Nafisa Abdullahi

By Isah Dahiru

The recent interview with popular Kannywood actress Nafisa Abdullahi has ignited a heated debate across the social landscape of northern Nigeria, capturing the attention of various commentators, particularly on social media. In her comments, Nafisa made a bold assertion, claiming she is in complete control of her body and mind, and no external pressure will sway her from dressing or presenting herself as she chooses. While many regard Nafisa as a rising icon in the realm of feminism, others view her stance as a challenge to societal norms, often overlooking moral values and even biological realities that define the differences between men and women.

However, I firmly believe that Nafisa and those who share her views are fundamentally misguided. Our bodies are not commodities to be paraded for public admiration. We are not here merely to fulfil some visual pleasure or as adornments for others’ gaze. Instead, we are human beings endowed with dignity and deserving of respect. As the saying goes, “Modesty is the garment of wisdom,” and our attire should reflect the strength of our character, not just the shapes of our bodies.

Some may view Nafisa’s perspective as a rallying cry for women’s rights, but we must question: at what cost? Feminism, when reduced to a struggle for the right to dress indecently or act without moral constraints, becomes an empty movement. True feminism should not undermine the fundamental principles of respect, but rather empower women to pursue their dreams, shape their futures, and contribute meaningfully to society. Yet, today, far too many feminists have turned their movement into a celebration of physicality and superficiality, often at the expense of deeper issues that affect women—such as access to education, healthcare, and opportunities for economic advancement.

“Not all that glitters is gold,” and the so-called “empowerment” that comes from making oneself a spectacle for public approval is fleeting at best. Our communities need leaders who inspire change through actions that address real problems, not through empty displays of vanity. Nafisa and her supporters must realise that feminism was never about endorsing self-destructive behaviours but advancing equality and opportunity for women, especially in the most critical areas—health, education, and justice.

Moreover, the widespread glorification of such behaviours leads to a dangerous distortion of the feminist narrative. In the pursuit of gender equality, many have lost sight of the core values that have guided humanity for centuries. As the Yoruba proverb says, “A child whose mother does not discipline will be disciplined by the world.” While Nafisa may feel empowered by her choices, she must ask herself whether these choices empower women or diminish their potential. Are they fostering respect, or are they merely setting up an unrealistic, unsustainable standard that undermines the integrity of the feminist movement?

The case of Nafisa is also emblematic of a broader issue in modern-day feminism: the movement has become entangled with other societal problems, including the normalisation of self-objectification. This is particularly damaging in northern Nigeria, where the pressures of social norms and expectations are often at odds with personal freedoms. It is one thing to advocate for women’s rights but another to ignore the vital cultural and moral fabric that holds communities together. The old adage, “When you are in Rome, do as the Romans do,” speaks to the importance of understanding context and respecting traditions that shape our societies.

Furthermore, it is essential to note that the modern feminist movement has, in many ways, become an outlet for personal grievances—whether stemming from personal insecurity or trauma. In some cases, it’s a response to physical abuse, neglect, or toxic home environments. Unfortunately, this mindset often distorts the movement into focusing on external appearance and aggressive defiance rather than internal healing and social harmony. Feminists like Nafisa who endorse such ideologies must ask themselves: Are we fighting for the right to make healthy, empowered choices, or are we simply reacting to our wounds?

“Empty vessels make the most noise,” the proverb warns. Feminism, when misdirected, can become just that: an empty echo of ideals without true substance or lasting impact. Instead of dwelling on appearances, activists should channel their energy into solving tangible issues affecting women daily. Why not focus on creating innovative solutions for women in business, technology, or healthcare? Why not work toward making pregnancy and childbirth safer for women in rural areas? Let’s think about addressing the millions of girls who are denied an education or the thousands of children living on the streets of cities like Jos and Kano. These are the real battles feminists should be fighting.

The world has always advanced through the cooperation of men and women, and both genders have vital roles to play in society’s development. Nafisa and her followers should consider taking a more constructive approach. Instead of focusing on outward appearances and ideological battles, they could use their platforms to bring about meaningful change. 

Let Nafisa invest her energy into projects to help women access technology, provide better healthcare, or champion the cause of good governance. As the saying goes, “A man with a good wife is like a man with a treasure chest”. True success comes not from looking beautiful for the world but from making contributions that endure long after physical beauty has faded.

