By Hadiza Abdulkadir

The Presidency for Religious Affairs at the Grand Mosque and the Prophet’s Mosque has launched a groundbreaking digital enrichment project using artificial intelligence (AI) to teach and correct the recitation of Surah Al-Fatihah.

The initiative, inaugurated on Saturday, is part of broader efforts to enhance the experience of pilgrims and visitors at the Two Holy Mosques. 

It offers an advanced educational platform that allows users to enhance their recitation through AI-driven analysis, listen to model recitations from imams of the mosque, and explore translations of the surah in various languages.

According to the Presidency, this represents the pilot phase of the project, which is expected to expand in the future. The platform employs advanced algorithms to evaluate recitation in real-time, connecting traditional learning methods with modern technology.

As part of Saudi Arabia’s digital transformation strategy in religious education, the initiative aims to offer a seamless and enriching learning experience for visitors from around the world.

By Ibrahim Sulaiman (Jama’are)

In circa 1993, my late maternal grandfather, Malam Musa Nagari (d. circa 2017), took me to Malam Idi Nakamaku’s Makarantar allo (a traditional Quranic school) in the Gandun Sarki quarters of Jama’are town, where I was enrolled as a Titibiri (an elementary student). He purchased a new allo (a wooden slate used as a hand-held writing board by students) for me, which I guessed he bought from the Jama’are weekly market. 

Even though they weren’t the same age, I realized that Allaramma Malam Idi and my Malam Musa Nagari were good friends. 

I was already enrolled in Abdulkadir Ahmed Primary School (formerly known as Zango Kanti Primary School). I usually attend the afternoon session at Malam Idi’s school alone with his regular Almajirai (students), most of whom come from nearby and distant towns and villages around Jama’are. 

That was a foundational journey I first had in Islamic studies. 

Sometimes, my maternal grandfather, Malam Musa Nagari, would lead me to school, hand me over to Allaramma, and jokingly say, ‘Ga dalibinka, Dan Izala’ (here is your student, member of Izala). This is because my father had already been a member of Izala (JIBWIS) since the early 1980s. (For an exploration of this statement and the struggle for religious space between Izala and other Sufi groups in Jama’are, see my MA thesis, ‘A History of JIBWIS/Izala in Jama’are, 1986-2015,’ submitted to the Department of History at Bayero University Kano in 2022.)

That was the start of it. Since then, whenever Malam sees me or I pass by him, he calls out, ‘babban dalibi’ (a senior student), even though I stopped attending his school when I was at the Titibiri level. True to form, he asks, ‘ya karatu’ (how’s studies), now referring to conventional education, and concludes with, ‘Allah ya yi albarka’ (may God bless).

As Malam is no longer with us, I will miss his prayers. Whenever I’m in Jama’are, I can hardly pass by Malam without stopping to greet him, and he has always been generous with his usual prayers.

Malam Musa Nagari and Malam Nakamaku have been a school for me. They have been a veritable source of inspiration. 

Malam Nagari, though a grandfather, was a no-nonsense type. We rarely exchanged banter, unlike typical grandparents in a Hausa/Fulani setting like Jama’are. He was a disciplinarian in the real sense of the word. Although we spent a lot of time together at home, on the farm, and in his vocation of building houses, that familiarity did not breach any contempt, as they say. Malam Musa Nagari once told me something I knew was intended to inspire me. ‘Ibrahim, let me tell you. Do you see my farms in their numbers? I only inherited one from my parents…’. This is a way of telling a teenager to ‘be hardworking’!

From Malam Idi Nakamaku, I learned the principle of goodwill. Even though I left his school to probably join Izala Islamiyya, Malam Idi has never stopped considering me his student, referring to me with the term baban dalibi. This has never been a source of concern for him; he simply wants to know how I’m progressing, even at the conventional school level. Malam never ceases to ask such questions; the last time we met was last year during Eid el-Kabir. 

To me, Malam Idi Nakamaku’s life epitomized an enduring commitment to promoting Quranic studies (what a blessed life!). It symbolizes selflessness and service to humanity, along with complete submission to the will of God. I believe Malam Idi Nakamaku embodies the traditional classical eclectic ascetic lifestyle characterized by Zuhd (asceticism or self-denial to achieve Ridhal Allah, meaning God’s pleasure) of early Sufi scholars, which continues to endure into this century.

The demise of Allaramma Malam Idi Nakamaku on March 4, 2025, was a great loss and, indeed, irreparable to the entire Jama’are Emirate. May his soul, along with that of his good friend Malam Musa Nagari, continue to rest in Janna til Firdaus.

Ibrahim Sulaiman (Jama’are) wrote from Abuja via ibrahimsulaiman193@gmail.com.

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

MashaAllah. As the crescent moon rose to herald Ramadan this year, on this twentieth day of March 2025, a profound stillness has settled over me. The fast silences my body’s clamor, the long nights of prayer elevate my spirit toward the heavens, and my thoughts drift into the boundless expanse of the unseen. This Ramadan, I find myself wrestling with the nature of dimensions—what they signify, how they shape our fleeting lives, and how death might unlock realms beyond our earthly reach. 

