Hausa Film Industry

Directors: Ahmad A. Bifa & Auwal D. Yakasai 

‎Producer: Yakubu M. Yakub

‎Language: Hausa

‎Company: Tumbin Giwa TV

‎Premiere: 8/6/2026

‎Cast: Adam Garba, Isah Adam (Feroz Khan), Fatima Ibrahim, Maryam Booth, Maryam Yahaya, Ummusalama Inuwa, Radiya Jibril, Shatou Abdul, etc. Zarge is a Hausa word for ‘noose’, which refers to a loop of rope with a slipknot that tightens when pulled. Figuratively, the word denotes confusion or a difficult situation. The series Zarge lives up to its title, being a harrowing drama of compounding crises. 

The story revolves around Fatima (Fatima Ibrahim), a young village girl whose fate takes her away from her own family, only for her to become the saviour of another.

The series opens with Hajiya (Ummusalama Inuwa) plotting to abduct her pregnant in-law, Nafisa (Radiya Jibril), and have her unborn child killed. Meanwhile, Fatima and her friends return to their village after finishing boarding school, but their bus breaks down. As they wait for the driver to fix the vehicle, Fatima slips away and takes a forest shortcut, hoping to reach home sooner. 

Deep in the forest, Fatima finds Nafisa held captive by Hajiya’s henchmen. Nafisa attempts to escape, but her abductors chase her down. As she flees, she runs into Fatima, who has been hiding and watching. The ensuing struggle triggers Nafisa’s labour. Fatima helps her deliver the baby, and Nafisa, with her final breath, entrusts the newborn to her.

After an arduous journey, Fatima finally takes the infant home, only to face her parents’ disappointment. Assuming that Fatima has had the baby out of wedlock, they refuse to accept the situation. She therefore leaves home for the city, where she finds work as a housemaid. Ironically, she ends up in the very home of Nafisa’s in-laws, the people who wanted the baby dead. The drama continues…

Zarge is a gripping series that holds the audience in suspense, anticipating danger in almost every scene. Each episode ends with a perfect noose that you fear might tighten, especially as Fatima works in Hajiya’s house. What if she comes across Nafisa’s picture and reveals that the baby is her son? What if Hajiya discovers the truth and kills him?

However, Fatima appears to be a godsend to Nafisa’s family. Not only is she raising the surviving newborn, but she is also unknowingly saving his father, Umar (Adam Garba), without knowing who he is or his connection to the child. For instance, when Hajiya and her children plot to poison Umar, Fatima saves him by secretly replacing his poisoned food with another meal. 

The screenplay is tightly structured, with well-written character motivations that drive the plot. This makes the conflicts feel connected and engaging. The screenwriters and directors deserve commendation for bringing these elements together cohesively.

The series is also technically solid. The cinematography beautifully captures the natural forest landscapes, authentic village settings, and atmospheric night scenes. The sound design is carefully balanced, with Nazifi Asnanic’s evocative soundtrack heightening the emotional intensity.

The actors all deliver wonderful performances. Ummusalama Inuwa is effective as Hajiya, and the debutante Fatima Ibrahim is perfectly cast as the young village girl. She portrays her character’s innocence and inquisitiveness so convincingly that it is hard to imagine anyone else in the role. However, while Maryam Booth and Maryam Yahaya don’t get much scope, Adam Garba, Isah Adam (Feroz Khan), and Shatou Abdul deserve special mention.

In conclusion, Zarge is definitely one of the best series of the year. Its intriguing drama makes for an enjoyable watch. I highly recommend it.

Rating: 4/5

Reviewed by Habibu Maaruf Abdu.

‎The Shareef brothers, Abdul and Umar M. Shareef, seem to have a strong fondness for playing romantic heroes. This likely inspired them to produce an emotional love story in which they take on their favourite leading roles. The production, entitled ‘Soyayyata’ (Translated as ‘My Love’), also appears to be their first series under the ‘Shareef Studio’ banner.

‎Soyayyata (though they mistakenly wrote the name as “Soyayya ta”) is a romantic drama exploring unrequited love, mistaken assumptions, and the complexities of family ties. The series primarily follows a love triangle involving Abbas (Abdul M. Shareef), Zuhra (Maryam Booth), and Haneef (Umar M. Shareef).