Time waits for no one. The years spent in idle pursuits are years lost. Like all of us, Nafisa is in her prime, and it is her responsibility to use this time wisely. Rather than spending it on fleeting concerns like hair and makeup, let her invest in causes that uplift women and contribute to the collective well-being of society. Her legacy can be more than just a pretty face—it can be one of deep, transformative impact. “He who does not cultivate his own field, let him not expect to reap the harvest.”

The choice is hers—will she become a true role model, not just for how she dresses, but for the change she brings to the world?

By focusing on true empowerment and social progress, Nafisa can transcend the superficiality of celebrity culture and contribute to a more meaningful, lasting legacy for herself and the women who look up to her.

Isah Dahiru is a pharmacist who wrote via easerdahiru@gmail.com.

By Ishaq Habeeb

I’ve met Nafisa twice, first at Zoo Road, Kano, hanging out with a friend who’s in business with many Kannywood industry people. Second, when I escorted a friend who visited Kano, Nigeria, from Niamey, Niger Republic. He had been pen pals with Nafisa for some time. So they agreed to meet whenever she’s in Kano.

After my initial attempts to dodge being part of making this meeting happen, I grudgingly agreed to link them up. But, aside from that, I don’t know Nafisa enough as an actress to know whether I like her or her movies.

I mostly remember her from the one-time popular song, “Bankwana sai watarana“, sang by Nazifi Asnanic. But following this Almajiranci debate, I already like her as an activist and looking forward to liking her as – hopefully – a good actress.

As for Naziru, I’ve met him several times. Besides being best friends with his childhood friend Rabiu Uba, I’ve had business reasons to visit his T/Fulani residence last year with Usman G. Abubakar and spent time with the singer in his living room. That aside, I am no fan of his mostly-political music. Nothing personal, just not my genre.

Now back to the original reason behind this write-up; the Almajiranci debate. My stand; Nafisat Abdullahi is right, so is Naziru Sarkin Waka. For those of us that know people in the Kannywood industry and have lived in Kano (the headquarters of Almajiranci in the world) long enough to see the horror of Almajiranci at its peak, we are in a better position to say they’re both right.

Victims of inadequate parenting primarily dominate both Kannywood and Almajiranci systems. Therefore, inadequate parenting is the monster we need to kill. Given that, bearing more children than one can adequately cater for is hugely responsible for bad parenting. This fact proves Nafisa and Naziru right.

Conclusively, the major problem lies with the people that make it their life’s calling always to attack messengers to discredit a message that often serves the good of all – however factual and tangible the facts in the message may be.

First, it was Digital Imam, speaking truth to Presidency on the escalating level of insecurity. Then Nafisat, for speaking out against Almajiranci, a menace we all agree needs urgent addressing. Then almost concurrently, Naziru, for speaking out against the prevalent immoralities in Kannywood, which is being perpetrated chiefly by victims of inadequate parenting.

Now, one can only pray, as a people, may we learn to hate our problems more than we love judging who’s reminding us of their presence for us to FIX them.

Ishaq Habeeb wrote from Kano via simplyishaqhabeeb@gmail.com.

By Aminu Mohammed

I have observed the raging debate over the Almajiri debacle in the last few days, especially the antagonism against a Kannywood actress Nafisa Abdullahi. The actress voiced out against parents who send their children to urban centres to memorise the Quran under the guise of an Almajiri system.

This issue resonates with me because I was once an “Almajiri”, though in a modernised form of learning. I was a product of Arabic and Islamic education. I am still grateful to my late father for seeing the wisdom in sending me to the College of Islamic Studies Afikpo, a boarding secondary school in Southeastern Nigeria funded by a Saudi Arabia-based International Islamic organisation Rabita Alamul Islam (the Muslim World League). Unlike some of my schoolmates who later studied Islamic studies at Islamic University Madina and Azhar University Cairo, Egypt, I decided to study International Studies at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, against my father’s wish, whose dream was for me to be an Islamic scholar.

I am still at a loss wondering why the actress is being pilloried for telling the truth. If you ask these intellectual lilliputians and Nafisa’s traducers whether they will be comfortable sending their children out to beg on the streets under the guise of Quranic education, they will never say yes.

Before you call me “Karen farautar yahudawa”, an agent of Jews, which our people are fond of calling those who seek societal change and are in tune with modern realities, let me clarify that I did not attend a conventional secondary school. I advocate an integrated education system involving the acquisition of both western and Islamic education. 

