Muslims

By Ibrahim Suleiman Ibrahim 

It is part of my dreams to one day establish a female-only sports & gymnastics centre that would be managed and run by females, where taking pictures and videos during training sessions would be strictly prohibited.

This is to disprove the ill-conceived notion promoted by mischief makers that northern Nigerian women, particularly the Muslim ones, are deprived of the freedom to engage in sports and fitness activities. 

I’m honestly sick and tired of all the backlash Islam and Muslims are receiving, portraying us as people who do not give women freedom, as though the so-called freedom some other women are enjoying has earned them the needed value and respect from society. 

Unfortunately, these critics don’t consider the position of Islam about free-mixing between opposite sexes, and also the kind of outfit that is morally due for a woman to be seen in by men who are not her ‘Mahrams'(Muslims will understand this).  

It is worthy of note that what makes us religious people is the fact that we are neither freethinkers nor atheists. We have codes of conduct and laws enshrined in our religious scriptures, which we are obligated to abide by.

I don’t like how even some Muslims consider it absurd and barbaric that Muslim ladies are discouraged from participating in some of these secular-oriented sporting activities where women are mandated to appear in skimpy dresses, and intermingle with men indiscriminately. 

At the slightest provocation, they make references to Arabian countries where secularism has almost eaten up the religious aura there.

I understand that situations might sometimes warrant us to compromise and adopt some secular practices (Darooraat), but giving full acceptance to those practices, despite their contradiction with our religious laws, while considering our religious laws as barbaric and extreme, is quite unbecoming of a Muslim. 

Meanwhile, I implore religious organisations to begin investing in some of these necessary but non-Shariah-compliant things, such that we can have a halal version, and save ourselves this noise about us not depriving women of their rights. 

It’s about time we began to think outside the box and come up with solutions to some of these problems. 

Sports and gymnastics are necessary, and establishing a shari’ah-compliant atmosphere isn’t a bad thing. 

Ibrahim Suleiman Ibrahim wrote via suleimibrahim00@gmail.com.

By Abdulrahman Sani

I went to Sudan to study Arabic. That was the beginning, simple and deliberate. But in truth, Arabic was only the surface. Sudan offered more than language. It stirred old questions I had carried with me since adolescence. Questions about memory, exile, and what remains after collapse.

My first encounter with the Sokoto Caliphate’s legacy wasn’t through archives or oral traditions. It was through theatre. I was in secondary school when I read Attahiru by Ahmad Yerima. The image of the Caliph fleeing colonial forces, defiant to the end, burned itself into my mind. I didn’t fully understand the politics then, but I felt the tragedy. That single text became a spark.

Later, I found the writings of Dr. Usman Bugaje, measured and searching. And then came Muhammad Shareef, the African American founder of Jamaa’at Danfodio in the United States, whom I had the pleasure of interviewing [here: https://youtu.be/_5Uj1S0lXQM?si=1BpJ9vusnW2HqWf4]. His writings were rich, wide-ranging, and full of overlooked geographies. It was through him that I first read about Maiurno, a small village in Sudan that held the echoes of Sokoto’s fall.

The very idea of it intrigued me. Remnants of the Caliphate had not only survived but also resettled, rebuilt, and renamed. I wanted to know what happened after Burmi. I wanted to know what exile looked like, generations later.

I mentioned this to my friend Malam Hassan, and soon after, we were on our way — me, him, and our guide. Before Maiurno, I spent some time in a Hausa village in Sudan. The familiarity was immediate. I saw areas named after Illela, heard idioms that sounded like home. It was as though Sokoto had sent a whisper into the desert, and it had echoed back in Sudanese tones.

Maiurno came into view quietly, without ceremony—a flat, sun-beaten village, carrying itself without fanfare. But history rarely announces itself. You feel it in the silences.

We made our way to the Sultan’s palace early in the morning. As we approached, an elderly man greeted me in Fulfulde. I hesitated, then responded in Arabic, admitting I didn’t understand. It was one of those quiet humiliations. A Fulani, abroad, unable to answer in the language of his own people. He smiled politely and said nothing.