‎Abbas and Zuhra are cousins raised together within a shared family compound. Since childhood, his mother had betrothed Zuhra to him, as is customary in Hausa tradition. Abbas grows up to love Zuhra, but she sees him as nothing more than a brother. Meanwhile, she meets Haneef at a wedding, where he falls in love with her at first sight – an affection she fortunately reciprocates even more deeply.

‎Noticing something unusual in Zuhra’s behaviour, Abbas’s younger sister, Suhaima (Madina Abdul), persuades their parents to formally approach Zuhra’s family about the intended marriage. However, while Zuhra’s father, who is Abbas’s uncle, approves, her mother rejects the proposal. Abbas also learns the painful truth that Zuhra does not love him romantically, igniting emotional turbulence and family conflict.

‎Meanwhile, Haneef’s mother opposes his choice of Zuhra because of her humble background but later concedes because of his persistence. However, his father falls ill and dies suddenly on the day of his wedding to Zuhra, setting off a chain of dramatic twists that reshape the course of the story.

‎Despite its compact premise, the series sustains engagement through the gradual introduction of new narrative layers and characters. For instance, Ilham (Asmeey Wakili), introduced in a pivotal role towards the end of Season 1, breathes new life into the story. Despite its rather slow pace, the series keeps audiences engaged with steadily mounting tension.

‎Soyayyata is indeed worth watching for its relatable theme, which resonates strongly with young audiences. It dramatises the familiar scenario of a childhood-betrothed ‘cousin’ losing out to a ‘newcomer’. Young women with early betrothal experiences will identify with Zuhra’s predicament, while those nursing a secret crush will empathise with Abbas, who suffers in silence, enduring the pain of unrequited affection.

‎Additionally, beyond its central love story, Soyayyata explores themes of class discrimination, parental materialism in marriage arrangements, and the far-reaching consequences of such decisions. It also highlights how a lack of open communication can make arranged marriages fragile enough to break even the strongest familial bonds.

‎The series, however, scores little in terms of production quality. Continuity lapses are evident, and the editing lacks finesse. Also, while the interconnection across episodes is reasonably sustained, Episode 4 largely recycles scenes from Episodes 1 and 3. Nevertheless, these shortcomings are pardonable, given the competent direction and commendable performances that make the series ultimately captivating.

‎Finally, if you are struggling to keep pace with the endless YouTube series being released every day, Soyayyata is one you shouldn’t overlook. It is well worth your time.

‎Rating: 3/5

By Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin 

The Kannywood film industry is more than an entertainment industry. It has become one of the most powerful cultural influences in Northern Nigeria. The stories it tells shape how people think, speak, and sometimes even behave. Characters become role models, and the habits they display often find their way into everyday life.

That is why this is a respectful appeal to directors, producers, and scriptwriters: as you entertain millions, also seize the opportunity to promote simple habits that make our society safer, healthier, and more compassionate.

One of the simplest ways to save lives is also one of the most overlooked. Wearing a seat belt should not depend on the distance being travelled. Whether someone is driving to the market, taking children to school, or travelling across states, everyone in the vehicle, including those in the back seat, should buckle up before the journey begins.

Unfortunately, films often show characters jumping into cars and driving away without fastening their seat belts. This unintentionally sends the message that seat belts are optional. Imagine the opposite: respected characters calmly fastening their seat belts before starting the engine, reminding passengers to do the same. Such scenes require only a few seconds but can influence millions of viewers.

Also, modern driving is increasingly threatened by distracted driving. Many people believe it is harmless to answer a quick call, read a message, or reply to a text while driving. Others assume it is safe to use their phones while waiting at a traffic light.

In reality, distraction can be deadly. Safe driving means the phone stays out of the driver’s hands until the vehicle has been parked safely. Showing heroes who ignore incoming calls while driving or politely tell callers, “I’ll call you back when I’ve stopped,” promotes a powerful message without interrupting the story.