I will never advocate against memorising the Quran or acquiring Islamic knowledge because I was a beneficiary of that. At the boarding secondary school in Afikpo, Ebonyi state, we were taught Hadith, Fiqh, Balaga, Tafsir, Tajwid, Saqafa, Sirat, Ulumul Falsaf, Sarf and Nahw, among other subjects, by some Islamic scholars mainly from Pakistan, Egypt and India. I was able to speak Arabic with confidence on completing my secondary education. I even took some Arabic courses as an elective throughout my studies in Zaria. Even here in Germany, I still communicate with my neighbours from the Middle East in Arabic.

I am not worried that this article will generate antagonism in some quarters or be pilloried for triggering anger in some folks. But the truth of the matter is that we cannot continue on this trajectory. This system can no longer continue the way it is; otherwise, we may be heading towards the precipice. 

The word Almajiri is derived from the Arabic word “Almuhajirun”, meaning a person who migrates from his locality to other places in the quest for Islamic knowledge. During the colonial era and a few years after that, the schools were maintained by the state, communities, the parents, ‘Zakkah’, ‘Waqf’ and augmented by the teachers and students through farming.  “Bara”, begging as it is known today, was completely unheard of. 

Mallams and their pupils, in return, provide the community with Islamic education, reading and writing of the Qur’an, in addition, to the development of Ajami, i.e. writing and reading of the Hausa language using Arabic Alphabets.  Based on this system, which is founded upon the teachings of the Qur’an and Hadith, the then Northern Nigeria was broadly educated with a whole way of life, governance, customs, traditional craft, trade and even the mode of dressing.

However, the system was corrupted in the past few decades, with teachers sending the children to beg for food on the streets. Similarly, many irresponsible parents were unwilling to cater to their children. Thus, they send them away to cities to purportedly acquire quranic education.

The current Almajiri system is not only archaic but atavistic. We must tell ourselves the truth that society is drifting. What we are facing today regarding security challenges in the North will be child’s play if our people refuse to change their ways. There is no gainsaying that the future is bleak if what we can boast of is an armada of malnourished and unkempt children who are roaming the streets under the guise of Islamic education. Eventually, the children may not acquire any meaningful skills to become useful members of society. 

I am not a prophet of doom and derive no joy in pessimism. But, I do not see a bright future for a region struggling with a depleted human resource, coupled with millions of underage children clad in tattered clothes with bowls roaming the streets begging for food. I do not foresee any meaningful progress and development in such a society.

I still recall, in 2012, when former President Goodluck Jonathan visited Sokoto to inaugurate the Almajiri Integrated Model School in the Gagi area of the Sokoto metropolis. This boarding school was equipped with modern facilities. As a journalist working with THISDAY Newspaper then, I was there at the commissioning and even interviewed the school’s principal Malam Ubaidullah, a few months after the inauguration. I was excited that there would be a gradual process of taking Almajiris off the streets, as was promised by former Sokoto governor Senator Aliyu Magatakarda Wamakko. However, the euphoria was short-lived as governments in the region neglected the programme while the school buildings rotted away.

I wonder why our people antagonise those who want the system to be reformed or outrightly banned in the North. Are we comfortable seeing underage children roaming the streets under such dehumanising conditions? Have we pondered over the looming famine in the Sahel as forecasted by global development organisations, of which Northern Nigeria is part due to climate change worsened by overpopulation? Are we not witnessing the level of insecurity pervading the region because of societal neglect and marginalisation caused by a rapacious elite?. Do we sit down and pray and wait for a miracle to happen while expecting that our problems will go away?

Already we are battling with banditry in the Northwest due to societal neglect of a segment of the society that we use to mock because of their ignorance. And things will even get worse in future unless drastic action is taken to reform the system to enable children to memorise Quran in a friendly atmosphere devoid of hunger and deprivation. The current Almajiri system is a pathway to perdition.

Parents should stop sending children to cities if they are not ready to cater for them. These children should stay in their localities and learn under a school system presided by their Islamic teacher or Malam. The state governments must engage those Quranic teachers and pay them a stipend. I know this is doable because the government has the means to do that.

Unfortunately, much resource has been wasted on frivolities instead of channelling it towards revitalising the Almajiri system. We must wake up from our slumber and direct our energies toward finding a way to tackle problems in our society. Taking action is the key, and I believe that is the only way we can expect to have stability and peace in the polity.

Aminu Mohammed is at the school of Sustainability, Christian- Albrechts- Universität zu Kiel, Schleswig Holstein, Germany. He can be reached via gravity23n@gmail.com or stu219013@mail.uni-kiel.de.