian). Incidentally, it was a marriage that took her to Gusau, the Zamfara State capital, and I had the pleasure of meeting her late husband, Malam Ahmad Abdul Waheed, during a British Council “Intensities in Ten Cities” Islamophobia tour on 9th July 2003. Both Hafsatu and her husband were born and raised in Kano. It was his career that took them to Gusau.

In literary circles, she also has a voice. For one, she used to assiduously attend every single literary convention anywhere it was held. As part of ANA Kano activities, we were together in Niamey and Maraɗi in Niger Republic at various times to attend international conventions of Hausa writers. She never tired of attending and actively participating. Wonderful enough, she often went with her children and grandchildren, showing them the way. It is little wonder that some of these children became well-celebrated in their chosen professions—for they had a strong role model at home. A good example is her eldest daughter, Kadaria Ahmad, the award-winning journalist who owns and runs the NOW FM radio station in Lagos.

Thus, the recognition of the pioneering efforts of Hafsatu AbdulWaheed by the National Open University of Nigeria (NOUN) on 13th April 2024 during the university’s 13th Convocation was a salute not only to the resilience of feminist women but also to all Hausa language writers of both genders. As far as I know, she was the first female Muslim Fulani (or Hausa) writer to be so honoured by any university in Nigeria. She has, therefore, entered the history books. She is truly a woman of substance.

References.

Adamu, Abdalla Uba. “Parallel Worlds: Reflective Womanism in Balaraba Ramat Yakubu’s Ina Son Sa Haka.” JENDA: A Journal of Culture and African Women Studies, no. 4 (2003). https://bit.ly/3Q2gNlY.

Whitsitt, Novian. Kano Market Literature and the Construction of Hausa-Islamic Feminism A Contrast in Feminist Perspectives of Balaraba Ramat Yakubu and Bilkisu Ahmed Funtuwa. PhD dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 2000.

Tips for women on balancing kitchen duties and worship during Ramadan

By Aisha Musa Auyo

I know this is coming in late, but better late than never, huh? Ramadan is a sacred month that is supposed to be dedicated to fasting, Quranic recitation, prayers, sadaqah, etc. But part of that ibadah comes with a lot of cooking and eating.

Ramadan is synonymous with a delicious variety of dishes—a paradox, right? That’s why many media stations and content creators dedicate time, energy, and resources to Ramadan dishes and treats.

Women are more often on the receiving end of this cooking duty during Ramadan. This has been the tradition since time immemorial, so we cannot change it, but we can create ways that will help us adapt, manage, and not be overwhelmed by it. We can make it beneficial and more rewarding.

First and foremost, cook with the intention of getting rewarded, not to impress your man, the family, or his friends. That gender may not even say thank you, sannu da aiki, abincin yayi dadi, or even Allah Ya miki albarka. But if your intention is to get rewarded by Allah, you are sure to have that reward. Innamal a’amaalu binniyati.

Know that whoever feeds a fasting person receives an immense reward. The Prophet (PBUH) said, “He who feeds a fasting person will have a reward like that of the fasting person, without any reduction in his reward.” (Tirmidhi) This applies to the one who buys the food as well as the one who cooks the food.

When it comes to tafsir, Ramadan lectures, and the like, technology has made things easier for us. You can listen to live or recorded programs on your phone, wherever you are in the world, while you’re cooking or cleaning. You can listen to Quranic recitation too; you can do lots of dhikr and istighfar while doing most chores. Try not to miss out on this.

If you have the means, give out sadaqah in cash and in kind, especially food and water. That will fetch you an immense reward. In the end, it’s the reward we are aiming for, so the end justifies the means.

If you are fortunate enough to have electricity, you can devote your weekends to making pepper soups, stews, and juices. Then, freeze them, which will make cooking easier for the rest of the week. Also, make use of food processors and other appliances that will simplify your work.

Make use of processed foods as much as you can afford. For example, if you want to make tiger nut drink, buy tiger nut powder from Auyo’s Cuisines. This will make your work faster and easier, and you will have the energy for Tarawih. Other processed foods that are much needed for Ramadan are ground peppers, ground kuli, masa premix, and garin kunu, all of which are available and affordable at Auyo’s Cuisines.

