Nigeria

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

As we celebrate the World Book and Copyright Day (the UNESCO, not UK version) on 23rd April 2025, and even though it is targeted at children and youth, let’s reflect; after all, we were once children and youth. A historical excavation of our reading habits shows how lucky we were.

Hausa folks over 50 have always lamented the death of reading culture among contemporary Hausa youth. Such old fogies always hark back to the days of reading, mainly English language authors: James Hadley Chase, Denise Robins, Jacqueline Susann, Frederick Forsyth, Nick Carter, Stephen King, Robert Ludlum, Harold Robbins, Ayn Rand, Wilbur Smith, etc. Almost always English. Always British or American. The novels written by these authors, I would argue, laid solid foundations for their knowledge, command and mastery of the English language. 

And the comics. Tintin (actually, Tan-Tan), Asterix, Mad Magazine, Marvel comics (Spiderman, Fantastic Four, Thor, X-Men, etc). The entire comics of London’s Fleet Street. Evoking memories of Valiant, Thunder, Eagle, Commando, Cor!!, Buster, Tiger, Battle. Even football comics (even though I don’t particularly like football at all), such as Roy of the Rovers. The novels, the comics and the TV shows (Star Trek, Space 1999, Man from U.N.C.L.E., Man from Atlantis, Perry Mason, etc.), to be frank, laid the foundation of what I am today. Not much from Africa, though. But the little we had was superb as well. These included Lance Spearman’s African Film, Fearless Fang’s Boom, and a romantic tear-jerker, Joy.  

All were readily available at the Post Office in Kano and major supermarkets of Leventis and Kingsway. The latter in particular became a must-visit place for me in the 1970s. Nothing, absolutely nothing, beats the wonderful smell of fresh books being stacked on their shelves. And it wasn’t just books. I scrimped and saved pennies and shillings until I had enough to purchase my first vinyl record album – Rare Earth’s Get Ready in 1972, three years after it was released in 1969, when I first heard a single version on the radio. 

This was what defined reading culture, at least for those of us in the urban centres who grew up with it. And even if one can’t afford fresh new books and comics from Leventis and Kingsway stores, there are many places in Kano centred around Plaza in Fage, Coca Cola Roundabout, and even the main Post Office frontage itself, where hundreds of second-hand books are sold, even up to now. 

Exchanging books and discussing their plots, characters, and titles set the tone of conversations with friends. The most popular pulp fiction writer, of course, was René Lodge Brabazon Raymond, most popularly known as James Hadley Chase. Interestingly, his novels were written in the 1930s and later, painting an often-depressing picture of his setting (mainly the United States, even though he was British). Titles like Tiger By the Tail, Tell It to the Birds, Just a Matter of Time, Knock, Knock! Who’s There? There is a Hippy on the Highway that evokes our hastily copied Americanism. The garish covers, almost always graced by a long-legged sultry female model, made many truly judge the book by its cover. 

These foreign novels existed alongside African novels, particularly those published by Heinemann since 1969. The Heinemann African Writers Series produced a massive variety of novels, almost 225, many by people from the eastern part of Nigeria. For most of us, though, their postcolonial themes seemed too intellectual. Further, they were made part of the set reading for those offering literature, so again, many who want to read a novel just for pleasure rather than pan-African political philosophy simply avoided them. 

The struggle for the souls—and pockets—of school children in the 1970s continued in efforts to dislodge James Hadley Chase. In 1977, Macmillan Publishers decided to publish a low-cost paperback series under what they called the Pacesetters Series. These were published from 1979 to 1988 and became massively popular. I remember seeing one of the earliest, The Undesirable Element by Mohammad Sule from Kano, published in 1977, while we were students at ABU. 

When Sule finished the novel (which he wrote while a student at the now Rumfa College Kano), he initially took the manuscript to the Northern Nigeria Publishing Company (NNPC) in Zaria, which rejected it because it was in English. Luckily, Macmillan was in partnership with NNPC and the MD, a Briton, asked his wife to evaluate it. She did it positively and recommended it to Macmillan London, who were just about to start their Pacesetter series. See providence. If NNPC had accepted it, they would have created a large pool of English language novelists in northern Nigeria

For Baby Boomers (1946-1964) and Generation X (1965 to 1979), the Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) of 1986 severely affected their reading culture in one way: the books just dried up, whether foreign or local. Foreign became too expensive, local became too repetitive and static. We simply went back to the old classics and read them again and again. It was Robert Ludlum re-read (especially The Parsifal Mosaic) for me. 

