Kano State

By Fatima Ishaq Muhammad 

Kano, the city of ancient walls, now bears a heavy burden of the haunting presence of women and children who line its streets, begging for survival. From Sabon Gari to Kofar Ruwa, from traffic lights to mosque entrances, their stretched palms have become a renowned yet disturbing sight, painting a picture of poverty, moral negligence, and broken systems.

What was first considered a social crack has now widened into a full-blown crisis. Most of these street beggars are displaced women, widows, divorcees, and children.

Some as young as four roam the streets daily in search of food, coins, or sympathy. For the women, it’s often the last resort after being abandoned or driven from rural homes. For the children, it’s a stolen childhood, spent in sun-scorched rags rather than classrooms.

The roots of this problem run deep, encompassing widespread poverty, displacement from conflicts in the Northeast, the collapse of social welfare structures, and the controversial Almajiri system, all of which contribute to the cycle. 

While religious and cultural values once nurtured compassion and communal responsibility, they have been distorted over time to excuse neglect and indifference.

Government efforts, while numerous in announcements, remain largely cosmetic. Street begging has been “banned” multiple times in Kano State, but the bans vanish as quickly as they are declared. 

Relocation schemes and rehabilitation centres are often poorly managed or underfunded, leading many beggars to eventually return to the streets, as it is the only place they know.

Even worse, some of these children are exploited, trafficked, or “hired” to pose as beggars in a growing underground network. Women, too, face harassment, sexual violence, and daily humiliation. 

The streets that should offer opportunity are now a stage for public suffering, and this suffering is becoming normalised.

The situation is more than a humanitarian concern; it is a social and security time bomb. The longer these vulnerable groups remain on the streets, the more likely they are to fall into crime, radicalisation, or permanent poverty. And as the city’s population grows, so does the danger of institutional failure.

But all hope is not lost. With the right political will, inclusive policies, and collaboration between government, religious institutions, and civil society, change is possible.

 Empowering women with skills and microloans, integrating Almajiri children into formal education, investing in social welfare, and offering proper shelter to displaced families are realistic solutions not just dreams.

Kano must reclaim its dignity. The crying voices on its streets are not just those of beggars; they are those of citizens, future leaders, mothers, and children with untapped potential. Ignoring them is no longer an option. As the city grows, so should its compassion and responsibility.

Until we act, the story of Kano will not be written in its history books or palaces, but on the tired faces of women and children who call its streets home.

Fatima Ishaq Muhammad wrote via fatimaishaq021@gmail.com.

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu 

Let me start with a context. It happened on June 27, 2024, Gabon’s Show on YouTube.

“Zarmalulu no work” was an expression uttered by TikTok influencer Sayyada Sadiya Haruna, describing the state of her marriage to another TikToker, Abubakar Ibrahim, a Hausa Rapper based in Kano, northern Nigeria, and known by the stage name G-Fresh Alamin. She used the expression during her interview with Hadiza Aliyu Gabon, a Kannywood (Hausa cinema of northern Nigeria) film actress, in an episode of Gabon’s YouTube Show, “Gabon,” on June 27, 2024. Haruna used the expression to inform Gabon and her viewers that G-Fresh was impotent on their wedding night, using ‘Zarmalulu’ as a social code for his non-performing reproductive organ.   

The expression, which quickly became a meme referring to the male sexual organ and its (dis)abilities, became a trending term in Hausaphone social media counterculture, and G-Fresh, usually full of swagger and macho posturing, was highly ridiculed and his swagger deflated, as it were. In this process, Haruna has provided males with an easy way of explaining their erectile dysfunction to either their partners or their healthcare provider in a less embarrassing and amusing way. The use of the term openly reveals a growing vocabulary of erotic neologisms in Hausa social media and reflects the emergence of what I refer to as Hausa digital counterculture.