Making a weekly food timetable ahead of time helps a lot. Thinking about what to cook is very draining; knowing what to cook is like finishing half the work.

Seek help; don’t try to do everything yourself. Engage the kids and hire someone to help you, even if it’s just for the month. Going to the market will drain you and waste your time; find someone to help you with that from time to time.

You see that Zirkr our Prophet gave his daughter when she asked for servants, Subhanallah, walhamdulillah, and wallWallahar, don’t joke with it before you sleep, you need it now, more than ever.

Try to hydrate a lot during the non-fasting hours. Don’t be too exhausted to eat; you need health and energy more than anyone.

As much as you can, avoid social media, movies, useless chit-chats, and worldly distractions. You will have ample time for that after Ramadan. This month is sacred and only comes once a year. The Prophet said, “Verily, Gabriel came to me and he said: Whoever reaches the month of Ramadan and he is not forgiven, then he will enter Hellfire and Allah will cast him far away,”.

The Prophet peace be upon him also said, that a loser is the one who witnessed Ramadan and didn’t earn Allah’s pardon. A loser is one who’s despaired of Allah’s mercy. A loser lets time pass by procrastinating good deeds. A loser is the one who loses the reward of his fasting to mere hunger and thirst.

My fellow women, try to be on your best behavior this month. Try not to be a loser. As a woman, know that you will sleep less than anyone else in the house, but it’s okay; that’s your part of the sacrifice. Men go out to work too; some men work under the scorching sun. Some men’s work involves hard labor, harder than what you do at home. Some men, even though they work under AC, have pressures and issues they need to solve, which is also very difficult and draining.

Over to you, my brother. If you can afford it, please get some domestic help for your wife. She needs it, especially this month. If not someone who will help in the kitchen, find someone who will help with the shopping and outdoor activities.

If you want to bring people for iftar, do so in moderation. She is only human with two hands.

If you want to feed many people, employ ‘Mai kosai da kunu’ for that project. Many people need the job and the extra money that comes with it. Allow your wife to handle the family’s iftar. Allah Ya biya ka da aljanna.

Bro, I know you’re working hard to provide, but a kind word, a prayer, a gift (in cash or in kind) will make your woman feel appreciated and loved. It won’t kill you.

My fellow women, know that all this work you are doing might not be possible if your man were not providing the food and resources. Appreciate him, encourage him, and respect him. You are not the only one working hard.

But if you are the woman of the house and also the one providing for the household, know that only Allah SWT can help and reward you. I cannot explain or tell you how to manage your time, but I know you are incredible, and in sha Allah, you will enjoy the fruits of your labor, here and in the hereafter.

If you are a son or daughter still living with your parents, know that you also have roles to play. These roles can range from helping with meal preparation and cleaning to running errands and greeting your parents when they return home from work. Praying for your parents is also an important act of worship.

If you are earning money, buy fruits, vegetables, or gifts for your parents and siblings.

Guy, before you shamelessly take a Ramadan basket or kayan sallah to your girlfriend, who may not even marry you, do so for your parents first. It will be more rewarding for you.

Girl, before you shamelessly invite that stingy boyfriend of yours for iftar with your parents’ cefane, make sure you are always helping out with the cooking and cleaning; it will be more rewarding for you. Don’t be a lazy girl and then an active one when your guy is coming for iftar.

Dear couples, as much as I know you are tired, don’t ignore za oza room ibada during this month. It is very rewarding, it enhances mood and offers benefits for physical and psychological health including lowering stress, improving sleep, and boosting immune function.

Experts say the hour before suhoor is the best during Ramadan. By then, couples are well-rested, and they will be waking up for suhoor anyway.

Let me stop here. May Allah accept our ibadah. May He give us the health and wealth to perform this ibadah to the best of our abilities. May Allah make us among the servants who will be freed at the end of this month. May He forgive our shortcomings, and may all our prayers and wishes be granted. May we witness many more Ramadans in good health and wealth.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a Doctoral researcher in Educational Psychology, a wife, and a mother of three. She is a homemaker, caterer, and parenting/relationship coach.