The Qur’an unveils glimpses of this mystery: seven heavens layered in divine order, Jannah’s gardens of eternal serenity, Jahannam’s depths watched by stern guardians, and Allah’s timeless, infinite dominion. The number four—etched into our 4D reality and echoed in a hadith debate I explored last week—anchors my reflection, while the nineteen of Surah Al-Muddathir, mirrored in the nineteen letters of *Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim*, stirs my soul. Could death guide us through a cosmic graveyard of stars into these dimensions, as some now ponder in awe?

Let us begin with dimensions as we experience them in this Duniya, this transient abode. We dwell within three spatial dimensions—length, width, and height. A minaret pierces the twilight sky; its shadow stretches wide across the sun-warmed earth, and its foundations sink deep into the soil. Time, the fourth dimension, flows relentlessly forward, a current bearing us from the first whispered adhan of Fajr to the tranquil hush of Isha. 

These four—three of space and one of time—form our 4D reality, a spacetime framework we navigate with every breath and every step we take. Yet science, with its insatiable curiosity, gazes beyond this familiar quartet, proposing extra dimensions—ten, eleven, or perhaps far more—coiled tightly at scales too tiny for our eyes to discern or sprawling across unseen planes our hands cannot grasp. These are not mere directions to wander but subtle layers, bending the forces of gravity, energy, or the very essence of creation in ways that stretch our comprehension.

In 2018, a Northern Nigerian Hausa broadcasting Television Station, Arewa24, in a documentary about space named black hole mutuwaren taurari (Mortuary of Stars), but I preferred mak’abartar taurari—the Graveyard of Stars—as a more evocative term. Here, death is a profound key, a passage to what lies beyond. In this 4D shell, we are tethered—our physical forms bound to the limits of space, our lives measured by the steady march of time. 

The Qur’an, however, assures us that the soul, the ruh, endures beyond this fragile vessel. When we die, might that soul break free, slipping into a fifth dimension, a sixth, or even further—realms where Jannah’s rivers ripple with mercy and Jahannam’s fires blaze with justice, domains veiled from us until Malak al-Mawt, the Angel of Death, carries us across the threshold? 

Physics offers a faint echo of this possibility: higher dimensions might surround us, omnipresent yet inaccessible, hidden behind a veil that only death can part. Some astronomers link each soul to a star wandering the cosmos; when a person dies, their star might collapse into this graveyard, bearing their ruh along. Could this black hole be a portal, a barzakh, where dimensions unfold beyond our sight?

The Qur’an sketches this vastness with strokes of majesty. “He who created seven heavens in layers,” proclaims Surah Al-Mulk (67:3), urging us to reflect on the nature of these layers. Are they celestial skies arching above our world, glowing in the twilight? Or could they be universes, dimensional planes, each distinct yet interconnected, ascending beyond our perception into a hierarchy only Allah fully comprehends? 

Our 4D reality, with its glittering stars and sprawling earth, might be the “lowest heaven,” as Surah As-Saffat (37:6) suggests, with its adorned lights, while six more heavens rise above, reachable only when death turns the lock. Time, too, bends in Allah’s presence—Surah Al-Ma’arij (70:4) likens a day with Him to fifty thousand years of our earthly counting. In these higher dimensions, time might not flow as we know it; it could stretch into an endless horizon, loop upon itself, or fold into an eternal now—a reality death alone might usher us into.

Yet it is the number four that steadies my wandering mind, a pattern I cannot unsee. Just last week, in *The Eternal Quartet: Understanding the Hadith Debate in Northern Nigeria*, I wrote of a debate stirring Northern Nigeria’s Muslim online space—Shaykh Prof. Ibrahim Saeed Ahmad Maqari and Shaykh Prof. Sani Rijiyar Lemo clashing over the degree of certainty in different categories of Hadith rather than dismissing their essence outright. 

I framed the scholars’ dispute through four lenses: reason, belief, doubt, and rejection, a quartet mirrored in Islam’s four legal schools—Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi’i, Hanbali—and four theological paths—Mu’tazila, Ash’ari, Maturidi, Athari. Maqari, with his Ash’ari and Maliki roots, demands the unshakable certainty of Mutawatir hadiths, those narrated by many, while Rijiyar Lemo, grounded in Athari and Salafi trust, upholds authentic Ahad narrations with strong chains, even if from fewer sources. Four emerged as a complete, balanced square: Maqari’s logic seeking widespread proof, Rijiyar Lemo’s faith in vetted tradition, the doubters’ hesitant questions, the rejectors’ outright dismissal. As I dwell in our 4D spacetime, I see it again—four as our foundation, the root from which higher dimensions might grow, a motif threading through faith, nature, and the human heart.

Then comes a piercing verse—Surah Al-Muddathir (74:30): “Alaiha tis‘ata ‘ashar”—“Over it are nineteen.” Nineteen angels guard Jahannam, their number stark and resonant, a mystery that stirs my soul to its core. Are these guardians confined to our 4D frame, or do they stride across dimensions, overseeing a hell that burns beyond our spacetime? This deepens when I count the letters in Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim—ب س م ا ل ل ه ا ل ر ح م ن ا ل ر ح ي م—nineteen in all, the sacred invocation that opens every surah but one. Could this parallel—nineteen angels, nineteen letters—hint at more, perhaps 19 dimensions woven within or alongside the seven heavens? Science freely posits dimensions; string theory suggests ten or eleven, but the Qur’an’s seven and nineteen numbers carry a divine weight. From our 4D base, the seven heavens might rise as broad realms, each enfolding finer layers, totaling 19—a cosmic framework death unveils, where the nineteen serve as eternal watchmen.