All this was for ƴan boko. What about Hausa novels or reading materials? There are very few. By the 1980s, all the classics had been read, and no new ones were coming out. These included Magana Jari Ce, Ilya Ɗan Maiƙarfi, Gogan Naka, Nagari Na Kowa, Sihirtaccen Gari, Dau Fataken Dare, and a whole bunch of plays. Writing and publishing was very strenuous. Publishers could only publish if the books were to be made part of the set reading for WAEC, which limits the writer’s imagination and creativity. 

Then Hafsat AbdulWaheed came along with So, Aljannar Duniya in 1980. The first published Hausa language novel. The first by a woman from northern Nigeria. Plotting the classic Hausa marriage situation. A revolution was ignited in Hausa language fiction, leading to Mills and Boons style romantic fiction or Littattafan Soyayya. In less than five years, both male and female writers had emerged with stories to tell. Writers’ collectives were formed. The printing presses of party politics made it easier to self-publish. So, the writers ignored the snotty hoity-toity “big” publishers, especially NNPC (although NNPC can PRINT your book for payment, as they did with Balaraba Ramat’s early novels).  

In less than five years, the emergent authors have published more volumes than Heinemann (225) and Pacesetters (130). This made Hausa the most voracious reading public in Nigeria. Prof. Graham Furniss of the SOAS London even published a bibliography of the genre, including a whole website based at SOAS. When they became too much for the Kano State public culture, for that was where they flourished, a censorship board was created in 2001 to curb them. When that did not work, the Kano State government burned them in 2007 to cleanse the youth of the books. A harsher censorship regime debilitated them even more, throwing them out of business. The Hausa reading culture died. 

Then the Smartphone came in 2007—the then-Kano state Governor publicly burned Hausa books the same year. The same year, a harsher censorship regime was instituted in Kano that made life hell for the creative industries (Maryam Hiyana, anyone?). The iPhone, while not the first smartphone (Blackberry, anyone?), nevertheless revolutionised communication in its innovative approach to design. Clone copies with Android operating systems cemented the mass appeal of the smartphone. Eventually, it became commodified. 

Then, in 2013, Hausa novelists had their epiphany. They realised that with Facebook bubbling away, they could write their novels and escape censorship. Sure, no money, but they would be sharing their ideas. Things then blossomed from there. They created hundreds of Facebook pages for Hausa novels. When they became technologically proficient or engaged those who were, they created blogs sharing Hausa novels and creating massive readership throughout the Hausaphone world. For instance, Hafsat Hausa Novels (H²) had 471,000 members last time I checked. 

Then they discovered Wattpad, which had been in existence since 2006. They moved on the site with massive gusto, creating novels in three presentation modes – Hausa, English and Enghausa. Mainly by women. The migration online redefines “reading culture” if it is seen as engagement with text. Wattpad’s metrics alone convincingly show that the Hausa reading culture has been revived. For instance, Jewel by Maymunatu Bukar had 1.1 million reads. Thus, E-books and online literary content became increasingly popular, and social media can be used to share and discuss these resources

And let’s not ignore social networks and social media posts and COMMENTS. Agreements, disagreements (including insults typical of Arewa Social Media), expanded explanations – all are READING, and far livelier than just reading a book on your own. But again, social media gives us the opportunity to discuss – have a debate – about the books we like/hate (Goodreads, anyone?). 

“Reading culture” is a dynamic and evolving concept that encompasses more than the mere act of reading. It is an intricate web of practices, values, and institutional structures that defines how individuals and communities interact with texts. Whether viewed through a sociological, historical, or digital lens, understanding reading culture involves recognising the interplay between technology, policy, and the deeply personal ways that texts influence and reflect who we are.

I therefore argue that reading social media is very much part of today’s reading culture. It is a re-invention of reading culture. It may differ from traditional literary reading in depth, tone, and purpose, but it still involves interpretation, meaning-making, and cultural exchange. In any event, all the books, comics, and TV shows you so favoured are now digitally available (I have sourced all of these that defined my youth).