Impact of communication skills on our daily interactions

By Abubakar Aminu Ibrahim

Communication is vital to human interaction, influencing relationships, emotions, and outcomes. In all languages, the impact of communication skills is profound, especially in expressions of greetings, well-wishing, congratulations, condolences, and the like. While these expressions are often used to convey positive intentions and goodwill, how they are communicated can significantly affect the recipient’s feelings and perceptions.

In Hausa culture, for example, greetings are essential to daily interactions, reflecting respect, courtesy, and social harmony. Appropriations of greetings demonstrate politeness and establish a positive tone for communication. However, the impact of greetings goes beyond mere words; it encompasses the tone of voice, body language, and facial expressions. A warm and sincere greeting can make the recipient feel valued and respected, while a cold or indifferent greeting may convey disinterest or disrespect, leading to negative feelings.

Well-wishing is another crucial aspect of communication in our daily encounters, especially in the context of prayers for someone’s well-being or success. This is something that seems cordial yet can be volatile. Whether it is praying for someone to have a child, to get rid of poverty, or to find a job, how these wishes are expressed matters significantly. The spot where such utterances are made can make or mar the situation.

For example, when offering prayers for someone to have a child, it is quite unnecessary to say it to their face. It is often like reminding them and telling those around them how childless they are! Then, is it really necessary? Prayers can be both general or precise, thanks to the fact that Allah is always aware of our inner intentions. Thus, such prayers can be positively concealed in a more general term. “May Allah offer your wishes”, “May Allah reward you with Jannah/bless your family”, etc., cannot harm, I guess.

A similar reproach is often experienced when offering consolations. The manner, tone and words used can reflect civility and ensure privacy yet remain empathetic, hopeful, and positive. A well-expressed prayer can uplift the recipient’s spirits and strengthen their resolve. In contrast, a poorly articulated wish may appear insincere or lacking in empathy, potentially causing emotional distress. Consider a situation where an ill person (who needs support and encouragement) is constantly being told how he is wasting weight! Is that consoling or condemning? Instead of extending the tender support required, we often extend emotional pain and wash away the little drops of hope in the patient.

Similarly, congratulations are often extended to celebrate achievements or milestones in a person’s life. Whether congratulating someone on a promotion, a wedding, or any other accomplishment, the manner of expression can enhance or diminish the recipient’s joy. A heartfelt congratulatory message conveys genuine happiness and support, whereas a superficial or casual expression may undermine the significance of the achievement, leading to feelings of disappointment or devaluation.

In conclusion, the impact of communication skills is profound, especially in expressions of greetings, well-wishing, congratulations, condolences, and their likes. How these expressions are communicated can significantly affect the recipient’s feelings and perceptions, shaping the quality of interpersonal relationships. Without diplomacy and sensitivity in communication, even well-intentioned expressions can have unintended negative consequences. Therefore, it is essential to cultivate effective communication skills to convey goodwill and ensure that our words and actions do not inadvertently cause harm. Without diplomacy, we may do more harm than good despite our noble intentions.

Abubakar Aminu Ibrahim wrote from Katsina via matazu247@gmail.com.

Lost Heritage Series: Furakenstein Monster and the Rufaidahization of Tradition

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

Birnin Kudu. The 1960s. An incredibly wonderful town. Still a wonderful town! Even more, wonderful, friendly people. So far away from Kano that a whole limerick was composed to warn of its distance ‘Birnin Kudu da nisa take / ɗa ya ɓata bare jika /.

For me, the town evokes memories of wonderful summer months spent there in my auntie’s house in ‘Gangare’ quarters, literally, a sloppy part of the town located in a depression. Years later, they filled the depression on the main road, making it easier for motorists to travel through the town easily. The mountain range has a wonderful greenback during the rainy season. The range stretches as far as the eyes can see, providing a wonderful wallpaper for the students in the secondary school (BKSS) at the foot of the mountain.