We waited. There were others before us, people from another town in Sudan who had come to report a case. In the meantime, I noticed the crocodiles. Yes, crocodiles. They lay in their enclosure like royal guards, unmoving. It felt surreal but somehow fitting. The Sultan was no mere figurehead. He was the acknowledged leader of Hausa and Fulani communities in Sudan, a man of both presence and authority.

When he finally emerged, he received the guests before us. He listened without interruption or impatience. Then he settled their matter with a wisdom that didn’t need to explain itself. That kind of clarity is rare.

Then he turned to me.

I told him why I had come. I said I was interested in the Fodiyawa manuscripts said to be preserved in Sudan. He nodded with understanding, but explained that the key lay with the Sardauna of Maiurno, a scholar of great standing who, ironically, had travelled to Nigeria, my own country.

The Sultan was fluent in Hausa, Arabic, and Fulfulde. He spoke with the calm rhythm of someone used to being listened to. He smiled and said, “I know in Sokoto your Fulfulde doesn’t go beyond Balinjam.” It was said lightly, but it landed with accuracy.

He spoke of his relative, Professor Mukoshay, the author of the Fulani-Hausa dictionary. Then, briefly about Hayat ibn Sa‘id, a name that deserves more telling than time allowed. Before long, I realised I should be recording this. I asked his permission. He agreed with grace.

He began narrating how their ancestors had come to Maiurno after the fall of the Caliphate, how they had built their homes, mosques, and memory on Sudanese soil, and how they still kept contact with their families in Nigeria. He spoke too of the Jamaa’at Danfodio in America with quiet admiration, amused by how history had found new shapes and tongues.

After the conversation, he did something unexpected. He asked, gently, for my contact. I gave it. We shook hands, and I took my leave.

What struck me wasn’t just the story. It was the clarity with which he carried it. My visit to Maiurno took place in 2019. At the time, the country was in a fragile transitional moment, unsure of what lay ahead. But even then, the Sultan stood out–quiet, composed, and principled. In later years, during the war with the RSF militia, I would hear that he remained steadfast and stood with the state when others hesitated. The president himself visited to thank him.

Maiurno wasn’t just a trip. It was a quiet, necessary crossing, from curiosity to memory, from story to place. The Sokoto Caliphate may have fallen in Burmi, but it lives on. In names. In speech. In places like Maiurno, where its sons still remember.

Abdulrahman Sani can be reached via X: @philosopeace.

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

There is this thing that has been baffling me for so long. How on earth can someone knowingly take what does not belong to them and claim to be the rightful owner? Be it a car, a motorcycle, money, or anything valuable, how can a person live with that and still have peace of mind? Just wondering. The rising number of fraudsters, armed robbers, and criminals is sending a red alarm through our society. We need to think about this. 

Where is our sense? How can you feel human after intentionally making someone else suffer by stealing or using power to take what is not yours? Even if you escape in this fleeting world, do you ever think about the hereafter? Honestly, I do not think anyone with a conscience can still feel truly human after that.

In today’s fast-paced society, the pursuit of wealth has become more intense than ever. Young people are under growing pressure to succeed quickly and visibly. Social media has made it worse, constantly showing luxury lifestyles, expensive cars, designer clothes, and dream vacations. Everywhere you look, someone is showing off something new, and this has created a culture where being rich is seen as the only proof of success. With this kind of pressure, it is not surprising that many are tempted to look for shortcuts to riches.

Some youth turn to legal avenues such as starting businesses, learning digital skills, or investing in trades. These are commendable paths that require time, discipline, and consistency. However, others begin to lean toward illegal or dishonest means. Internet fraud, online scams, money rituals, and other shady activities have unfortunately become attractive options for those who want to make it overnight. These choices are dangerous and often come with serious consequences that people do not thoroughly think through until it is too late.

The reality is that there is always a price to pay for fast money, especially when it comes through illegal means. Aside from the risk of arrest, prosecution, and jail time, there is also the emotional burden and shame that follow. Getting caught in criminal activity can destroy your future. It closes doors to real opportunities, stains your reputation, and breaks the trust your family and community have in you. Even if the law does not catch you, people talk. Your name becomes a warning, not an example.