As reading culture adapts to the digital age, social media becomes an important arena for literacy and engagement in all spheres. Hey, you might even find the rest of the James Hadley Chase books you missed (you know he published 98, right?). 

Happy World Book and Acibilisian Day to y’all.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

The Kano State Hisbah Board has dismantled an unauthorized pilgrimage site in the Dakata Industrial Area after false claims spread that the spot bore the footprint of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).

The site attracted large crowds when a muddy imprint and seeping water led to rumors of divine healing powers.

Videos showed people bathing in, drinking, and collecting the water while performing religious rites.

Deputy Commander Muhahideen Aminudeen of the Hisbah Board dismissed the claims as baseless, stating that the Prophet never visited Africa.

He warned against the health risks of consuming the water and urged the public to seek proper Islamic knowledge.

No arrests have been made, but authorities are investigating the source of the misinformation.

By Uzair Adam 

Kaduna State Governor, Uba Sani, has said political leaders from northern Nigeria have failed the region and should collectively apologise to the people for decades of underdevelopment and neglect.

Speaking during an interview with Trust TV, Sani stressed that criticism of government policies should be driven by the genuine interest of the people and not by political ambition.

“Every democracy must allow criticism, but it must be constructive, and in the interest of the Nigerian people. That’s what we did as activists — not because we wanted power,” he said.

He noted that those who have held public office in the last two decades — including himself — bear responsibility for the challenges facing the region.

“Anyone who is from northern Nigeria and held a political office in the last 20 years, we all need to look at ourselves in the mirror and apologise to the people of northern Nigeria. We let them down,” he admitted.

Reflecting on his own time in office, the governor said the region’s problems stem from long-standing structural and economic neglect.

“I’ll say it here today — all of us; I was a senator in this country, and the problems of northern Nigeria didn’t start two years ago,” he added.

Sani also criticised the outcomes of the massive social intervention programmes under former president Muhammadu Buhari, saying they failed to uplift the region due to deep-rooted financial exclusion.

“Buhari spent hundreds of billions on social interventions,” he said. “But the North became poorer even after that because 70% of the population, especially the masses, were completely financially excluded.”

He pointed out that anyone who had served as a senator, minister, governor, or vice-president from the region over the past 20 years shares in the blame.

The governor cautioned politicians against misleading the public and lauded honest critics who maintain integrity and a people-first approach.

“We must not deceive the people of northern Nigeria. We must not mislead them. I’ve no problem with people criticising the government — people like Dan Bello Galadanchi. 

“Those individuals have the moral right to speak. But those who contributed to the rot and now claim to have repented — I think that’s wrong,” he said.

_________________________________

Muhsin Ibrahim, PhD

Institute of African Studies, 

University of Cologne 

Blog: www.muhsin.in

By Lawan Bukar Maigana 

From the ashes of battle-weary Borno to the powerful corridors of Aso Rock, Vice President Kashim Shettima has consistently defied the odds. His journey has never been one of privilege but of perseverance, grit, and unswerving faith in destiny.

As governor, he governed Borno State at a time when Boko Haram unleashed one of the worst humanitarian crises in Nigeria’s history. While others fled, Shettima stayed. He took bold, calculated risks to keep his people safe, rebuild destroyed communities, and stabilise a state under siege. Many thought Borno would collapse—yet under Shettima’s leadership, it stood.

Transitioning to the Senate, Shettima faced different types of warfare—political manoeuvring, underestimation, and party intrigues. Yet again, he rose above, earning his place as a voice of reason and strength within the APC, known for his eloquence, intellect, and firm grasp of national issues.

Today, as Nigeria’s Vice President, Shettima faces yet another challenge—this time from within. A coordinated campaign has emerged, allegedly pushed by political actors with ambitions for 2027, aiming to sow discord between him and President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Fake news merchants have been deployed to twist narratives and fabricate rifts. But the facts remain stronger than fiction.

President Tinubu’s trust in Shettima runs deeper than many understand. Tinubu chose Shettima as his running mate—without pressure, without external consultation, and certainly without seeking endorsement from even the most powerful figures like former President Muhammadu Buhari. His decision was based on conviction, not compromise.