Consider the black hole, this mak’abartar taurari. Could it be barzakh, a liminal space bridging dimensions? Does it cradle Jannah’s tranquility or Jahannam’s torment? Some wonder: might the Day of Judgment spring from this starry graveyard, an event science cannot yet name, where fallen stars—and souls—rise into new dimensions? We perceive only four in this Duniya, but black holes might harbor twelve, as some speculate. Add seven for Jahannam’s planes, and we reach 19—four we know, eight in Barzakh’s depths, seven in Saqar’s fire, guarded by nineteen, as Allah declares, “Alaiha tis‘ata ‘ashar”. Last century, scholars like Khalifa Rashad stirred debate with new readings of this verse—could it point to such a cosmic order?

Envision it: our 4D reality as the first heaven, rooted in four—length, width, height, and time. Six more heavens ascend, each a dimensional cluster, totaling 19 with Barzakh and Jahannam’s layers. Surah Fussilat (41:12) says each heaven has its command—unique laws across these planes, from fifth to nineteenth. His Kursi (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:255) spans them, the nineteen as sentinels in its scope. The Qur’an says the soul’s end wanders in the space between the dimensions of fire (dread) or peace (natsuwa). Death might thrust us through mak’abartar taurari into these 19, where nineteen angels stand guard.

As Taraweeh’s verses wash over me this Ramadan, I feel four and nineteen entwined. If 19 dimensions veil Jannah, Jahannam, or more, might they host others—angels, jinn, beings unseen? Science puzzles at silence; death might unveil a chorus. In sujood, fasting’s clarity sharpens this: the Qur’an bids us marvel. Whether seven heavens hold 19 dimensions via a starry graveyard, death is our key—a mercy cloaked as an end.

Breaking my fast, dates sweet with Jannah’s echo, I feel tethered to this vastness. Our 4D world—fourfold in dimensions and thought—is a breath, a shadow of Allah’s infinite craft. Ramadan 2025 is my pilgrimage—through hunger, hope, and “Alaiha tis‘ata ‘ashar”, mirrored in Bismillahir Rahmanir Rahim—toward a reality where death, from our fourfold root, opens the door to seven heavens, nineteen dimensions, and Allah’s eternal truth. Allah Shine masani.

By Muhammad Sulaiman

Spanish football prodigy Lamine Yamal is set to make history as the first player in the Spain national team to observe fasting during Ramadan while on international duty.

According to reports, the 16-year-old winger has chosen to fast as a mark of respect for his family’s Muslim traditions.

Despite his young age, Yamal has already made headlines as one of the most promising talents in European football, and his commitment to both his faith and his career has drawn admiration from fans.

The Barcelona star’s decision highlights the growing diversity within Spanish football, as well as the increasing visibility of Muslim athletes who balance professional sports with religious observances.

Spain’s coaching staff is expected to accommodate Yamal’s needs during the fasting period, as has been the case with Muslim players in other top European teams.

Ramadan, the holiest month in Islam, involves fasting from dawn to sunset, posing a unique challenge for athletes. However, many Muslim footballers have successfully managed their performance during the holy month.

Yamal’s choice to fast reflects not only his personal devotion but also the broader cultural representation within Spain’s national squad.

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

A few comments about the ongoing Ramadan Tafsir at the Palace of the Emir of Kano conducted by Sheikh Qaribullah Nasir Kabara (translator, Qadriyyah) and Muhammad Hadi Gwani (reciter, Tijjaniyya) brought back nostalgic memories for many people. The conversation was started by Muhsin Ibrahim. Perhaps only those living or having lived in Kano may probably know of this Tafsir that has been consistently going on since about the 1940s, shifting location only once, from Chiranci to Kofar Kudu in Kano. On Sunday, 16 Ramadan/March 2025, I was part of a TV discussion on the Tafsir and its meaning to me. This was what promoted this sharing of memories. 

Tafsir is the scholarly interpretation and explanation of the Quran. It helps to clarify the meanings of verses, their context, linguistic nuances, and the reasons for their revelation. The combo of Sheikh Qaribullah Kabara and Sheikh Hadi Gwani in Kano is one of the hundreds of Tafsirs conducted during Ramadan in Islamicate northern Nigeria. 

Each individual has their preferences for the reciter/translator combo. Mine, inherited from my father, was for the Kabara Tafsir. The reason is up close and personal. I was born on 14th Ramadan 1375, or 25th April 1956. My father was informed of my arrival while he was at the Tafsir in the inner chambers of the Emir of Kano’s Palace near the reciters. My father was a Qadiriyya adherent and disciple of Malam Nasiru Kabara. 

The nostalgia was ignited by Muhsin’s reflections of Surah Yusuf, which was recited on the 9th day of every Ramadan. Perhaps the Surah draws the largest crowd apart from the day of the ending of the Tafsir (Hattama). I have always marveled at why there is a surge of attendees on any day the Surah is being recited/translated. I remember being annoyed one year when I was slightly late and had to virtually push and shove through a huge crowd – often “standing room” only – to get to my reserved seat deep in the open space of the Place just before the door leading to the “Soron Isa” antechamber. All eager to listen to Surah Yusuf. 