This media incidence – which received massive views, significantly improving Gabon’s financial standing – reflects one of the fascinating aspects of language development within the context of media anthropology. I am pretty sure that Margaret Mead, the doyen of cultural anthropologists, would have welcomed social media and its potential in studying digital natives. Safer, too. With the increasing creation of conventional and alternative communities on social media, a new discipline has emerged to enable people to study others without the necessity of being in the same physical space and time with them. So, what exactly is “media anthropology”? 

Media anthropology is the ethnographic and critical study of how media—especially digital and social media—are embedded in the cultural, social, political, and economic lives of people. It is a subfield of anthropology that examines how people create, utilise, interpret, and are influenced by media in their daily lives. It blends the traditional ethnographic methods of anthropology—such as participant observation and in-depth interviews—with the analysis of media technologies and content.

My initial focus was on Hausa literature and its transformations – from physical print to online publishing, then to the film industry – encompassing feature films and distribution through tapes, CDs, DVDs, and YouTube series. I then moved on to music, from griot wordsmiths to rap and hip hop. It was all pretty exciting. Then, social media made its entrance and created multiple new entries into the field. 

As a media anthropologist, I immerse myself in communities—both online and offline—to understand how people engage with digital media. For this study, I focused primarily on Facebook as a social network. Hundreds of communities were created on Facebook—mainly by young people—that discuss a wide range of topics, providing a rich source of data concerning youth subcultures and how social networks offer a subversive template for creating new identities and expressions. 

As I swing from one community to another – using Robert Kozinet’s Netnographic methods – I began to notice a new pattern of language usage among young Hausa online digital natives. Then I started gathering new words and expressions that offer alternative meanings to their conventional ones. For the most part, they tended to be innocuous, while hiding a deeper, often darker meaning, and are essentially communicated to ingroup members of the communities. Quite rapidly enough, some of the words began to take on a new urban lexicon on their own. 

A typical example is “capacity,” an innocuous word that means exactly what it says: maximum production or containment. Yet, digital natives have turned it into “kafasiti” to indicate an urban cool, swagger, ability, capability, “arrived”, etc. The word is now used in multiple forms and contexts to refer to attainment of either distinction or class (“Alaji, wallahi an baza kafasiti a bikin nan”). 

But, then, old words have always had new meanings in Hausaphone urban language use. For instance, “shege” is literally a bastard in Hausa, but recontextualised to mean “an expert” or “outstanding.” “Mugu” (bad) became an adjective for extremities (“mugun kyau”, extreme beauty). “Arne” (pagan) transformed into contemporary “bro” (kai arne, yaya dai/yo, bro, wazzup?). “Kwaro” (insect) translates into a tenacious, usually studious person. For southern Nigerians, “Aboki” is an imagined insult referring to any northerner, whether Hausa or not, rather than “friend,” its actual meaning. 

Hausa digital natives utilise the unconventionality of the social media they inhabit to create neologisms that often reflect hidden, dark, or altered meanings, frequently dealing with in-group lexicons. After trawling through various sites and TikTok videos, I was able to gather approximately 35 neologisms and incorporate them into a paper I am still working on. 

Looking at these digital coinages and the transformation of words, I was struck by the fact that many of them refer to bawdy or sexually suggestive language along the entire sexual preference spectrum. They tend to be more common in social networks (e.g., Facebook, WhatsApp, Telegram, Signal), where interactions are mainly conversational, than in visual social media (e.g., TikTok, Instagram). The reason is that visuality often identifies the person easily, and in Kano, an Islamicate state in northern Nigeria, this could lead to prosecution on moral grounds. On social networking sites, users often use aliases instead of their real names. Such anonymity gives them the freedom to express their thoughts and use these neologisms in their correct grammatical sense. The sentences are meaningful only to in-group members, within or outside the online communities. 

Examples include “Malam Zakari da almajirai biyu”, referring to the male reproductive organs. “Kaya” (load, baggage) referring to trophy (girl, money, etc), “tarkon alƙali” (judge’s trap/jailbait) for pedophilic behaviour, royal rumble (orgy) and murfi (cover) referring to lesbian activity.