Each time the media speculates on a rift, President Tinubu swiftly dispels it, reiterating his confidence and respect for Shettima. This alliance is built on shared vision and mutual respect, not convenience.

Kashim Shettima has emerged stronger, wiser, and more determined through every fire he has walked. History shows us that adversity sharpens his focus. This latest round of animosity, though loud, is fleeting. Just like before, he will rise—not only to prove his critics wrong, but to reaffirm the values of loyalty, resilience, and visionary leadership.

The noise will fade in the end, but Shettima’s legacy—like his rise—will endure.

Lawan Bukar Maigana is an award-winning journalist and humanitarian who can be reached at: lawanbukarmaigana@gmail.com.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

Operatives of the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) have intercepted a consignment of cocaine ingeniously hidden inside 20 sets of religious books intended for export to Saudi Arabia.

The discovery was made on Tuesday, April 15, at a courier company in Lagos by the Directorate of Operations and General Investigation (DOGI) officers. During a routine search of outbound cargo, the officers uncovered 20 parcels of cocaine, weighing a total of 500 grams, carefully buried within the pages of the books.

The NDLEA described the concealment method as a “desperate and deceptive tactic,” aimed at evading detection. The books were among items listed for shipment to Saudi Arabia, raising concerns over the potential abuse of religious materials to traffic illicit substances.

This interception is part of a broader crackdown by the agency, which has recorded several major seizures across the country in recent days. However, the religious bookcase has drawn particular attention due to its audacious nature and the sensitive destination.

NDLEA Chairman, Brig. Gen. Mohamed Buba Marwa (Rtd) commended the Lagos command for its vigilance and professionalism. He emphasised the agency’s resolve to disrupt drug trafficking networks using any means, no matter how disguised.

Investigations into the identity of those behind the shipment are ongoing.

By Huzaifa Dokaji

Kano is not a place you reduce to a headline or dismiss with a stereotype. It is a city with too many layers for that—too much memory, too many voices. This is the Kano of Muhammadu Rumfa, the ruler who gave it form and vision, and of Ibrahim Dabo, the scholar-king. The Kano of Kundila and Dangote, where wealth meets ingenuity.

It is the Kano the British once described as the ‘London of Africa,’ the Tripolitans praised as ‘a city like a thousand others’, each one magnificent—and its own people, knowing its complex social and ideological chemistry, named tumbin giwa, the intestine of an elephant: vast, winding, and full of hidden depths.

Kano has always carried many lives at once. It is the home of Shehu Tijjani Na Yan Mota and the sanctuary of Abdullahi dan Fodio when he felt the revolution had been betrayed. It is Madinar Mamman Shata and the home of Aminu Ala, the author of the philosophical Shahara and masterfully composed Bara a Kufai. This is the same Kano that made Dauda Kahutu Rara, the master of invective lyrics, and Rabiu Usman Baba, the Jagaban of Sha’irai.

Here, contradictions do not cancel each other, they coexist. It is the city of yan hakika and yan shari’a, of Izala and Tariqa, of Shaykh Rijiyar Lemo and of Shaykh Turi. It is the Kano where people will argue passionately about doctrine, then share tea afterward. Where silence and speech, mysticism and reform, are all part of the same long interesting yet boring conversation.

This is the Kano of the diplomatic Emir Ado Bayero and combatant Muhammad Sanusi II. Of Rabiu Kwankwaso, the red-cap-wearing jagora, and of the agreeable Ibrahim Shekarau. It is that same Kano of the incorruptible Malam Aminu Kano and Dollar-stuffing Ganduje. The cosmopolitan city of Sabo Wakilin Tauri and of the saintly Malam Ibrahim Natsugune.

If not Kano, then what other city could birth Barau Kwallon Shege, the bard of the profane, and welcome Shaykh Ibrahim Nyass, the towering saint of the mystics? Where else but Kano would you find Shaykh Nasiru Kabara- scholar and Sufi master- sharing the same cityscape with Rashida Yar Daudu and all the remembered and forgotten Magajiyoyin Karuwai? This is the Kano of yan jagaliya and attajirai, of the sacred and the profane, the pulpit and the street. The Salga and of Sanya Olu and Ibedi streets. Kano has never pretended to be a city of one truth, its greatness lies in the multitude it carries.