Significantly, the Juz’i containing the Surah ends on Ayat 52. But on Friday, 17th December 1999/9th Ramadan 1420, as I noted in my own copy of Yusuf Ali’s Translation of the Holy Qur’an, which I used as a guide in following the recitation, Sheikh Qaribullah suggested to complete the Surah to its 111 Ayats to maintain the narrative structure and continuity of its events. Thus, on the day, the Tafsir lasts longer than on other normal days, while the Tafsir on the following day, starting directly with Surah Al Ra’ad, always ends up being the shortest night of the Tafsir. 

There are many reasons for the attachment of thousands of people – some who attend the Tafsīr on the Surah Yusuf day only. While this has many lessons, I will examine it from an ethnographic perspective. The story of the travails of Prophet Yusuf has one central cultural importance to the Hausa – “haƙuri can dafa dutse”/Patience is a virtue. This was indeed played out by the way Prophet Yusuf went through so many challenges in life – simply because of the stupendous natural beauty bestowed on him by Allah (SWT) to begin with. 

But his trials centered around what I call “yan ubantaka,” sibling rivalry and jealousy inherent among siblings of different mothers. This is a theme in Hausa family structures where offspring sharing only a father seem almost always at each other’s throats. Of course, not all households are like this – I am sure you know some households with perfect harmony, despite different mothers (might even be your own particular circumstance). However, the general experience of many Hausa is precisely as described in Surah Yusuf – bitter rivalry towards the more outstanding brother – whether junior or senior. Attendees of the Tafsir, therefore, get solace at the spiritual formula and lesson of patience and perseverance and go home uplifted that, as for Prophet Yusuf, “komai nisan dare, gare zai waye”/there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. 

Another significant historical moment in the Kabara Tafsir was what I called The Switch. On 29th March 1990,equivalent to 3rd Ramadan 1410, while reading Surah Al-Ma’idah, Ayat 20, Mal. Nasiru stopped the translation. With an emotionally charged voice, he prayed for the Emir Alhaji Ado Bayero (the host of the Tafsir). Then he informed the congregation that the Emir had given permission for Qaribullah Nasiru Kabara to continue the translations. The massive roar of Allahu Akbar takbir startled the mass of Swallows (Bilbilo) perching on the trees in the Emir’s mangrove area (Sheka), where they took off en mass. It was indeed an emotional moment. Right away, Mal. Qaribullah took over the translations, and in a well-synchronized manner, Mal. Hadi led him through the recitation, changing the tonalities of his recitation with Mal. Qaribullah matching him tone for tone. More Takbirs followed every hill and valley of their voices. It was a truly historic moment. 

Finally, a massive controversy concerning filming the story of the Prophet Yusuf erupted in Kano in 2009. Luckily, it was not from Kannywood producers, who, aware of the prohibitions of depicting prophets of Allah in any visual form, dared not even attempt it. However, in 2009, a TV series, Yousuf-e-Payambar or Joseph, the Prophet, was screened at the 2009 Cannes Film festival. The 45-episode series was produced by Sima Film Productions, an affiliate of the Islamic Republic of Iran Broadcasting (IRIB). 

Although the series’ dialogue was in Persian, soon enough, the Lebanese Al Manar TV station, owned by the Shi’a Hezbollah, started re-broadcasting the series with Arab dub-over voices of the Farsi dialogue, and became available through the Middle East satellite TV networks. It was a Shi’a TV show, since apparently in the Shi’a understanding of Islam, there was nothing wrong with depicting Prophets in any visual medium. Further, the story of Prophet Joseph had universal constants that made it appealing throughout the Muslim world, regardless of doctrinal inclination. 

In the summer of 2009, a young Muslim Hausa student studying at the Al-Azhar University in Cairo somehow downloaded the entire Yousuf-e Payambar series with Arabic voice-over dubbing in his laptop and brought it to CD marketers in Kano, the biggest commercial centre in northern Nigeria. In Kano, somehow, it was dubbed over in the Hausa language. It was an instant hit. The marketers subsequently copied the series into eight-volume DVDs and released them to traffic light markets common in most African urban centers.

However, no sooner had the DVDs entered the market than two prominent Muslim clerics in the Shari’a State of Kano appeared on public radio and condemned the Series. These were Sheikh Amin Daurawa and Sheikh Ibrahim Khalil, the latter of whom was the Chairman of the powerful Kano State Council of Ulama. In their ‘fatwa’ – Islamic ruling – echoing the Al-Azhar proscription of visually representing a Prophet of Allah (SWT), they argued it is prohibited to depict any Prophet in any form visually. The basic problem was that while Shi’a filmmakers produced the Prophet Yusuf TV series, the consumers in Kano were Sunni and did not make the sublime distinction about the interdiction of prophetic images between Sunni and Shi’ite interpretations of Islam.

The fatwa resulted in the Kano State Censorship Board’s banning the sales of Joseph the Prophet DVDs and arresting and prosecuting marketers and vendors who sold the DVDs. However, while the series was banned in Kano, it became readily available in neighboring States, especially Kaduna and Bauchi, where Shari’a law was implemented more flexibly.