Additionally, food is central to many Kannywood stories. Family meals, celebrations, and traditional gatherings are common scenes. Yet one simple habit is often overlooked: washing hands properly before eating or preparing food.

Handwashing properly remains one of the most effective ways to prevent many infectious diseases. A brief scene showing a family washing their hands before sharing a meal can quietly reinforce a healthy practice that protects entire households.

Mental health is another area where Kannywood can make a real difference. Too often, emotional struggles are portrayed only as spiritual attacks. Faith is important, but so are counselling, medical care, and family support. Showing them together would reflect real life and encourage more understanding.

Furthermore, people living with disabilities deserve to be represented with dignity and authenticity. Too often, disability is used merely as comic relief, a symbol of helplessness, or a tool to evoke pity.

Real life tells a different story. Across Nigeria, people with disabilities are teachers, entrepreneurs, professionals, artists, students, parents, and community leaders. They contribute meaningfully to society and deserve to see themselves represented fairly on screen.

Inclusive storytelling means giving characters with disabilities meaningful roles, realistic ambitions, and complete personalities—not defining them solely by their disabilities.

Social change does not always begin with government policies or public campaigns. Sometimes it begins with everyday habits becoming normal. This is why I hope Kannywood filmmakers become more intentional about the habits they put on screen. The greatest impact may not come from dramatic speeches or moral lectures, but from ordinary characters consistently doing the right thing.

After all, audiences often imitate what they repeatedly see. Sometimes, the lessons we never intended to teach become the ones the world remembers the most.

Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin is a graduate of mass communication from Bayero University, Kano, and can be reached at ibrahimaliyu5023@gmail.com.

By Mubarak Umar

There are television series you watch for entertainment, and there are those that remind you what storytelling is truly capable of.

Matan Gida, created by Abubakar Bashir Maishadda, is one of those rare productions.

For years, Hausa television has largely remained within the familiar territory of domestic disputes, predictable romances, and neatly resolved family conflicts. Audiences have become accustomed to stories that rarely challenge expectations. Matan Gida breaks away from that tradition with remarkable confidence.

The series is driven by a screenplay that feels fearless. I can sense that when Ibrahim Birniwa opened his PC to draft Matan Gidan, he wasn’t writing to satisfy convention; he was writing to provoke thought. The script explores uncomfortable realities, moral ambiguities, power dynamics, and the hidden complexities in our everyday lives, subjects that many filmmakers have hesitated to approach. Every episode feels intentional, with dialogue that carries weight and scenes that linger long after the credits roll.

The entire cast truly deserves equal praise. The ensemble is balanced, with each actor bringing a distinct personality and energy to the screen. There is no sense of characters competing for attention; instead, every performance contributes meaningfully to the larger narrative. It is this diversity of characterisation that gives Matan Gida its emotional richness and realism.

Abubakar Maishadda deserves credit for trusting a script that challenges Kannywood’s conventional cinema. Because producing a series like Matan Gida is a creative statement. It proves that audiences are ready for mature, thought-provoking stories.

And now comes the real test.

With Season Two premiering today, expectations are high. The first season didn’t just tell a complex story—it raised the standard in Kannywood. Audiences will be expecting deeper conflicts, higher emotional stakes, more character arcs, and answers to the questions deliberately left hanging. More importantly, viewers will expect the series to preserve the boldness that made the first season stand out rather than retreat into familiar territory.

If Ibrahim Birniwa’s pen remains as fearless as it was in Season One, and if the series continues on the pedestal that challenges both the industry and its audience, Matan Gida has every chance of becoming one of the defining works of modern Hausa television.

By Khalid Imam 

The Triple R Kannywood Renewed Hope Initiative, the highest body of elite Kannywood actors and other influential Arewa creatives, led by Alhaji Dauda Adamu Abdullahi Kahutu Rarara, organised a special prayer session to pray for peace, unity, and security in Nigeria on 22nd June 2026 at the Aminu Dantata Trade Fair Complex in Kano City.

Conceived by a high-powered 5-Man Committee of Special Prayer chaired by Nura Hussaini, a famous Hausa film actor, the session drew a massive turnout of notable Hausa film actors, directors, singers, scriptwriters, authors, and other creatives in the arts industry. TikTok influencers and dozens of group members were also in attendance, and all were united by their concern over Nigeria’s security situation.