So when people speak carelessly about Kano, they miss the point. Kano is not a relic. It is alive. It debates itself. It holds its tensions with pride. And like Adamu Adamu said, “the story of this enigmatic city is simple and straight backward – and , in the end one can only say Kano is Kano because Kano is Kano – and that’s all; for; it is its own reason for being.”

You don’t explain Kano. You respect it.

Huzaifa Dokaji is a PhD student and teaching assistant at the Department of History, State University of New York at Sony Brook. He can be reached via huzaifa.dokaji@stonybrook.edu.

By Uzair Adam

The Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, has said his opposition to former Vice President Atiku Abubakar’s 2023 presidential ambition was driven by principle and not personal disappointment.

Wike clarified that his stance was not about being sidelined for the vice-presidential slot, as widely speculated, but rather rooted in his belief that power should have shifted to the South after President Muhammadu Buhari’s tenure.

“I wanted power rotation. After eight years of Buhari, I couldn’t support power remaining in the North. It wasn’t about whether I was picked or not—it was about principle,” he said in a recent interview.

The former Rivers State Governor added that he never considered Atiku a viable option because, according to him, the former Vice President is not reliable.

“From day one, I told my delegates that Atiku doesn’t keep to his words,” Wike said, citing past experiences.

He recounted how in 2019, Atiku, alongside Bukola Saraki and Uche Secondus, assured him of nominating individuals for key ministerial positions, but later acted contrary to the agreement.

“I was told I would nominate the attorney general and minister of petroleum. After the election, I saw the legal team formed on TV, and the person I was supposed to nominate didn’t even know when it happened. That was when I laughed and called Saraki,” Wike explained.

He maintained that he never trusted Atiku’s promises and never expected to be selected as his running mate.

Wike’s remarks add another layer to the internal wrangling that plagued the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) in the lead-up to the 2023 elections.

By Uzair Adam Dangote Petroleum Refinery has once again reduced the gantry price of Premium Motor Spirit (PMS), popularly called petrol, cutting it by 3.5 per cent.

The new rate is now N835 per litre, down from the previous N865, following a steady decline in global crude oil prices, which recently dropped to $64 per barrel from over $70.

This marks the second price cut in recent weeks, after the refinery earlier brought the price down from N880 to N865 per litre.

However, marketers reportedly failed to reflect the reduction at retail outlets.

With a daily refining capacity of 650,000 barrels, the Dangote Refinery continues to shape Nigeria’s downstream petroleum sector and influence market trends.

By Teco Benson, MFR

One of the most intellectually dishonest and damaging narratives in recent years is the partitioning of Nollywood into “Old” and “New.” It’s a simplistic label that started as a casual argument among a few younger practitioners but has unfortunately crept into academic discourse and mainstream industry conversations. This idea is not only divisive, but deeply offensive to the legacy of the industry and to those who built it from the ground up.

There is no such thing as Old Nollywood or New Nollywood. There is only Nollywood—a continuous, evolving industry built on layers of sweat, sacrifice, creativity, and resilience. What some choose to call “New” is not a replacement of the “Old”; it is a progression made possible because of the foundational work of the pioneers.

What many fail to understand is that our storytelling essence has not changed. The values, themes, cultural textures, and emotional core of Nollywood have remained consistent through the years. What has changed—and continues to change—is technology, and that is not unique to Nollywood; it’s a global phenomenon across all creative industries.

Even during the analogue years of Nollywood’s emergence, there were constant technological shifts. The iconic 1992 film Living in Bondage, which benchmarked the Nollywood movement, was shot on Super VHS. To improve quality, filmmakers soon transitioned to U-matic cameras and their full post-production systems. After that came Betacam, which was adopted for both shooting and editing. Then came MiniDV, followed by DVCAM—a digital video format that coincided with the arrival of non-linear editing.

This shift from linear to non-linear editing was revolutionary. It allowed filmmakers to use computers to seamlessly edit and manipulate captured footage—something unthinkable during the earlier years when it was strictly garbage in, garbage out. In those days, whatever was captured in-camera was exactly what the audience would see. There was no room for error. This forced cinematographers, sound recordists, and directors to train rigorously, work with precision, and strive for excellence at every stage of production.