The Kabara Tafsir is available on the YouTube Channel I created specifically for it. So look for it if interested. If you want to know more about the controversies and censorship of the Prophet Yusuf CDs in Kano, read my article, “Controversies and restrictions of visual representation of prophets in northern Nigerian popular culture.” March 2017. Journal of African Media Studies 9(1):17-31. The journal publishers don’t want their articles on academic social media networks (ASMN),but they say nothing about personal sites! So, if you want to download the entire paper, it is Acibilistically available at this link.

For those old enough, there is also an Egyptian poster of the Prophet Yusuf/Zulaykha in the presence of her husband, al-Aziz (Potiphar) encounter (fully depicted in the TV series) which, together with other Prophets and saints, were also freely sold in Kano in the 1960s. This gives a historical perspective to how artists tried to portray this popular Islamic narrative in popular culture. The poster is in the article.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

Kano State Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf reinforced his administration’s dedication to fostering religious harmony and development during an Iftar gathering at the Government House on Saturday, which celebrated the 15th day of Ramadan. 

The event welcomed prominent members of the Council of Ulama and Imams, offering a platform to strengthen unity and recognize the vital role of religious leaders in promoting peace within the community. 

In a significant announcement, Governor Yusuf revealed plans to transform the Kofar Mata Eid Prayer Ground into an International Islamic Conference Centre. He explained that the venue, utilized only twice a year for Islamic gatherings, will be repurposed into a world-class facility to support ongoing religious activities, scholarly discussions, and community engagement. 

“The foundation stone-laying ceremony for the Centre is set to occur two weeks after Eid al-Fitr, after which it will be handed over to the Ulama for management,” the governor stated, outlining his vision for a lasting religious infrastructure in the state. 

Additionally, Governor Yusuf affirmed his commitment to renovating all Friday mosques across Kano State and ensuring they meet proper worship standards. He instructed the Commissioner for Religious Affairs to compile a list of mosques requiring urgent government intervention. 

In further developments, a new, larger Friday Mosque at the Government House is currently under construction. It aims to accommodate more worshippers and enhance spiritual activities in the region. 

Expressing gratitude for the ongoing support of religious leaders, Governor Yusuf urged them to continue promoting unity and peaceful coexistence among the populace, highlighting the importance of collaboration between government and religious institutions. 

During the gathering, Sheikh Muhammad Nasir Adam, Imam of Sheikh Ahmad Tijjani Mosque, praised the governor’s vision, emphasizing Islam’s encouragement of charitable acts, such as feeding those who fast and nurturing places of worship. 

He reassured the governor of the Ulama’s steadfast support and prayers for the advancement of Kano State. Members of the Shari’a Commission, the Executive Council, and other distinguished figures attended the Iftar event. 

Governor Yusuf reiterated his administration’s strong ties with the Council of Ulama, assuring them that their contributions will continuously inform government policies to ensure lasting peace, stability, and religious harmony in Kano State. 

By Muhsin Ibrahim

World leaders, including United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres, took to social media on Friday to mark the International Day to Combat Islamophobia, calling for unity and action against discrimination.

In a post on X (formerly Twitter), Guterres emphasized the need to address rising anti-Muslim hate worldwide. “Islamophobia is an affront to human rights and the values of the UN. We must stand together to promote tolerance, understanding, and mutual respect,” he wrote.

Several heads of state and government officials echoed similar sentiments. Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau reaffirmed his country’s commitment to fighting religious discrimination, while Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan called for global solidarity against Islamophobia.

The International Day to Combat Islamophobia was designated by the UN in 2022 and is observed annually on March 15. It aims to raise awareness of prejudice against Muslims and promote inclusive societies.

Advocacy groups have urged governments to go beyond statements and implement concrete policies to tackle hate crimes and discrimination against Muslims.

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

Last week, the Muslim online community in Northern Nigeria was abuzz with a debate between two prominent scholars: Shaykh Prof. Ibrahim Saeed Ahmad Maqari, Imam of the National Mosque, and Shaykh Prof. Sani Rijiyar Lemo, a well-known teacher and writer. They are discussing hadiths—sayings of the Prophet Muhammad—and their reliability. 

Maqari insists that only Mutawatir hadiths, which are passed down by many narrators, are certain. In contrast, Ahad hadiths, coming from fewer narrators, lack certainty; Da’if hadiths are doubtful; and Maudu’ hadiths are fabricated. Rijiyar Lemo argues that Ahad hadiths with strong chains—like those found in Bukhari or Muslim—are as trustworthy as Mutawatir hadiths, also rejecting both Da’if and Maudu’ hadiths.

This may appear to be a new split in Islam, but it isn’t. It’s an old debate reemerging, reflecting four fundamental ways we think: reason, belief, doubt, and rejection. Maqari and Rijiyar Lemo each adhere to one of four classic Muslim paths. Let’s simplify it to demonstrate that this isn’t a crisis—it’s just part of our nature.

The Scholars’ Stances: Old Roots, Modern Voices

Maqari aligns with the Ash’ari and Maliki approach. He’s cautious: only Mutawatir hadiths, widely shared and undeniable, confirm the Prophet’s words, especially for core beliefs. Ahad might be true but aren’t certain, Da’if are shaky, and Maudu’ are fabrications. His stance is logical, demanding solid proof.