The special prayers attracted enthusiastic attendees from the film and arts industry in Kano, Kaduna, Gombe, Niger, Sokoto, Borno, and other Northern regions. Starting around 11 am, members recited the Holy Qur’an. A big cow and a large ram were slaughtered, and the meat was shared among the public. The act sought Allah’s intervention for lasting peace and security, especially in troubled areas. 

Prayers were also faithfully offered for Almighty Allah to completely crush all those directly or indirectly profiting from the killing of innocent lives, especially bandits and other troublemakers. Members also prayed, asking God to bring a permanent end to terrorism, armed robbery, kidnapping, and every form of insecurity plaguing Nigeria, particularly the North.

To ensure a well-coordinated and sustained approach, the initiative is committed to establishing the said powerful standing committee under the chairmanship of Nura Hussaini, with Sharu Nagudu serving as Vice Chairman. All members of the Triple R Kannywood for Renewed Hope Initiative are automatic and committed members, working collectively to hold continuous prayers for peace, unity, security, and Nigeria’s overall development.

At the heart of the prayers was a collective plea for Allah’s immediate intervention in ending the violence still disrupting communities across Nigeria. The group also prayed for lasting peace, security, and stability across Nigeria, for unity, love, and mutual understanding among all citizens, and for wisdom and sound guidance for the country’s political leadership at the national and state levels as they strive harder to steer the nation toward achieving peace and socioeconomic transformation.

Speaking to journalists at the venue of the special prayers and sacrifices, Rarara, a preeminent Hausa song artist and leader of the converged creative minds under the Triple R Kannywood Renewed Hope Initiative, said, “The initiative recognises the daunting challenges security agents face daily in tackling insecurity across the country. This prayer session was organised to complement their efforts by seeking Allah’s intervention and urging the general public to join in praying for the success of the government and security personnel in combating this persistent menace.”

Khalid Imam, a multiple award-winning bilingual author based in Kano, attended the special prayer session and crafted this report.

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 Ibrahim Aliyu

Over the past few decades, Kannywood has grown into one of the most influential cultural industries in Northern Nigeria. Rooted in the Hausa language, Islamic values, and local traditions, it has shaped entertainment, storytelling, and public discourse across millions of homes. For many families, Kannywood was never merely cinema; it became a reflection of identity, morality, family structure, and social values.

Yet despite its cultural importance, Kannywood continues to attract criticism from various sections of society. Some believe the industry has drifted from the moral and religious principles it once claimed to uphold. Others argue that society itself has become increasingly harsh, suspicious, and contradictory in its judgments of public morality.

Perhaps the deeper issue is not merely “bad behaviour” in the industry, but the growing tension among public morality, private intentions, and shifting social perceptions.

In Islam, unnecessary physical intimacy between non-Mahram men and women is generally discouraged, and Hausa society has historically taken such boundaries seriously and with respect. However, there was also a period in Northern Nigeria when families could sit together and watch classic Kannywood comedy scenes featuring actors such as Ibro and Tsigai without automatically interpreting every interaction through a sexual lens.

Parents watched alongside their children. Grandparents watched with their grandchildren. Communities laughed together. At the time, many viewers saw those scenes primarily as comedy, storytelling, and harmless entertainment within a familiar cultural context.

This raises an important question: What changed?

Part of the answer may lie in how modern society increasingly interprets many human interactions through suspicion and moral anxiety. The rapid expansion of social media, unrestricted internet access, celebrity culture, and exposure to explicit online content have reshaped how people perceive entertainment, gender interactions, and morality itself.

As a result, public discussions about morality sometimes become less about intentions, discipline, and character, and more about appearances and public performance. In such an environment, accusations of immorality can spread quickly, even when the cultural context or the intention is more complex.

Hausa society contains longstanding cultural traditions that show how social interaction has historically been understood within context and boundaries. Practices such as “wasan kanin miji” and “wasan kaka da jika” reflect playful social interactions that coexisted with strong family values and respect for marriage institutions. These interactions were not automatically deemed immoral because society recognised the importance of trust, intention, and communal understanding.