From DVCAM, the industry moved to HDV (High Definition Video)—the final tape-based format—before embracing tapeless high-definition systems using memory cards. That ushered in a digital revolution, and Nollywood embraced it with open arms. Suddenly, filmmakers had tools to correct errors, grade visuals, enhance sound, and polish rough footage. As a result, even inexperienced filmmakers could produce glossy-looking films. But what this also meant was that those trained in the era of analogue discipline had a stronger professional foundation—having learned to get it right at the point of capture, rather than fixing it in post.

Today, technology continues to evolve—from 2K to 4K, 6K, 8K, 12K, and beyond. Tomorrow will bring even more shifts. But through it all, filmmaking has remained constant. The values, the voice, and the cultural richness of Nollywood have endured.

Another major transformation lies in distribution and audience reach. In the early days, Nollywood was feeding the Nigerian nation alone. Films were sold as physical cassettes and distributed within the country. Ironically, it was pirates—not formal distributors—who duplicated these tapes and spread Nollywood films across Africa, the Caribbean, and among global diaspora communities. This unintended export planted the seeds of the industry’s global influence.

Today, with the internet and streaming platforms, national borders no longer exist in the virtual world. Once a film is uploaded online, it instantly becomes global content. The filmmaker’s audience is no longer a town, a state, or a country—it is the world. And with that expanded reach comes intentionality. Scripts are now written with global standards in mind, stories are told with international audiences considered, and production decisions are made to meet the expectations of a diverse, global viewer base.

These changes are natural. They are part of the organic evolution of any thriving creative ecosystem. It doesn’t make the early days “old” or “outdated.” It doesn’t elevate the present generation above those who came before. If anything, it emphasises the need for continuity, respect, and intergenerational collaboration.

To classify pioneers as “Old Nollywood” is to ignore their innovations and the fierce battles they fought to establish the industry in the first place. It is to forget that there was once a time when there was no Nollywood—only brave individuals daring to tell African stories using whatever tools they could afford. They didn’t wait for validation. They created a movement.

What exists today—the funding, the streaming platforms, the global attention—was made possible because a group of passionate dreamers picked up VHS cameras and believed their stories were worth telling.

This is why the “Old vs. New Nollywood” narrative must be retired. It is reductionist, divisive, and counterproductive. Every generation has its own tools, challenges, and breakthroughs. But the spirit of storytelling, the soul of our culture, and the purpose of our cinema remain the same.

Let’s stop building walls within the house we all call home. Nollywood is one—past, present, and future.

Teco Benson, MFR, is a veteran film director, industry pioneer and cultural commentator.

By Anas Abbas

The Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) has assured candidates that they will not be required to take the upcoming examination outside their registered states.

Dr. Fabian Benjamin, JAMB’s Public Communication Advisor, provided this assurance during a recent telephone interview with the News Agency of Nigeria in Abuja.

He clarified that while some candidates for the 2025 Unified Tertiary Matriculation Examination (UTME) were assigned to mock examination centers outside their states due to limited availability, this will not be the case for the main examination.

Benjamin explained that if mock examination centers in a state, such as Abuja, are fully booked, candidates may be redirected to nearby centers in other states, like Nassarawa.

However, he noted that the main UTME will have a wider array of centers available, ensuring that all candidates can take the exam within their state of residence.

He added that early registration plays a crucial role in determining the proximity of a candidate’s examination center. If a closer center is filled, candidates may be assigned to any available center within the same state.

In a statement released on Sunday, Benjamin acknowledged the delays and challenges faced by some candidates during the mock examinations and expressed regret for any inconvenience caused.

He attributed these issues to new features being tested to improve the overall conduct of the UTME.

“The mock examination serves as a trial run for the UTME, allowing us to implement innovations while helping candidates acclimate to the Computer-Based Test (CBT) environment,” he stated.

“This initiative has consistently met its goals over the years, addressing identified shortcomings and providing candidates with essential experience for the main examination.”

JAMB encourages all candidates to continue making necessary preparations to ensure a smooth examination experience that meets their needs.

The 2025 UTME is set to commence on April 25.