Memories of her earthen water storage pot (randa) with jema-scented grass floating in to give the water a cool, pleasant scented taste. The mere presence of the jema grass also scented the room. Then there is the river, about two kilometres away from her house. More like a brook than a river, the clear water flowing over the underlying rock bed was a wonderful sight for a city boy. I used to spend hours just watching the water bubbling gently under the bridge towards an unknown destination and trying to read my African Film (Lance Spearman) pictorial novels

And the rocks that littered the town – dark, broody, holding centuries of secrets. Massive rocks – you can see them from the atrium of her house. It became a pleasure to sleep in the open atrium, the night sky framed with those slabs. The rock paintings enhanced the appeal of the town discovered a decade earlier, in the 1950s. Conferring on the town an ancient status – and they had evidence of a 2,000-year human artistic activity.

However, the best memory was the kindirmo (yoghourt) market, right by the roadside near the entrance to the market. Sold by the stereotypical Fulani milkmaids. Kindirmo is so thick that it breaks up like ice floes on a frozen river when you hit the skin film on top of the large calabash holding it. Kindirmo is so sweet that it harks back at an ancestral memory of existence. Pure. Natural.

My old aunt was an artist and adept at churning up the thick kindirmo with equally massive balls of fura. Using a ludayi (ladle) carved from a gourd plant, she was adept at blending the fura right into the kindirmo floes in a calabash. The end product was a supremely nourishing, rich, tasty meal of classic fura – containing all the ingredients needed to nourish the body. Absolutely no sugar is needed or even desired. As you slurp it, you are often lucky to come across an unblended fura – gaya. Taken in a calabash container with ludayi. The ecstasy can only be imagined.

Sold with the kindirmo was fresh butter. Aunt used to fry the butter into a ghee. Pour a spoonful into any meal – ecstasy reloaded! Evoked Hassan Wayam’s verse:

Ga fura ta mai nono /

Tuwo na mai nama /

Years passed by, and my childhood memories of Birnin Kudu were kept in storage in my mind. Whenever I passed by the town – my aunt had left the place in mid-1980s when her husband passed on – and crossed the bridge, the memories came flashing by. Of the only friend I made, a Yusha’u, whom I cannot trace.

The daily grind made it difficult to re-create the culinary pleasures of my aunt’s fura. Further, I was too occupied with other things. One day, the urge came back after my return from studies. The question was, where would one get a fura meal? I was told it has now become a franchised business, and right opposite the block of flats I was staying in, Zoo Road, was what I called ‘Fura Café’ run in a kiosk. I dashed up there for a treat.

I was shocked. First, the fura balls were tiny. Like a baby’s fist. And white – not enough millet, obviously. Then, horror of horrors, he dropped three of them into a BLENDER! Would you believe it? A BLENDER! That’s the machine I saw my wife using to grind those ingredients used in making a soup! The worst was yet to come.

Next, he poured WATER into the blender. I could not stand it any longer, and I stopped him, asking for the kindirmo. ‘That was it. I just poured it into the blender,’ he saucily replied. Nothing like kindirmo – more like ‘tsala’ – watered down milk. He pressed buttons. Everything churned and chugged in the blender cup. He stopped, removed the cup, and then poured the lot into a PLASTIC cup – more like moɗa! I was speechless throughout this charade. I decided to see it through.

I asked for the ludayi. He gave me a look that clearly indicated he had never heard the word and passed on a PLASTIC spoon – y’know, the kind that comes with a cheap rice takeaway. I paid, took the cup, and had a sip. It was horrible. Sour. No pleasant flavour (garɗi) of a true kindirmo. Seeing the expression on my face, he offered cubes of sugar. I passed. I handed the entire sludge to him and left. That was the end of my first attempt at rekindling a memory.

Years later, after a five-year absence from Kano, I came back to see modernised Fura Cafes all over – Habib, Yusrah and the new kid on the block – Rufaidah. I was told some, e.g., Habib, had been around for a long time. Knowing I might regret it, decided to relive Birnin Kudu again. So, I popped into Rufaidah for a treat. Better than the horrid kiosk I had been to before. I was attracted by the post-modernist décor. Like the airport in Dubai.