This does not mean boundaries should disappear, nor does it suggest that moral principles are unimportant. Rather, it highlights the need for balance, sincerity, and self-awareness when discussing morality in public life.

The danger arises when society becomes more concerned with appearing morally superior than with cultivating genuine ethical discipline. Excessive suspicion, constant public outrage, and the tendency to sexualise ordinary human behaviour can deepen social tension rather than achieve genuine moral reform.

In this sense, Kannywood is more than a film industry. It has become a mirror reflecting the wider struggles within Northern society — the struggle between tradition and modernity, religious values and entertainment culture, public expectations and private realities.

The debate surrounding Kannywood is therefore not only about actors, actresses, or films. It is also about how society defines morality, how communities respond to cultural change, and whether public conversations about ethics are guided by wisdom, balance, and sincerity rather than by fear, projection, or moral performance.

As Northern Nigeria continues to evolve socially and culturally, perhaps the challenge is not to destroy cultural institutions out of anxiety, but to engage them thoughtfully, critically, and honestly — while preserving the values that truly strengthen society.

Ibrahim Aliyu wrote via khalilnuradeen@gmail.com.

For the first time in a while, I have come across a Kannywood series trailer so compelling that it instantly made me crave its release. Such is the effect of the newly released trailer for the upcoming series Kaddara, unveiled yesterday.

It is worth recalling that the series was announced a few months ago by Abnur Entertainment. It has since generated considerable buzz due to the reputation of the producers and its stellar cast, including the veteran Nafisa Abdullahi, who is making a comeback after a prolonged hiatus from the Kannywood film industry.

The compelling has further amplified the anticipation. The editing is deliberate, showing only fragments of conflict without revealing the full shape of the narrative. In other words, the trailer teases just enough to excite without giving away the complexity of the plot.

This restraint is commendable, as it avoids the common pitfall of overexposure that plagues many Kannywood teasers.

Equally significant is the assembly of the cast. Alongside Nafisa Abdullahi are Ibrahim Maishunku and Zahradden Sani, whose reduced visibility in recent years has made their presence here particularly noteworthy. They are complemented by the constant faces of Ali Nuhu, Adam Zango, and Falalu Dorayi, among others. Naturally, this is a cast designed to deliver.

However, trailers are just promises, not guarantees. Kannywood has, on several occasions, produced compelling previews that ultimately led to uneven final products. The real test for Kaddara will therefore lie in its narrative discipline.

Kaddara is scheduled for release on Sunday, April 12, 2026. We wait to see whether it can sustain tension, avoid melodramatic excess, and translate its visual appeal into a coherent and engaging story.

Habibu Maaruf Abdu 

habibumaaruf11@gmail.com

By Shamwil Ibrahim (Justice)

The news of Umar Ascon’s death arrived with a weight that words can barely carry. For many who knew him, it felt unreal, like a story told in error, a rumour that would soon be corrected. But it was true. Umar Ascon was gone. For those of us who shared a classroom with him, the loss feels even more personal.

I first met Umar Ascon in 2015 at Kano State Polytechnic. We were both admitted to study English and Applied Linguistics. Like many students starting a new academic journey, we were strangers brought together by the same course and the same campus. Yet it did not take long for Umar to become someone impossible to overlook.

He was one of the funniest people in our class and, arguably, in the entire department. Wherever Umar was, laughter followed. His humour was natural and effortless. He had a way of turning ordinary conversations into moments of joy. In lecture halls, corridors, or casual gatherings around campus, Umar had the rare ability to make people forget their worries, even if only for a moment.

Although he was older than me, Umar never allowed age to create distance between us. He treated everyone with openness and warmth. Over time, what began as a simple acquaintance developed into friendship. Across Kano State Polytechnic, Umar was already known by many students. Whenever he walked across campus, people would often point him out and whisper a familiar word: celebrity.

The reason was simple. Even during his years as a student, Umar Ascon was already appearing in Kannywood films. He was gradually building his presence in the Hausa film industry while still pursuing his education. For many students, seeing someone from their own classroom on television screens was both surprising and inspiring.