As I noted, over 70% of the neologisms in my collection were bawdy and sexually slanted. Their creators chose the anonymity of online communities not only to create new coinages but also to perpetuate them, without any fear of social labelling or prosecution. Some of these words will gradually become part of conventional social usage, along with their attendant meanings. There is no stopping them. Their very existence highlights another way social media is influencing our culture, language, and traditions. 

But, what do you think – good, bad, indifferent? Whatever your feeling, what can we do about it? Hausa is not the only language facing this, though. A recent book by Adam Aleksic, Algospeak: How Social Media Is Transforming the Future of Language” (July 15, 2025), reveals the international nature of this phenomenon through “algorithmic speech”. As the blurb indicates:

“From ‘brainrot’ memes and incel slang to the trend of adding ‘-core’ to different influencer aesthetics, the internet has ushered in an unprecedented linguistic upheaval. We’re entering an entirely new era of etymology, marked by the invisible forces that drive social media algorithms. Thankfully, Algospeak is here to explain. As a professional linguist, Adam Aleksic understands the gravity of language and its use: he knows how it has evolved and changed, how it reflects society, and how, in its everyday usage, we carry centuries of human history on our tongues…New slang phrases emerge and go viral overnight. Accents are shaped or erased on YouTube. Grammatical rules, loopholes, and patterns surface and transform language as we know it. Our interactions, social norms, and habits—both online and in person—shift into something completely different.”

No, I don’t have “eCopy” to Acibilistically share. You gotta buy the original print copy if you are interested in the way in which social media usage transforms contemporary language. I can give you the cover of the book for free, though!

By Uzair Adam

The Vice-Chancellor of Northwest University, Kano, Professor Muktar Atiku Kurawa, has announced that the institution will host its second combined convocation ceremony from Friday, July 25 to Saturday, July 26, 2025.

Speaking at a press conference on Tuesday, Professor Kurawa described the event as a significant milestone in the university’s development.

He noted that the convocation would cover five academic sessions, from 2018/2019 to 2023/2024, and will include both undergraduate and postgraduate graduands.

The Daily Reality reports that this marks the first convocation for the university’s postgraduate students, following the commencement of its postgraduate programmes in 2021.

Highlighting the uniqueness of this year’s convocation, the Vice-Chancellor revealed that Justice Sidi Bage Muhammad I, a retired Supreme Court Justice, will be installed as the new Chancellor of the university.

As part of the ceremony, the university will confer honorary doctorate degrees on notable Nigerians who have significantly contributed to its growth and progress.

Among them is Engineer Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, former governor of Kano State and founder of the university and its sister institution, Aliko Dangote University of Science and Technology, Wudil.

Other recipients of the honorary doctorate include philanthropist Hajiya Maryam Sunusi Dantata, the late Alhaji Aminu Dantata (to be honoured posthumously), Alhaji Aliyu Sa’idu Bebeji, proprietor of Aliko Oil, and Alhaji Adamu Yahya (popularly known as A.Y Maikifi).

“These individuals have supported the university since inception and have been instrumental in promoting its mission. We obtained Senate approval to honour them accordingly,” Professor Kurawa stated.

A pre-convocation lecture is scheduled for Friday, July 25, at the university’s City Campus, to be delivered by Professor Abubakar Adamu Rasheed, former Executive Secretary of the National Universities Commission.

The event will be chaired by the Minister of State for Education, Professor Suwaiba Sa’id Ahmad.Speaking on institutional development, Professor Kurawa disclosed that the university has grown from five to nine faculties, with a tenth — the Faculty of Communication and Media Studies — currently under review by the National Universities Commission (NUC).

Plans are also underway to establish a Faculty of Allied Health Sciences offering programs in Nursing, Medical Laboratory Science, Radiography, Physiotherapy, and related fields.