Rijiyar Lemo takes the Athari and Salafi route. He’s straightforward: Ahad hadiths with strong chains are as good as Mutawatir—no need for a crowd if the narrators are reliable. He discards Da’if and Maudu’, trusting the vetting process.

This echoes a thousand years of Muslim thought, split into four theological groups—Mu’tazila, Ash’ari, Maturidi, Athari—and four legal schools—Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi’i, Hanbali. Maqari’s Ash’ari/Maliki; Rijiyar Lemo’s Athari/Salafi. The others linger in the background, forming four ways to see faith.

 The Fourfold Lens: A Universal Impulse

This isn’t just about hadiths—it’s how we view everything, through four lenses:

– Reason: “Prove it—how many narrators? Are they solid?” Maqari’s fans value his logic, insisting on Mutawatir’s wide agreement for certainty over Ahad’s limited sources.

– Belief: “My scholar says it’s true.” Rijiyar Lemo’s supporters trust a single Sahabi’s word if the chain is sound, no extra proof needed—just faith in the process.

– Doubt: “Are we sure? What if it’s wrong?” Questions linger for those unsure about either side.

– Rejection: “This is outdated nonsense.” Some walk away entirely.

Northern Nigeria’s Muslim online space shows all four: some cite Mutawatir facts for Maqari, others trust Rijiyar Lemo’s Salafi roots, a few question both, and some dismiss it outright. These align with the four schools, too. Picture a grid—reason on one side, revelation on the other—yielding four pairs:

– Reason + Reason: Hanafi and Mu’tazila  

  Hanafis use analogy and judgment for rules; Mu’tazila apply logic to beliefs like free will. They’re strict: theology needs Mutawatir or Ahad with three-plus narrators; rules use authenticated Azizi (strong Ahad). Reason leads.

– Reason + Revelation: Maliki and Ash’ari

  Malikis mix reason with Medina’s practices; Ash’aris back faith—like God’s traits—with logic. Maqari fits here: Mutawatir for beliefs, authenticated Ahad for rules like prayer times. Revelation guides reason.

– Revelation + Reason: Shafi’i and Maturidi

 Shafi’is prioritize hadiths and Qur’an, sorted logically; Maturidis use reason within scripture’s bounds. Mutawatir for theology, authenticated Ahad for rules like fasting. Revelation’s first, reason aids.

– Revelation + Revelation: Hanbali and Athari

Hanbalis stick to texts; Atharis take the Qur’an and hadiths as is. Rijiyar Lemo’s here: authentic Mutawatir or Ahad work for both beliefs and rules. Revelation rules.

Maqari’s Ash’ari/Maliki stance demands Mutawatir for certainty; Rijiyar Lemo’s Athari/Salafi view accepts authentic Ahad.

Four Across the Ages

Four isn’t just in this debate—it’s a pattern across time and cultures. In the West, psychologist Carl Jung saw four as a symbol of wholeness, like in mandalas or personality types—thinking, feeling, sensing, and intuiting. Stephen R. Covey’s four quadrants divide tasks by urgency and importance, offering a complete way to manage life. Game theory maps four outcomes—win/win, win/lose, lose/win, lose/lose—covering all possibilities in decisions, much like Karl Popper’s fourfold reasoning tests ideas through trial, error, doubt, and rejection. Four directions—north, south, east, west—guide us; four elements—fire, earth, air, water—once explained the world; four schools shape Islam. Even a Sudanese Sufi song by Abdurrahim Albur’iy, Misr al-Mu’mina, celebrates four in nature and Islamic history:

“We call upon You with the four and the four books,  

And the 114 surahs [Qur’an],  

With the six angels and the four noble ones,  

With our Prophet Muhammad and the four caliphs,  

And the six after them and the four imams,  

And the seven jurists and our four poles,  

The pegs of the earth in the four directions,  

The substitutes and the ten chiefs in four,  

Preserve my three and four limbs,  

And keep our four sides from the resting place,  

Remove the body’s illness in its four temperaments,  

Bless our week until Wednesday (fourth day),  

The ninety days of the year in four,  

And our seven seas and our four rivers,  

We are saved from four and gathered with four.”

Fours—caliphs, books, rivers—tie faith and life together across time.

Philosophy Meets Faith: Why Four?

Why four? It’s simple and complete. Two (yes/no) is too basic, three (yes/maybe/no) lacks balance, and five’s cluttered. Four’s just right: two ways to agree (reason, belief), one to question (doubt), one to reject. Like a square, it’s steady, covering all sides—seen in nature, history, and our debates.

Nothing New Under the Sun

Don’t let Northern Nigeria’s Muslim online space hype fool you—this is old news. Ash’ari scholars like al-Ghazali sought proof, like Maqari; Athari ones like Ibn Taymiyya trusted texts, like Rijiyar Lemo. Mu’tazila favored reason; Maturidi blended it with faith. Four schools, four views—same as today.

It’s loud now because Maqari’s at the National Mosque, and Rijiyar Lemo’s books reach many. People care about the Prophet’s words. But it’s not a new split—just two notes in an old four-part tune.