Yet what made Umar remarkable was not just his growing recognition in the film industry. It was his humility.

Despite the attention he received, Umar remained approachable and friendly. He never carried himself with arrogance. Instead, he used his position to encourage and uplift others.

For me, Umar did something that would shape my life. He introduced me to the Kannywood film industry. Through him, I found my own path into filmmaking, a voyage that continues to define my creative life today. Opportunities like that often come through people who believe in you before the world does. Umar was that person.

Even in recent times, Umar continued to think about the future of the industry he loved. The last conversation I had with him was about a film project he was planning. Umar spoke passionately about creating a production that could reach global standards, a film capable of standing proudly alongside international productions on platforms such as Netflix. He believed strongly that the Hausa film industry had the talent and stories needed to reach the world.

His dream was not only to entertain audiences but to elevate the industry. That dream now remains unfinished.

When the news of his death reached me, disbelief overwhelmed me. I felt compelled to confirm it myself. I called his phone. His wife answered. My voice shook as I asked, almost hoping the answer would dismiss the rumour. “Where is Umar?”

There was silence for a moment. Then, through tears, she spoke words that will remain with me forever. “Umar is no more.” She explained that he had passed away following complications related to liver illness. In that moment, reality settled with painful clarity.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un.

Umar Ascon’s death represents a profound loss not only to his family and friends but also to the Kannywood film community. He was talented, vibrant, and deeply passionate about his craft. His presence brought laughter to classrooms, energy to film sets, and encouragement to those around him.

Some people leave behind fame. Others leave behind fortune. Umar left behind something far more enduring: memories, laughter, and inspiration.

For those who knew him, the echoes of his humour and kindness will remain long after this moment of grief passes.

May Allah forgive his shortcomings, grant him Aljannatul Firdaus, and give strength to all those mourning his loss.

Umar Ascon may be gone, but the stories, laughter, and dreams he shared will continue to live on. History will be so kind to you, Umar Ascon (Chairman).

Shamwil Ibrahim (Justice) wrote via ibrahimshamawilu@gmail.com.

The new series, Bakan Gizo, is unique for departing from the usual Kannywood storytelling. It is much like a thriller, narrated with suspense and tension, while exploring the immoral lifestyle that is rampant among young people today.

Directed by Kamal S. Akali, the story follows Sharifa (Mommy Gombe), a young woman who leaves her home state, Gombe, to study at Bayero University, Kano. There, she is drawn into a new social circle through her free-spirited friends, Salma (Zahrah Aliyu) and Zee (Bilkisu Abdullahi). She also begins an affair with Abba (Yusuf Saseen), who is deeply in love with her but increasingly possessive.

Sharifa is not content with Abba as her partner. She, therefore, enters a new relationship with Sharif (Isah Adam Feroz Khan), a spoiled brat from a wealthy family. However, things take a violent turn when her two lovers discover each other, leading to Sharif being stabbed in the stomach.

Judging by its genre, which is well-suited for a series film format, Bakan Gizo promises to be a compelling and attention-grabbing production. Viewers are already left in suspense to see how the story unfolds, particularly how Sharif’s wealthy mother, a high-ranking police officer (played by Hauwa Farar Lema) who also sleeps with Abba, will investigate the unfortunate incident that befalls her son.

The series appears to draw stylistic inspiration from Indian cinema. This is unsurprising, given director Kamal S. Akali’s creative history, including adaptations of films like Velayudham (as Kanwar Dubarudu) and Drishyam (as Umar Sanda) for Kannywood audiences.

The narrative revolves around a single storyline with interrelated characters. However, while the characters are well connected, some scenes feel disjointed, making the transition between episodes one and two almost convoluted.

On the other hand, although the performances come across as slightly over-the-top, the stellar cast remains highly effective. Seeing Mommy Gombe and Zahrah Aliyu reunite their chemistry from Gidan Sarauta, alongside the rivalry of Isah Adam (Feroz Khan) and Yusuf Saseen (as seen in Labarina), makes for an enjoyable watch.

Finally, it is too early to pass judgment, but I recommend Bakan Gizo for its fresh storytelling approach in the Kannywood series.

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