Beyond legal consequences, there is also a personal cost. Living in constant fear of getting caught or exposed takes a toll on your mental health. Many people who appear to be living large are battling anxiety and guilt behind closed doors. They cannot sleep peacefully, they do not feel safe, and deep down, they know that what they are enjoying is temporary. What is the point of having money if you have to keep looking over your shoulder?

It is also important to understand that real wealth takes time to build. There is nothing wrong with starting small. Many successful people started with little, but they stayed consistent. Whether you are learning a skill, starting a side hustle, or working your way through school or a job, what matters is growth. Progress may be slow, but it is real, and over time, it adds up. That kind of wealth gives you confidence and freedom because it was earned the right way.

Young people need to hear this often. There is no shame in taking your time. Not everyone will blow in their twenties, and that is okay. Social media has created false timelines that make people feel like failures if they have not made it early. But life is not a race. Focus on building yourself. Learn, grow, stay curious, and surround yourself with people who push you to do better the right way. Your future should not be built on lies or shortcuts. Let it be built on purpose and with effort.

In the end, it is not just about making money. It is about who you become in the process. Money comes and goes, but your values, your peace of mind, and your name should remain intact. Do not trade your future for temporary pleasure. Stay focused, stay clean, and remember that true success is not just about how much you have but how you earned it.

Muhammad Umar Shehu wrote from Gombe and can be reached via umarmuhammadshehu2@gmail.com

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

Renowned U.S.-based Islamic scholar Dr. Yasir Qadhi has paid a heartfelt tribute to Nigerian business mogul and philanthropist Alhaji Aminu Alhassan Dantata, who passed away at the age of 94.

In a message shared via his social media platforms, Dr. Qadhi described Dantata as “a shining star and a legendary icon” in Nigeria, praising his humility, honesty, and lifelong commitment to philanthropy.

“He was one of the most successful entrepreneurs and business tycoons in Africa,” Dr. Qadhi wrote. “Yet everyone knew him to be a humble and honest man… ever-ready to help others less fortunate, never greedy for more.”

Recalling a recent meeting with Dantata in Nigeria, Qadhi shared the late businessman’s parting words of wisdom: “Honesty! Always, be truthful and sincere, and leave the rest to Allah.”

Alhaji Dantata, who declined a political appointment, was never involved in a scandal and was laid to rest in the revered Baqi al-Gharqad cemetery in Madinah, Saudi Arabia.

“Such men are very rare indeed,” Qadhi noted, praying for Allah’s mercy upon him and for his legacy to continue through his progeny.

By Usman Abdullahi Koli, ANIPR

It often begins in silence, the kind of silence that follows suffering, that surrounds forgotten people and places. Then, one day, someone listens. Someone hears the unheard cries and decides to act. Not for praise. Not for politics. Just for people. That is how the Wunti Al-Khair Foundation was born out of quiet empathy and bold conviction.

Founded by the respected and remarkably selfless Dr. Bala Maijama’a Wunti, this foundation has grown into a strong pillar of light for those trapped in the shadows of neglect. It doesn’t announce itself with noise, but rather with impact. It doesn’t parade power, but wields compassion with quiet strength. In every village it touches, in every child it lifts, the foundation tells a story of care that is both personal and profound.

At the heart of Wunti Al-Khair is a simple but powerful philosophy: people matter. Whether it’s a sick mother, a child without a school, a youth without skills, or a traditional gasping for breath—everyone counts. The foundation has built its work on four timeless pillars: health, education, skills, culture, and community services. These aren’t just categories; they are the lifeblood of any thriving society. And Wunti Al-Khair doesn’t just serve these areas; instead, it brings them to life.

In healthcare, the foundation reaches places others overlook. It breathes life into under-equipped rural clinics, supports emergency services, organises medical outreaches, and ensures that the poorest families are not left behind. Where once fear and despair prevailed, now there is relief—and a renewed will to live. For many, a hospital bill is the difference between hope and helplessness. But through Wunti Al-Khair, that burden is lifted with dignity.

In education, the foundation does more than hand out books, renovate classrooms, or award scholarships. It opens the doors of destiny. Imagine a young girl from a forgotten hamlet stepping into school for the first time, her eyes wide with dreams, her hands clutching a schoolbag gifted by strangers who saw her worth. That’s the kind of miracle Wunti Al-Khair delivers—not one-time donations, but long-term transformation.