Ahaf! The same Furakenstein monster was there. A blender, watery milk, lots of sugar, tiny chunks of unblended greyish fura, and a ‘dambu’ – moistly powdered fura as a spare. All are neatly packaged in a pretty container. It’s not as bad as what I had before, but it’s still a Furakenstein monster. Seems the Rufaidah Fura Café is the ultimate in the fura business. I am happy for them and impressed by their franchise. But for old codgers like me, even at our Fresh Young Dattijo (FYD) phase? Thanks, but no thanks. I can’t stand the monster – Furakenstein – that is the modern blender-churned fura, no matter how ‘ultra-modern’ their café is. Young people who throng the place, happily taking selfies, have no idea what they have missed in the generational journey.

Fura, as a meal, should be churned in massive chunks of kindirmo floes, the likes of which I am pretty sure can only be found in Birnin Kudu, Bulkachuwa and Danbatta. With huge dark grey fura balls providing high millet content. Spicy fura. Thick floes of yoghurt. No sugar. Not because you are on a health kick, but because it is almost a sacrilege to put sugar in such yoghourt.

So, to celebrate this culinary purity, I am sharing the third painting in my office of classic Fura da Nono and fresh butter lost heritage scene painted on a medium canvas by the brilliant Bashir Abbas of Kano Polytechnic. It reminds me of the idyllic, peaceful and wonderful Birnin Kudu, with its rolling hills, tema grass (still available?), and the now drying river.

Transition of Tashe

By Sumayya I. Ja’eh

Chorus/children: ‘Ka yi rawa kai mallam ka yi rawa.’

You’ve danced, oh! Mallam, you’ve danced

Mallam: ‘Ban yi ba’,

I didn’t

Chorus: ‘tsoho mai gemun banza.’

Old man with a useless beard

The call-and-response dialogue, accompanied by the beating of a drum, propped open my six-year-old eyes in my grandfather’s compound in a village in Katsina. It was one of those fuzzy moments when you wake up and don’t know where you are for a minute. I had slept off in the car, only to find myself in a dim room lit by a kerosene lamp. There was no electricity, and the young moon illuminated the compound. The young boys that woke me were beating a locally made drum from tins, nylon, and sticks. They looked like characters from the famous tale by moonlight series produced and aired by the national television station NTA, which I was obsessed with then. The main character, Mallam, had a costume: a babban riga, an old cap placed haphazardly, a white beard, attained by putting white cotton on a boy’s face, and his mimicry of an old Mallam thrilled me. It made me and their audience laugh. That was my first conscious experience of Tashe and one of the reasons I look forward to spending my fasting period with my grandparents in Katsina or Kaduna.

Tashe is an old-age traditional mimetic performance performed by children between 6 to 14. It is an annual cultural performance that takes place in the 9th month of the Islamic calendar and is performed in the early hours of the morning or the evening before the pre-dawn meal or after the break of the fast. Tashe is a short play that challenges a social issue, accompanied by songs, dance, and mimicry.

Tashe can be traced as far back as the contact of the Hausawa with Islam. The word is derived from ‘tashi’, a Hausa word for wake up. Muslims are expected during the month of Ramadan (9th) of the Islamic calendar to fast, and they are highly recommended to take the pre-dawn meal. So, some people feel the need to wake others up for Sahur, to replenish their empty stomachs and energy to see them through the rigours of the day’s work without much difficulty. So, a few community members took it upon themselves to wake people, to prepare and eat just before dawn. To lighten the frustration of struggling to keep awake with no alarms, these volunteers enact the games named wasannin Tashe. While the adults prepare the meals, children with nothing to do occupy themselves with games to help while away time. Another factor is the essence of Tashe, which is aimed at luring people away from un-Islamic leisure pastimes since the beginning of Ramadan.

Tashe is performed mainly by young children, who imitate adults. It is often satirical and full of humour but laden with moral lessons and socio-religious ethics of the Hausa community. Tashe is usually passed down orally from generation to generation. The characters fill the roles with costumes, makeup, and dialogues in call-and-response songs. It is social criticism and a mirror/lens to view the socio-religious ways of life in most Hausa communities.