Takeaway: Embrace the Quartet

Don’t worry about this debate. It’s not Islam breaking—it’s alive, with views fitting four natural slots: Maqari’s logic, Rijiyar Lemo’s trust, plus doubt and rejection. Next time Northern Nigeria’s Muslim online space heats up—over hadiths or anything—spot these four: thinkers, believers, questioners, and naysayers, blending into many combinations. It’s how we work. Maqari and Rijiyar Lemo pick two corners of a square we’ve all been drawing forever. It’s not chaos—it’s our pattern.

By Ammar M. Rajab

The recent uproar among some Nigerian Christians over the decision by the states of Katsina, Kebbi, and Bauchi to close schools for the holy month of Ramadan serves as yet another reminder of the deep-seated prejudice that certain Christians in Nigeria have toward anything associated with Islam and Muslims. This decision to observe the holiday is neither new nor illegal; it is well within the rights of these states, just as Christian-majority states regularly declare holidays during Christian celebrations.

Let me be clear — the schools are not closing arbitrarily. This decision is part of the officially approved academic calendar and coincides with the globally recognized Islamic holy month. Ramadan is not just about fasting; it is a profoundly spiritual time when Muslims dedicate themselves to prayer, charity, and community service. In a region where the vast majority are Muslims, it is reasonable to make space for religious observance. Why, then, does this simple act provoke such unnecessary outrage from some Christian voices?

This hypocrisy becomes even more pronounced when one considers that Christian-majority states have done the same, if not more. Just a few months ago, in December 2024, the Governor of Benue State, Hyacinth Alia, declared a two-week holiday for civil servants to celebrate Christmas and New Year. Nobody raised an eyebrow. This is not unusual.

Cross River State has also been declaring extended holidays for Christmas and the famous Calabar Carnival since 2004. These are Christian holidays observed in Christian-majority states, and nobody labels it religious bigotry. But when Muslim states exercise the same right, it suddenly becomes a national scandal. Why the double standard?

This selective outrage reflects the deep-seated bigotry that some Nigerian Christians have toward Muslims. Any policy, tradition, or cultural expression associated with Islam is instantly deemed backward, oppressive, or indicative of religious dominance. In contrast, similar practices from Christian communities are regarded as cultural pride and religious freedom. Why this hypocrisy? Why the persistent anger whenever Muslim states make decisions that align with their people’s beliefs? What exactly is the issue?

Enough is enough. Nigerian Muslims are not second-class citizens. The constitution guarantees freedom of religion and allows states to make decisions that reflect their people’s cultural and religious identities. If Christian states can observe Christian holidays without controversy, then Muslim states can observe Islamic holidays without needing to apologize to anyone. No group has a monopoly on public holidays, religious expression, or cultural identity.

It’s time for Nigerian Christians who participate in this unnecessary provocation to cease this religious bigotry. Live and let live. Respect the rights of others just as you expect your own rights to be respected. Nigeria is a multi-religious, multi-ethnic country, and it can only thrive when we all honour each other’s beliefs and traditions.

If you can celebrate Christmas and Easter with state-backed holidays in Benue, Cross River, and many other Christian-majority states, then Muslims can celebrate Ramadan in their own way as well. Anything less is not just hypocrisy—it’s outright bigotry. And it’s time for all of us to say: enough is enough.

Ammar M. Rajab wrote from Kaduna, Nigeria.

By Umar Sheikh Tahir

Al-Azhar was commissioned on the 9th of Ramadan 361H/ 972AD by the Fatimids in Cairo, Egypt. The name is derived from the holy Prophet’s (PBUH) daughter’s name, Fatimah al-Zahrā alayha al-Salam. The institution is one of the most prominent centers of Sunni Islam in the Muslim world. It serves as both a mosque and a university, and it is recognized as the world’s first university operating initially inside the grand mosque of al-Azhar. 

The institution is a beacon of our enduring legacy and tradition, showcasing our continuous connection and shared heritage. Its services extend not only to educational, spiritual, and theosophical but also humanitarian services to mankind around the globe. It is followed by Zaytuna in Tunisia and Qarawiyin in Morocco. 

As we celebrate the 1085th anniversary of Al-Azhar’s establishment, this article recognizes the significant contributions of Nigerians in the past and Al-Azhar’s contributions to our educational system in contemporary northern Nigeria. Finally, it highlights Al-Azhar alumni who have been instrumental in providing valuable services and whose excellence has made our nation proud. 

1.     Royal Contributions to Al-Azhar in the Past

Classical Azhar constituted several Ruwaq or Arwiqah Corridors/Hostels. These Corridors were named to symbolize the strong ties to some nations worldwide. A few of these names were dedicated to West African communities, such as “Ruwāq al-Barnāwī,” “Ruwaq Dakarinah Darfur,” “Ruwaq al-Barābirah,” and “Ruwaq al-Dakārinah Salih.” These names primarily related to precolonial Saharan and Sub-Saharan empire states, currently representing West African nation states. The closest to Nigeria is Ruwāq al-Barnawi, honoring Black African students from the Kanem Borno subregion in modern-day Northern Nigeria. This medieval hostel now serves as a lecture hall. This recognition stemmed from the strong relationships between Al-Azhar’s leadership and the Kanem Borno royal family. 