Skills development follows naturally. Because education alone can inspire, but skills empower. The foundation trains women, nurtures local entrepreneurs, supports artisans, and helps young people turn their talents into trades. It doesn’t just teach people to fish; it gives them a pond, a rod, and the confidence to cast their lines.

Then there is the culture: the soul of a people. Now, as globalisation tries to wash away local identity, Wunti Al-Khair holds firm. It celebrates heritage, promotes traditional art, supports festivals, and reminds communities that their past is not a relic but a treasure. By honouring culture, it strengthens pride, and through pride, it nurtures progress.

Governments often fall short in fulfilling their responsibility to provide basic amenities for the populace. The Wunti Al-Khair Foundation has stepped in to fill the gap with endless commitment. The foundation restores hope in underserved communities by implementing impactful, grassroots initiatives. Among its most notable contributions are the drilling of solar-powered boreholes in rural areas, ensuring access to clean and sustainable water sources. It also extends compassion to the less privileged and vulnerable by providing permanent and temporary shelter solutions.

But a foundation, no matter how noble, is only as strong as the man behind it. And in Dr. Bala Wunti, we see not a benefactor from above, but a father beside us. His generosity is quiet, his heart open, and his actions resolute. Those who know him describe a man who listens before speaking, gives without being asked, and navigates life with humility and purpose. His leadership is not defined by status, but by service.

Dr. Bala’s life is a lesson. From humble beginnings to impactful influence, he has never lost sight of the human face of hardship. He gives not because he has to, but because he cannot not give. For him, lifting one person is worth more than a thousand compliments. He believes that the true measure of wealth is not in what you own, but in the number of lives you’ve made better.

Wunti Al-Khair Foundation is not just an organisation; it’s a movement of mercy. It is a reminder that in a world often clouded by selfishness, there are still hearts that beat solely for others. You won’t always see its name in headlines, but you’ll find it in the eyes of a healthy mother, in the smile of a child clutching a scholarship letter, in the hands of a youth finding his worth and becoming independent, and in the praises of others whose lives have been touched.

This is a revolution led by kindness. One community at a time. One human being at a time.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Sulaiman Abdullahi

The Muslim Forum of Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, has condemned the brutal lynching of 31 Muslim passengers in Mangu Local Government Area of Plateau State, describing the attack as a “horrific act of savagery and barbarism.”

According to the Forum’s statement, signed by its Secretary-General, Dr. Munir Sani Ari, the victims—travelling in an 18-seater bus marked “ABU-Zaria”—were ambushed on Friday, June 20, 2025, while seeking directions in Mangu. Twelve passengers were reportedly killed and burned on the spot, while 18 others sustained serious injuries and are currently receiving medical care following military intervention.

Among the deceased was a staff member of ABU’s Department of Physics, who was reportedly transporting women and children to a wedding. The Forum emphasised that this was not an isolated incident but part of a “disturbing pattern of impunity-driven violence” against Muslims in Plateau State.

Criticising the response by Mangu LGA Chairman, Mr. Emmanuel Bala, who attributed the massacre to a “case of mistaken identity”, the Forum labelled the remark as “futile and insulting,” citing social media posts glorifying the attack as evidence of premeditated hate.

The Forum issued a set of urgent demands, including a full and independent investigation, public prosecution of those responsible, prompt compensation for victims, and immediate government intervention to prevent future attacks. It also called on the Kaduna State Government to support the victims’ families and cover medical expenses.

The Forum warned that continuing to fail to act decisively would only deepen national tensions, urging authorities to pursue justice beyond “mere rhetoric.”

By Malam Aminu Wase

Plateau State is a richly diverse and vibrant community, home to people of various ethnic and religious backgrounds. We are one family, destined by God to live together in peace and mutual respect. Sadly, this unity is too often ignored when it comes to leadership, particularly the highest office in the state. The persistent adoption of a Christian-Christian gubernatorial ticket threatens the very foundation of our coexistence.

It is time for Plateau to embrace equity, justice, and inclusiveness. For too long, Muslims in the state have been marginalised in political leadership, particularly at the executive level. This exclusion must end. I firmly believe that the next governorship candidate, regardless of religion, should choose a Muslim as a running mate. A Muslim-Christian or Christian-Muslim ticket would truly reflect the spirit of fairness and unity we all profess to uphold.