The Almajirai also are volunteers that perform Tashe. The Almajiri’s source for their food, move from house to house, seeking food or alms. During Ramadan, the Almajiri sing a dirge in the late night hours, songs calling out to anyone with an extra plate to give them. Some musicians and drummers, along with young children, also began to imitate the activities engaged in by the adults. In time, these plays shifted to the early hours of the night. They sing, dance, dialogue, improvise and wear costumes. It is a comedy, but like all comedy, it is the presentation of serious matters in unserious ways.

One striking characteristic of Tashe is its didacticism; it doesn’t only entertain but emphasizes the Hausa cultural belief and tradition—Tashe projects social ethics. Therefore, many performances aim to ridicule those who deviate from correct social norms merrily.

One well-known Tashe passed down from generation to generation is that of naci na kasa tashi, meaning‘I’m so full, I can’t stand.” One of the young boys dressed as an older man puts cotton on his chin that looks like a beard and puts on some clothes to show his protruding stomach. When they are ready, they go from house to house. The lead character sings, and the other children chorus/reply.

Baba: na ci na kasa tashi!

Children: Baba zare gareka!

Baba: Tuwon da dadi yake!

Children: Baba zare gare ka!

Baba: kuma har da nama!

The above can be roughly translated as ‘I’m so full, I can’t stand’, and the children reply with ‘Baba, you’re greedy,’ while the Baba tries to justify his gluttony by saying the tuwo is sweet and there is meat.

For instance, Ga Mariama Ga Daudu, another Tashe, gives us a socio-historic glimpse of the Hausa laden with humour. It is a mimetic performance of the communal responsibilities/expectation of husband and wife, the type of staple food eaten by Hausas. Although a comic, the play is social criticism of the institute of marriage, which several people from both genders are desecrating. Girls stage the play. One of the girls puts on a costume, a long kaftan and a beard and tries to deepen her voice to sound like a man. It is a telltale that enlightens young women about what society expects from a married woman.

Due to the Hausa tradition that does not allow the two genders to mix freely, the girls and boys don’t mix to perform Tashe. Instead, each gender play switches roles with its unique performance type.

A very well-known Tashe is of Gwauro. It is a mime that consists of 5/6 boys. One of them is dressed in nothing but bante (a short nicker) Hausa traditional pants, a rope tied to his waist, a bundle of clothes with kitchen utensils like used tins, old, discarded radio, an old dirty kettle can be found in the bundle carried by the main character. The others hold on to the rope while the lead character tries to run and is being pulled by the rope, while they sing ‘gwauro gwaurogwauro nuna mana yadda kake tsanawa’? Gwauro can be translated to as Divorcee or an old bachelor. ‘Show us how you cook?’ He goes on to put a tin can, wedged it between two stones, and mimics blowing air into the woods.

This is aimed at ridiculing the bachelor, and lessons deducted from this drama border on the irresponsible nature of the bachelor for trying to play the role of a woman, who in most Hausa communities is the one who cooks. Tying the rope around the waist of the lead actor is symbolic. The rope restraining the bachelor also portrays the image of someone in bondage. This shows that in Hausa society, marriage is given such importance that the bachelor/divorcee is considered a lesser being than the other community members.

One Tashe that has gone viral and is available on YouTube is the 2021 Ramadan Tashe ridiculing the state governor of Kano, who asked for 15 billion naira to tackle the issue of Covid 19, as well as a scandal video of him collecting kickback. The short clip shows a boy lying on the floor with a babban riga (an overflowing gown), a red cap, and a white beard. His friends, the crew call out, ‘Ganduje tashi,’ ‘Ganduje stand up,’ to which he replies, ‘sai an ba ni dollar Corona’ ‘not until I am giving dollars to fight Corona.’ The clip is a short comedy skit that not only cracks people up but also has an undertone that challenges corruption by government officials.

Though Tashe is basically performed to provide merriment, the reverse may occur. Sometimes, Tashe meant to ridicule certain personalities, which may not be acceptable to the person concerned. Here the object of ridicule will not find the performance funny, and it is pretty common to see the performers running helter-skelter, being chased by the target of the performance. At other times, the performance itself may be acceptable, but the attitude of the performers may be irritating to the target audience. To cap it up, these performers would taunt any house owner who refused to donate anything. Upon exiting, the actor would often sing, “mun taka tutu, maigidan nan ya yi shi.” “We have stepped on a heap of shit; the owner of this house must have excreted it”.  