Mai Idris b. ‘Alī (1564-1596) spent tons of gold in Cairo, some of which went to endowing the Al-Azhar institution alongside other expenses such as hostels for Borno students and lodges for Kanem-Borno pilgrims to Hajj. This gesture echoes the famous history of Mansa Musa, who made gold depreciate by 25% in Cairo during his famous Hajj travel and stayover. 

Another substantial endowment was the Ibn al-Rashiq School, founded with support from Kanem Borno during the Ayyubi regime in 567-648/around the 12th AD. The institution served as a school and provided services to Hajj travelers from the Kanem-Borno area. In the 18^th century, Muhammad bn Muhammad al-Fullānī Al-Kashnāwī’s impactful visit and teaching at Al-Azhar Mosque showcased the enduring influence he had on the institution and its scholars. He was so esteemed that they pursued him to stay until the end of his life, and he was buried in the Graveyard called Bustān al-Ulamā. 

 2. Al-Azhar’s Global Services

Since its inception, Al-Azhar has connected with the world, including our locality, in many ways. Al-Azhar sends teachers to the United States of America, Europe, Asian nations, African countries, and remote rural places. They were sent to the elementary and high schools worldwide, including Nigeria, to teach Islamic studies, the Arabic language, Basic Sciences, and Technology. Nigeria received more than a hundred teachers before, but the number recently decreased to less than 40 teachers due to insurgencies, as I inquired through the Embassy last year. 

However, in May 2016, the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar, Shaykh Ahmad al-Tayyib, visited Nigeria. During his visit, he announced increased scholarships for Nigerian students to Al-Azhar University, covering not only Islamic sciences and humanities but also natural sciences, technology, engineering, and medical schools.

3. Celebrating Excellent Nigerian Alumni in the Past and the Present

I cannot celebrate this milestone without acknowledging some Azhar alumni who have made Nigerians proud. This section highlights the achievements of selected Nigerian students, both past and present, who have excelled there, showcasing their academic prowess and impact on Nigerian society, especially those in prominent national positions.

Among the notable contemporary alums, Ambassador Abdullahi Yalleman and Dr. Hadi Sheikh Tahir graduated at the top of their classes. The former had the honor of receiving his award from former Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, while the latter was accepted as a Ph.D. student directly from Al-Azhar to the University of Glasgow in Scotland. 

I apologize for not listing more excellent names here, as many deserving individuals come to mind among the outstanding alums I know personally. I will briefly mention a few sectors where Azhar alumni contribute to our society. For instance, most university lecturers, especially in the linguistics and Islamic studies departments, and leaders of colleges of education, are Azhar graduates. The leading Imam of the National Mosque and the founder of the first female-only university in Nigeria is also an Al-Azhar alumnus. Indeed, in the late 1940s, Nigerians celebrated the first female student admitted to the University of Ibadan, and now look at where we are with the contributions of Azharis. 

The leadership of the Sheikh Tahir Bauchi Islamic Center for Quranic Memorization and Islamic Studies consists of Azharis, including the Chairman, Vice Chairman, Secretary, and several directors, all of whom are graduates of al-Azhar. In fact, the Director of Education and School Services for this foundation oversees over 1,500 schools across West African countries and is also an Azhari. The world’s wealthiest Black person is Nigerian and among the alums of al-Azhar. Additionally, the former world champion of Arabic poetry in Abu Dhabi in 2022 is a Nigerian Azhari from Kano. You can also find them in mosques, performing well and serving local communities everywhere. The list can go on and on. 

This brief exploration has inspired me to write in detail in the future to celebrate our local leaders who are Azhar alumni and provide services to our beloved nation through various mediums.  

4. Hausa Language in Al-Azhar Media

Hausa was selected among other languages to serve as a medium of broadcast on Azhar Media TV for educational, intellectual, and spiritual enrichment, as well as to promote peace, featuring standard Islamic texts that cover all sciences in local languages worldwide. Nigerian students were among the qualified scholars leading these teachings for the benefit of Hausa-speaking communities in West Africa. This initiative was part of the office of former Mufti Prof. Emeritus Shaykh Ali Jum`ah, aiming to advocate for Al-Azhar’s methodology of moderate Islam in opposition to extremist views that fuel insurgencies. It was planned that the audio and video content of these teachings would be distributed to local Hausa-speaking communities. 

Today, I extend my congratulations to our Grand Imam, the alumni, and the wider Muslim community on this anniversary. As I reflect on my graduation from Al-Azhar 15 years ago, I appreciate the significance of 1,085 years of intellectual pursuit, the creation of a lasting legacy, engagement with global intellectual institutions, and the dissemination of knowledge throughout the world. 

I join the parents of our children in these urban and rural communities, along with Nigerian students in Azhar receiving full scholarships with free accommodations, in expressing our gratitude to the leadership and administration of Azhar and those Azhar teachers. The Egyptian embassies process the teachers’ paperwork, manage their placements, and report to the leadership above them—our dear Grand Imam. 

Thank you, Azhar, with our spirits before our tongues, and may God preserve you for the Ummah of Islam!

Umar Sheikh Tahir is a PhD Candidate at Columbia University, New York, USA. He can be reached via ust2102@columbia.edu.