For more than two decades, Muslims in Plateau State have shown unwavering political support for Christian-led tickets, believing in the promise of shared governance and mutual respect. From Wase to Kanam, Jos North to Shendam, Barkin Ladi to Quanpaan, Mangu, and other local government areas, Muslim communities have consistently turned out in large numbers to vote, not out of compulsion, but from a sincere desire to contribute to the democratic process and to foster unity across religious lines. Yet, this goodwill has not been met with reciprocity.

Despite making up a significant portion, nearly half of the state’s population, Muslims remain glaringly absent from the highest levels of leadership. This is not merely a matter of political imbalance but a painful reminder that inclusion and equity remain elusive. When a group that has given so much continues to receive so little in return, it breeds frustration, weakens trust, and threatens the very cohesion that Plateau so desperately needs. We cannot claim to be united while one half of our people are repeatedly shut out of the room where decisions are made.

Our call is simple: include us. Recognise our presence. Acknowledge our contributions. Let us build a Plateau where everyone feels seen, respected, and valued regardless of faith.

Personally, some of the most meaningful relationships in my life have been with my Christian friends, friendships that began in the classrooms of Pilot Central Primary School in Wase, grew stronger at Government Science College Wase, and deepened further during my university years. These bonds have shown me the beauty of unity, the strength of mutual respect, and the power of shared dreams. That is why it pains me deeply to see Muslims continually left out of leadership. It feels like a betrayal of the unity we have lived and believed in. If we can walk together in friendship, why can’t we lead together in governance on the Plateau?

In the Wase Local Government, Christians are a minority, yet they have never been treated as outsiders. They have held key positions, including that of the Deputy Chairman, and many have benefited from the federal appointments from the Rt Hon Ahmed Idris Wase, the immediate past Deputy Speaker of the Nigerian House of Representatives, thanks to his inclusive leadership. This is what true leadership should look like, recognising every citizen’s worth, regardless of faith or number. It proves that fairness is not a favour, it’s a duty. If such inclusive governance can be practised locally, why can’t it be replicated across the entire state?

Plateau belongs to all of us. We must build a future where leadership reflects our shared diversity. Let’s end the cycle of exclusion and embrace a new era of fairness, justice, and genuine unity.

Malam Aminu Wase writes from Kaduna State. He can be reached at aminusaniusman3@gmail.com.

By Musa Kalim Gambo

The International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT), Central Nigeria Office, recently hosted a pivotal monthly lecture series on Sunday, June 1, 2025, shedding light on the escalating challenge of mental health and psychosocial issues in the modern world through an Islamic lens. The virtual event, titled “Navigating Mental Health and Psychosocial Challenges in the Modern World: An Islamic Perspective,” brought together eminent scholars and practitioners to underscore the urgency of addressing mental well-being, especially in a nation grappling with pervasive stressors and inadequate healthcare infrastructure.

The lecture commenced with welcoming remarks from Dr. Aliyu Tanko, the Coordinator of IIIT Central Nigeria Office, who highlighted the widespread nature of mental instability, noting the common sight of individuals speaking to themselves or acting unusually due to mental distress. Professor Ahmad Bello Dogarawa, a Zaria-based Islamic scholar who served as the chairman of the occasion, emphasised the timeliness and relevance of the topic, noting that the issue of mental health and psychosocial wellness gained critical attention during the COVID-19 lockdown, as families experienced increased troubles and stresses while confined to their homes. This realisation, he stated, underscored the necessity of continuous discourse on mental health and psychosocial support.

The first distinguished speaker, Professor Salisu Shehu, a Professor of Educational Psychology at Bayero University Kano and Executive Secretary of the Nigerian Educational Research and Development Council, delved into the conceptualisation of mental health. He noted that traditionally, mental illness was only recognised in its most severe forms, such as “actual madness and lunatic behaviour,” overlooking milder emotional instabilities like neurosis or withdrawal syndrome. However, with expanding knowledge, it’s now understood that mental illness encompasses a broad spectrum, including emotional disorders.