Tashe emphasizes communal performance. My grandparents or parents always give out some loose change to the performers. This is the norm that the adults expected to give alms to the performers. These donations can be money or food items, primarily grains like millet and sorghum, the staple foods in any Hausa community. There is no fixed amount for alms, but donation largely depends on the social and financial status of the audience, as well as the extent of enjoyment of a performance.

The audience, primarily adults, also participates by correcting any misrepresentation in the texts, disguise, or dramatization. With globalization and urbanization happening worldwide, Tashe, as I used to know it, is fast becoming a relic of the past. The face of Tashe has evolved in urban cities. Few children or Almajirai go from house to house, entertaining people while seeking alms.

This long-old tradition of performance entertains and highlights the life of the Hausa folks and brings the fore societal expectation of a man/woman in Hausa society. Although it is a series of plays that comes only once a year as entertainment, it is full of dramatic content that reflects contemporary events. This mimetic performance encompasses most characteristics of a drama; costume, dialogue, improvisation, storyline, and purpose. These earliest Tashe performances are the precursor of modern Hausa drama.

Tashe tries to divert the community’s attention from the economic and political predicament. Tashe, like Macukule, which explores the Hausa stereotype of the Gwari man, is still dominant in contemporary Hausa movies. A renowned character Dan Gwari is not new to anyone familiar with Hausa movies.

Today, if you google Tashe on YouTube, a few children and young adults pop up on your white screen. The TV channel, Arewa24, created a short series of Tashe that they stream. While this is another means of preserving this long tradition, the thrill and euphoria experienced by the audience are reduced by the limited screen. Unfortunately, my children would most likely never experience this long communal tradition of Tashe as I did.

Sumayya I. Ja’eh wrote from Abuja via sumyjaeh@gmail.com.

Let’s promote our culture

By Usama Abdullahi

It’s challenging that we are found wanting in our own culture. We don’t promote it simply because we don’t want to be looked down upon or mocked about it. Western culture has now substituted ours. We assimilate and worship anything western. Ironically, the West doesn’t force their culture on us; we rather westernise ourselves. 

Sometime in 2013, my uncle bought us pizzas. I used to see pizza as the best dish ever, but I was nauseous when I took my first bit. Being in the company of my cousins, I had to conceal my bitter feelings and fake some smiles to fit in. I was pretty low that day. 

For me, pizza is supremely overrated and not as delicious as I thought; it’s aromatic, though. Mind you, I’m not condemning the Italian dish in its entirety. But why do I bring this to light? I felt like sharing my experience, and I want my people to understand that not everything foreign is delectable.

As people with beautiful cultures, we have crazy good dishes that can excite and quench so many aliens’ appetites. Yet, we don’t promote that. We fault it instead. I have watched several western TV shows where the westerners expressed their liking for African culture, particularly their foods.

Arguably, most Nigerians tend to shun and dislike their culture because, to them, it’s worthless. The preference for western dishes leads to the decay of our cultural dishes. Sadly enough, most of the dishes are given western names, which has become difficult to catch on to. Those names don’t correspond and are mostly corrupt versions of the western ones.

Some of us, the so-called civilised ones, erroneously claim that most of our foods are detrimental to one’s health. Though I’m not medical personnel, the little I know tells me that foods like Tuwo provide the body with energy. Awara/Kosai, the most-avoided dishes by the corps d’elite, help build and repair tissues because they are “proteinaceous”. My claims are open to criticism because they are perhaps not well-grounded.

There are others too, which I guess could be harmless and good for consumption if thoroughly examined. It’s time we stopped self-hating or ridiculing ourselves merely because we want to look or sound different, say like the western. Until we promote our culture, our culture will go extinct someday.

Usama Abdullahi wrote from Abuja, Nigeria. Can be reached at usamagayyi@gmail.com.