The Vice-Chancellor also confirmed that the university has reverted to its original name, Northwest University, Kano, following a bill signed by the Governor of Kano State on December 25, 2024.

Describing the institution as “first among equals,” Professor Kurawa emphasized that the university is progressing steadily and remains competitive nationally.

He added that the number of students to be convocated is yet to be finalized but assured that a breakdown by session will be released in due course.

By Mohammed Mohammed

Like many others, I was shocked when I recently saw an advisory by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) declaring Alhaji Auwalu Tijjani Rabi’u wanted for alleged money laundering involving over $1.9 million.  

My shock, and that of many others, stemmed from the general belief in Alhaji Auwalu’s reputation as a businessman of integrity over the years and across his business constituencies in Nigeria, the UAE, and beyond. 

Having gone through the details of the transactions in question, including the reports of a reputable audit firm, which audited the transactions between Alhaji Auwalu and the purported petitioner, one Ifeanyi Ezeokoli, it’s quite clear that the former took advantage of Alhaji Auwalu’s tendency to trust people even without due diligence sometimes, which stems from his sheer clean-mindedness.   

According to the available records, Alhaji Auwalu made an overpayment of more than $3 million to  Ifeanyi Ezeokoli in 2022 as part of a business transaction that spanned a year. And though Ifeanyi was aware of the mix-up behind the regular overpayment, he turned a blind eye and continued receiving payments not due to him. 

And knowing that the bubble would burst one day, he continued to use different companies’ bank accounts, most of which were for third parties, apparently to complicate the auditing of the transactions. Yet, when it appeared to him that his game was over, he came up with an allegation that Alhaji Auwalu owes him over $1.9m, and even went ahead to file a case at the EFCC, which, in turn, declared him wanted. 

However, now that the Federal High Court in Kaduna has issued an interim order restraining the EFCC from taking any measures against Alhaji Auwalu pending the determination of his complaint before it, things have begun to take the right direction, which will undoubtedly culminate in not only absolving Alhaji Auwalu but also enabling him to recover his money from Ifeanyi. 

After all, if for nothing, Alhaji Auwalu is a man whose life seamlessly blends the acumen of business with the compassion of philanthropy. Known across communities not just for his remarkable business success, but more so for his boundless generosity, Auwalu stands tall as a symbol of service and humility. 

Alhaji Auwal’s journey in the business world is one of resilience and integrity. He has built an impressive legacy, earning respect not only for his achievements but for how he achieved them, with fairness, foresight, and a deep sense of responsibility. Yet, what truly sets him apart is that he never allowed success to cloud his sense of duty to others.

Through quiet acts and major initiatives alike, Auwalu has touched countless lives. From supporting the vulnerable and other acts of charity, his contributions have brought light and hope to individuals and entire communities. For many, he is not just a benefactor; he is a lifeline, a silent force who sees a need and responds with action, not applause.

His philanthropy is not showy or self-serving. It is driven by sincere empathy and a belief that every life uplifted enriches us all. Whether in times of ease or crisis, Auwalu has remained steadfast, ever ready to give without hesitation and serve without seeking recognition.

To speak of Auwalu is to talk about impact. His name inspires admiration, but more importantly, it inspires others to give, to build, and to believe in a better world.

Auwalu is more than a businessman. He is a builder of dreams, a guardian of dignity, and a blessing to many.

Mohammed Mohammed wrote from Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

Dear Hauwa,

I am delighted to hear about your journey from intern to staff member at Radio France Internationale (RFI) Hausa.You’ve truly followed in your father’s footsteps, carrying on his legacy as a dedicated and passionate journalist. He was a veteran in the field, and it’s clear that you’ve inherited his gift for storytelling and commitment to excellence.

Your work shines brightly, just like your looks. Your talent, intelligence and work ethic have earned you recognition and praise, and rightly so. 