Professor Shehu highlighted the fluidity in defining “disorder” or “maladaptation” in the modern world, influenced by libertarian philosophies and concepts of freedom and inclusivity, citing the LGBT movement as an example where behaviours once considered abnormal are now termed “difference”. He countered that in the Islamic context, and conventionally, any behaviour “that deviates markedly from the accepted ‘norm’ or pattern can be considered as a disorder or abnormality”. He adopted the World Health Organization’s (WHO) 2022 definition of mental health as “a state of well-being in which the individual realizes his or her abilities, is able to cope with normal stresses of life, work productively and fruitfully, and make a positive contribution to his or her community”. He further explained that mental illness, according to WHO, is a “clinically significant disturbance in an individual’s emotional regulation, or behavior,” often associated with stress. He lamented the “irony of modernity,” where inventions designed for ease have, paradoxically, accentuated stress and psychosocial challenges, leading to increased mental illness due to factors like urbanization, overcrowding, and the erosion of social networking and extended family support.

Transitioning to the Islamic perspective, Professor Shehu articulated that mental health and sickness are “primarily subject to the absolute will of Allah,” rooted in the Tawhidi framework. He emphasised that Islam attaches “fundamental and central concern on maintaining and preserving mental well-being”. A profound demonstration of this concern is the unequivocal prohibition of intoxicants, as mental well-being is a prerequisite for fulfilling all Sharia obligations. He cited a Hadith affirming that “the pen (for record of sins) is suspended… against… the mentally ill until he regains sanity,” underscoring the vital importance of sound mental health in Islam.

The Quran, he noted, directly links stress and depression to emotional disorders, offering remedies such as belief in divine decree, patience, trust, and gratitude. Practices like Dhikr (remembrance of Allah) and Dua (supplication) are prescribed as potent coping mechanisms for sorrow and anxiety. Professor Shehu referenced Islamic scholars like Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya, who in “al-Tibb al-Nabawy (The Prophetic Medicine),” discussed the effects of stress (e.g., sleeplessness, grief, unfounded fears) on mental well-being and outlined over twenty Islamic coping techniques.

Following Professor Shehu, Professor Taiwo Lateef Sheikh, a distinguished Professor of Psychiatry at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, delivered a comprehensive presentation. He echoed the sentiment that mental health is a core protection in Islam, ranking third among the five necessities. He stressed the critical distinction between mental health symptoms and mental illness, noting that many experiencing distress can recover with community or spiritual support without necessarily needing clinical intervention.

Professor Sheikh painted a grim picture of mental health in Nigeria, describing it as “one of the most neglected areas of health in the world and even worse in Africa”. He presented sobering statistics:

• Over one in five people in conflict-affected areas experience mental health conditions.
• Nigeria allocates less than 5% of its health budget to mental health, with funds often going to standalone psychiatric hospitals rather than comprehensive care.
• There is a severe shortage of mental health professionals, with fewer than one psychiatrist per 100,000 people in Nigeria, translating to a ratio of 1 to 1.5 million.
• More than 85% of people with severe mental illness in low- and middle-income countries do not receive the care they require.
• Around half of all mental health conditions start by age 14, and suicide is the second leading cause of death among youth aged 15-29 in Africa.

He explained that mental health encompasses emotional, psychological, and social well-being, influencing thought, feeling, action, relationships, and stress management. He introduced the “bio-psychosocial approach” to care, integrating biological (physical investigations, medications), psychological (counselling, psychotherapy), social (lifestyle adjustments, environmental factors), and religious/spiritual dimensions. He passionately argued for the crucial role of spirituality in mental health, stating it provides a “sense of purpose and meaning, social support, healthier behaviours, increased happiness, and enhanced coping mechanisms and resilience”.

Professor Sheikh also detailed Nigeria’s mental health governance, outlining policies from 1995 to 2023. He highlighted his pivotal role in developing the National Mental Health Act of 2021, a landmark legislation signed into law in December 2023. However, he lamented the significant institutional barrier: the Act remains largely unimplemented, and the Federal Ministry of Health has yet to establish a dedicated Department of Mental Health, the “first rate-determining step” for a budget line and governance structure. Other barriers include professional rivalry, lack of standardisation in religious healing approaches, and individual self-denial and stigma. To overcome these, he called for multi-sectoral and integrated approaches, involving collaborations across health, education, housing, and other sectors and fostering partnerships with faith-based organisations and community engagement.