You have a gift, Hauwa, and it’s not just your beauty or talent – it’s your passion, drive, and commitment to making a difference.

As you continue to grow in your career, I want to remind you to stay focused on your goals. It’s easy to get caught up in praise and admiration, but don’t let that distract you from your vision. Don’t let it go to your head and make you feel like you’ve already arrived.

Look to your professional colleagues, such as Madina Maishanu, and trailblazers like Kadaria Ahmed, who have paved the way for Northern women in journalism with their dedication and resilience. Take inspiration from their journeys and continue to push boundaries, tell impactful stories, and inspire others.

I pray that you’ll continue to excel in your career, staying true to your values and passion. May your path be filled with opportunities, and may your heart remain full of joy and purpose. May you always find strength in your convictions and continue to shine brightly in all you do.

With love, admiration, and best wishes,

Ukasha Kofarnassarawa

Best regards, 

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

KANO — Nigeria has earned international recognition following the appointment of Professor Rabia Sa’id, a renowned physicist from Bayero University Kano, to a newly established United Nations independent scientific panel tasked with assessing the impacts of nuclear war.

The 21-member panel, constituted under UN Resolution 79/238, will provide a comprehensive scientific report on the consequences of nuclear conflict by 2027. The panel is part of a broader global initiative aimed at strengthening nuclear disarmament efforts and promoting peace through evidence-based research.

Professor Sa’id’s inclusion in the panel underscores Nigeria’s increasing influence in global peacebuilding, science diplomacy, and advocacy for nuclear non-proliferation. Her appointment is being hailed as a significant milestone for Nigerian science and for women in STEM across Africa.

A respected scholar and advocate for science education and sustainable development, Professor Sa’id brings to the panel a wealth of academic experience and a strong commitment to global security.

Her appointment has been widely celebrated within Nigeria’s academic and diplomatic communities as a positive step toward the country’s deeper engagement in global scientific and humanitarian initiatives.

By Uzair Adam

The Kano State House of Assembly has refuted claims circulating online that it is planning to investigate the Chairperson of the Association of Local Governments of Nigeria (ALGON) in the state, Hajiya Sa’adatu Yusha’u, describing the reports as baseless and misleading.

This clarification was made in a statement issued by Kamaluddeen Shawai, Chief Press Secretary to the Speaker of the Assembly, on Thursday in Kano.

According to the statement, the reports alleged that the assembly had finalized plans to probe the ALGON Chair, who also doubles as the Chairperson of Tudun Wada Local Government Area, over alleged irregularities in land allocation.

Shawai emphasized that the Majority Leader of the House, Lawal Hussain-Dala, had not granted any interview or made any comments to any media outlet regarding such an investigation.

“The receipt of a petition by the Majority Leader from citizens does not translate to an endorsement of any investigation, nor does it constitute a decision or pronouncement by the House,” the statement read.

He condemned what he described as a deliberate misrepresentation of legislative procedures, insisting the report was aimed at damaging the reputation of the Majority Leader and the legislative body.

Shawai further explained that the assembly adheres strictly to constitutional provisions and due process in all its affairs.

He noted that any investigation must follow laid-down procedures, including offering all parties a fair hearing.

He also stressed that the assembly reserves the right to receive and evaluate petitions in line with the principles of transparency and the rule of law.

The House has therefore called on those behind the report, including media outlets, to retract the publication and issue a public apology within seven days or risk legal action.

By Muhammad Abubakar

In a landmark move set to reshape the future of Nigerian club football, Kano Pillars FC has announced a major sponsorship agreement with Radio France Internationale (RFI) Hausa. The partnership positions RFI Hausa as the club’s main sponsor for the upcoming season, marking a significant step in the club’s quest for revival and excellence.

The deal, unveiled by new General Manager and Nigerian football icon Ahmed Musa, includes full kit sponsorship for all Kano Pillars teams — from the senior side to junior categories such as U19, U15, and U13. RFI Hausa’s logo will feature prominently on the team’s jerseys and across all official branding.

Beyond financial support, RFI Hausa will equip the club with modern media tools, offer training for the club’s media department in professional video production, and develop a comprehensive communications strategy. The partnership also extends to media collaborations and the publication of content on RFI Hausa’s platforms.

“This marks a new dawn for Kano Pillars FC,” said Ahmed Musa. “We are committed to transparency, progress, and excellence. Brighter days filled with success and glory lie ahead for Sai Masu Gida.”

Joe Penney, Director of France Médias Monde Nigeria, expressed RFI Hausa’s enthusiasm about the collaboration. “We are proud to partner with such a beloved club. We believe in the team’s vision and will help push the club forward as much as possible.”

As Kano Pillars gears up for the new season, the club’s leadership and fan base hope that this partnership will not only bring success on the pitch but also elevate the club’s media presence and community impact.

Your Excellency,

We, the undersigned concerned applicants of the Kano State Postgraduate Scholarship Scheme 2025, wish to bring to your attention an issue that has caused great concern and uncertainty among many eligible indigenes of our dear state.

Following the screening exercise conducted by the Kano State Scholarship Board in January 2025, we were informed that nearly 4,000 candidates were confirmed eligible for the scholarship. The process was widely appreciated for its inclusivity across all fields of study.

However, it has come to our attention that the selection process for awardees has taken a one-sided turn. The Ministry for Higher Education has reportedly begun contacting selected candidates via phone calls; however, all those contacted so far are exclusively from STEM fields (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics). Applicants from equally important fields, such as the Social Sciences, Management Sciences, Arts, and Humanities, have been completely left out.

Several applicants have verified with the callers that only STEM candidates are being considered. This development has caused confusion and concern among the rest of us who also performed excellently and are proud indigenes of Kano State. We believe this situation undermines the spirit of equity and fairness for which Your Excellency is known.

To seek clarification, we formed a committee and visited the Scholarship Board. We were directed to the Ministry for Higher Education, but unfortunately, our concerns were not addressed; we were only allowed to submit a letter to the ministry’s secretary.

Your Excellency, we respectfully appeal for your kind intervention in this matter. We believe that every qualified and hardworking indigene, regardless of their field of study, deserves a fair opportunity. If the current arrangement cannot accommodate all eligible applicants from abroad and domestic private universities, we request that consideration be given to sponsoring students to domestic public universities within Nigeria or providing automatic job placements within the state civil service. These would be a worthy recognition of our academic dedication and a meaningful investment in the future of Kano State.

We remain hopeful and confident that Your Excellency will act with your usual sense of justice, fairness, and compassion.

Yours respectfully,

Comrade Safiyanu Yunusa Musa Rijiyar Zaki, Chairman of the Concerned Applicants Committee

MJ Bashir, Vice Chairman

By Habib Sani Galadima

In 2021, I attended the wedding dinner of my friend Jamilu Ibrahim Lawan. I was seated close to the front, on a white plastic chair wrapped in gold fabric. Before me, the table was neatly set: a plate of Jollof rice, definitely not Nigerian, soft meat, and chilled drinks.

Then the emcee began his greeting: “Malam Alhaji Dr. Musa, Hajiya Barrister Halima, distinguished guests…” The crowd responded with approving nods. The roll call was not mere protocol. It was a performance of hierarchy, identity, and cultural choreography; compressed into names.

Last week, I was at another gathering with my brother. We both wore beads, but his was longer and more ornate. I casually called him by his marketplace nickname “Ustaz”. Minutes later, someone suggested he should lead the zuhr prayer. I cannot say the title alone earned him that role, but I am certain it tipped the scale. In Hausa society, a name does not just identify, it calibrates power. Every title is weighed by a specific cultural logic.