The lecture concluded with interventions from other senior colleagues and attendees. Professor Nasiru Maiturare, Rector of the Hajj Institute of Nigeria, underscored the effectiveness of the Islamic framework by presenting statistics on suicide rates: Muslim-majority countries show remarkably lower rates compared to nations like South Korea, Japan, and Sweden. This, he asserted, is not a coincidence but attributable to Islam’s “comprehensive approach to mental health,” which anchors human life in faith, remembrance of Allah, patience, trust, and gratitude.

Participants urged for greater mass outreach, including radio and TV programs in local languages, to reach broader audiences beyond those who can log into virtual platforms. Given their large followership, there was a strong call to engage religious and traditional institutions for awareness and community-based support and to standardise spiritual healing approaches. Suggestions were also made to integrate mental health awareness into primary school curricula and to establish groups of young, enthusiastic individuals at the state level to disseminate this crucial knowledge.

The lecture served as a powerful reminder of the urgent need for a societal shift in addressing mental health, emphasising that Islam provides a robust, holistic, and spiritual foundation for mental well-being and resilience in the face of modern-day challenges.

Gambo writes from Funtua, Nigeria and is a member of the IIIT Central Nigeria Office Monthly Lecture Series Committee.

By Kabiru Danladi Lawanti, PhD 

I cannot recall any incident where a vehicle or travellers were targeted simply because they were from Plateau State, in retaliation for the atrocities being committed by these savages.

Please, I challenge anyone to provide a single example—since 1914—where innocent travellers were attacked in Kebbi, Sokoto, Zamfara, Katsina, Niger, Kano, Jigawa, Bauchi, Gombe, Yobe, Adamawa, or Borno simply because they were seen as the “other.” 

Yet, we have countless documented cases from Tinno, Mambilla, Takum, etc., in Taraba; Riyom, Barikin Ladi, Jos, Mangu, etc., in Plateau; Agatu, Makurdi, etc., in Benue; and Gonin Gora, Koi, etc., in Kaduna, where innocent travellers were blocked, maimed, and killed—dismembered and buried or even burned alive—solely because of their identity as “others.”

These are normalised atrocities. The perpetrators are getting away with it because there have been no consequences. Only God knows how many lives have been lost in this manner between 2002 and 2025. 

Many of these crimes are well documented—some even recorded and posted by the criminals themselves, proudly sharing selfies while committing barbaric acts. Remember the Eid day massacre in Jos? Or the genocide in Mambilla? These incidents are documented by security agencies.

Tragically, these criminal gangs enjoy the backing of some politicians and community leaders. Take, for instance, the disturbing justification offered by the Chairman of Mangu Local Government Area regarding the killing of wedding-bound travellers from Zaria. Is that how a leader is supposed to speak?

Even more worrying is how these barbaric acts are celebrated on social media. Look at the screenshot of Kefas Gyang Pam that went viral yesterday, or the posts from a Facebook group in Bokkos openly celebrating the gruesome attack on the innocent Zaria travellers.

These individuals are not ghosts. They are known. And they can be easily traced.

Kabiru Danladi Lawanti, PhD, wrote from Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Leaders and foreign ministers from the 57 member states of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) are gathering in Istanbul this Saturday for a high-stakes summit overshadowed by escalating tensions in the Middle East, most notably Israel’s war with Iran and the ongoing devastation in Gaza.

Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi is set to attend, as many of his counterparts are expected to call for an immediate ceasefire. Yet the OIC, long criticised for its limited political clout, is unlikely to shift the course of either conflict.

The situation in Gaza—now in its 21st month—remains dire. Humanitarian workers report that more Palestinians are killed by the Israeli army while trying to collect food than in actual combat. 

On June 17th, at least 59 people were killed when Israeli tanks reportedly opened fire near an aid distribution centre run by the Israel-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation. Israel’s military has pledged to investigate the incident.

Despite repeated condemnations and emergency meetings, the OIC has remained largely powerless in stemming the violence in Gaza. With tensions now spilling into a broader regional confrontation, the summit is expected to issue a familiar call for peace that few expect to alter the course of events.