Whether it is ‘Malam’, ‘Alhaji’, ‘Ustaz’, ‘Engineer’, or ‘Sarki’, each one signals something; scholarship, pilgrimage, class, inheritance, or even self-promotion. To outsiders, they may sound interchangeable. To insiders, they map power, piety, education, and ambition.

Understanding Hausa titles is not about translating words. It is about interpreting what they signify, how they command trust, confer legitimacy, or inflate status.
Ask a Hausa child who taught them how to read Qur’an, and the answer is often the same: “Malam.” But today, that word travels far beyond the Tsangaya.

Originally from the Arabic ‘mu’allim’, meaning teacher, ‘Malam’ once marked someone rooted in Islamic knowledge, versed in tafsir, guardians of moral clarity, respected in both mosque and marketplace. A ‘Malam’ was more than a scholar. He was a compass.
Now the title is elastic. It applies to schoolteachers, lecturers, civil servants, even radio presenters with confident diction. In classrooms, it confers authority. In markets, it softens tone. Sometimes it is just what you call a man whose name you do not know. And on social media, Malam can shift from respect to ridicule, used to mock someone who parades borrowed wisdom.

This stretch reflects Hausa society’s deep reverence for learning, but also its evolving standards for what counts as knowledge. Malam no longer guarantees scholarship. It signals the appearance of learning, genuine or not.

Still, the word carries weight. It opens doors, commands silence, curates tone. Whether whispered by students or shouted from campaign stages, Malam remains a title that balances between reverence and performance. Between earned wisdom and social display.

Once upon a time, calling someone ‘Alhaji’ or ‘Malam’ was enough. Today, it is Alhaji Engr. (Dr.) Chief Sani, and the wedding card has not even listed his full name yet.
Across Northern Nigeria, title stacking has become a performance of prestige. What began as distinct acknowledgments of religious devotion (Alhaji), scholarly authority (Malam), or traditional office (Waziri, Sarki or Galadima) now mingle with Western academic and professional badges like Pharm., Barr., or Engr. One name carries five honorifics.

How did we go from single titles to full-length prefixes? The answer lies in both competition and code-switching. In a society where jobs are scarce and respect is fiercely guarded, titles become symbolic currency. They signal arrival. They fend off dismissal. A stacked name becomes shorthand for success, even when its credentials are uneven.

But it is more than vanity. Hausa speakers navigate overlapping systems of esteem; Islamic virtue, traditional nobility, colonial bureaucracy, and global credentialism. The title stack tries to contain them all: faith, lineage, modernity, merit, compressed into one string of prefixes.

The cost is semantic overload. At some point, ‘Dr. Alhaji Barr.’ says less about your knowledge than about your insecurity. It clutters public introductions and invites satire, as comedians mimic “Comrade Chief (Dr.) Honourable Mallam Digital Strategist…” to lampoon inflated self-worth.

Still, the inflation persists. Because in a culture where ‘girmamawa’ is armor, each new prefix feels like one more layer of protection.

In Hausa culture, titles matter. But girmamawa (respect) runs deeper.
An old man in a village, never called Alhaji or Malam, may command more silence in a gathering than someone with ten honorifics. Why? Because Hausa society has always known the difference between a name and a reputation.

Titles like Dr., Hajiya, Malam, or Waziri can open doors. They invite polite speech, they soften refusals, they protect ego. But respect is built slowly: through action, humility, and how one treats others when no one is watching.

People admire the man who settles disputes without shouting. The woman who feeds orphans without posting about it. The trader whose word is stronger than a receipt. These are the quiet architects of girmamawa.

The tension is real. A person can be called ‘Alhaji Barrister’ and still be mocked behind their back if they abuse power. On the other hand, someone with no title might be described as ‘mutumin kirki’ (a person of upright character) and be trusted with community secrets or village leadership.

Hausa proverbs capture this wisdom. One says, “A bin da ya fi ado, shi ne hali”, meaning, (character is greater than decoration).

The lesson is simple: titles may impress, but they cannot replace trust.