Northern Nigeria

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

They are both young boys, although one seems slightly older. From March to May 2025, they captured the attention and interests of Hausaphone social media with their radically different approaches to digital media visibility. In the process, they provided a template or script for the future of youth engagement in public culture and demonstrated the power of agency. 

Taranding in an open cesspool (Kabiru Isma’il, Kano).

The first was Kabiru Isma’il, better known as Kabeer2pac (apparently a fan of the late American rapper 2Pac Shakur).He had 1.8m followers and 15.1m likes on his TikTok account, which prominently displays his phone number (or that of his agent) for advertising purposes. His early videos clocked in millions of views. His most famous video, in which he shakes the dust off his body and jacket, has earned 51 million views. He devised two strategies to achieve this fame. 

His first videos were posted during the 2025 Ramadhan on 19 and 20th March 2025. In the videos, he was recorded immersed in a stagnant open cesspool of household wastewater (kwatami), dunking himself in it and smearing the sediments on his face. The videographer asked for his motives, and he replied he was doing so to “tarand” (trend) because he yearns for fame (ɗaukaka). He affirms he was not a lunatic. The video had 2.6 million views. He further explained that he resorted to this because his earlier attempts at trending were unsuccessful.

On 3rd April 2025, he switched from cesspool contents smearing to getting a sack of charcoal dust dumped on his head,which earned the video 14.8 million views. By then, his fame spread because the CoalDust video he posted two days later earned him 51 million views. His videos attracted Gwanki Travels and Tours International Ltd in Kaduna, who invited him and offered him a free ticket to perform the lesser Hajj, Umrah. Beaming with happiness, Kabeer2pac declared his gratitude that he had achieved the fame he had sought and had “taranded” very well. Of course, Gwanki also trended because they were riding on his coat-tail, as it were, to advertise their services.

Reactions to Kabeer2pac’s fame and fortune were varied but predictable. Most commentators were happy for him and took umbrage at any view that condemned his behaviour as unhealthy and unbecoming. Some Muslim clerics condemned him. Others were against the money spent on his Umrah, arguing that he was young and the money should be invested in either a trade or his education. His behaviour led to copycat copying. 

Quite soon after it started trending, copycats appeared in various guises, including a cesspool girl, from dousing themselves with petrol to set fire on themselves, to having cement blocks banged on their head, to immersing themselves in a stagnant pool of waste water. In one case, a young boy entered a soak away— all in their desire to “tarand” and possibly get a free Umrah ticket.

In an RFI video interview posted on 16th April 2025, Kabeer 2pac admitted that the possibility of his social media celebrity status is likely to be short-lived, as he understands that people will soon get bored with his antics and switch to something else. But for the period he was trending, he was happy with the endorsements he received and his branching out into comedies and short dancing skits in his trademark winter jacket. 

He has accurately anticipated the ephemeral nature of his antics. About two years ago, others who trended and quickly faded away were even more famous and established what I call “celebrification culture”. The first was Ale Rufa’i Bullgates, who devised his own currency, “Gangalion”. He was followed by Ale Umar Bush, whose speciality was foul-mouthing everyone around him. Each was given a social media celebrity status – private jets, fancy meals, endorsement deals by fancy local merchants. Ale Umar Bush seemed to have a Middle-Eastern “girlfriend”. People mocked their mental health and turned them into the theatre. That was probably why Kabeer2pac prefaced his first video by proclaiming that he was not mad. 

What motivates people to watch grisly events as lookie-loos, whether on screen or in physical spaces? Kabeer2pac’s audience can be called voyeuristic or spectator audiences. Odd or outlandish behaviour fascinates them because it provides novelty, entertainment, and sometimes a sense of shock or disbelief. Due to its unconventional nature, such content often triggers curiosity, amusement, or even a desire to share with others. 

Trending Young Dangote (Sadiq Usman Ahmed, Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna)

In contrast to Kabeer2pac, Sadiq was a street hawker in Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna, whom someone tagged Young Dangote. His nickname refers to the Hausa business mogul Aliko Dangote, the richest Black man in the world at the time. Anwar Textiles Ltd discovered him at a traffic stop in Kurmin Mashi, Kaduna, on 18th May 2025, when the young lad, who looks about 13 years old, was hawking car fresheners. 

Intrigued, the videographer asked how he started the business. Beaming an incredibly infectious smile (alone enough to make you buy his ware, even if you had no intention of doing so), he said he started with ₦300 with which he used to purchase cotton buds for ₦50 and sold for ₦70-₦100, before moving to products he bought for ₦350, selling at ₦500, happy with whatever profit he made. Gradually, his capital reached ₦5,000, then ₦1000, “har jari ya kai dubu hamsin cifi cif”/up to ₦50,000 neat. He said he prefers schooling to hawking, but poverty forced him into hawking. He relates this with a devastating, charming smile and enthusiasm for his current station in life, clearly with a business goal in mind. 

Touched by his resolve to improve his business, the video was posted on Anwar Textiles’ personal account and went viral. This impressed so many people (including the Pop Cola company in Kano) that they sent their widow’s mite to Anwar Textiles to improve the boy’s capital. Some asked for an account. In a very honourable way, Anwar Textiles traced the boy’s father. They recorded a video in which the father explained their happiness about the crowdsourcedfunding efforts made by Anwar Textiles. He emphasised that they were not begging for assistance as such (they were well off, but had a bad patch in life), but are grateful to those who contribute to the boy’s entrepreneurial ambitions. An account number was given. 

By 16th May 2025, Sadiq had over ₦300,000 capital and a larger basket to hold more products, which Anwar Textiles helped to purchase for him. The balance of the money was handed over to the father. He thanked Anwar Textiles for making it possible for people to know him. He displayed his new “mobile shop” and declared, “daga nan sai ƙasar waje, inshaa Allahu”/next, overseas, by God’s grace. He also stated his intention to go back to school soon. 

I find Anwar Textiles honourable. He located the boy, helped him, and supported his family. Importantly, he did not engage the boy in a gaudy marketing gimmick for his company, as done with Kabeer2pac. The boys’ marketing strategy was brilliant, as seen in a video posted a few days later in which he persuaded a motorist to buy more car fresheners than the customer actually intended to buy!

Both of these teenage boys demonstrate what personal resolve can achieve. Through social media, each person has attained something they wanted at the beginning of their lives. Kabeer2pac’s social media platform, which thrives on trends and viral content, where the unusual or unexpected can quickly gain traction through likes, shares, and comments, further amplifying its reach, worked perfectly well. He has the fame (ɗaukaka) he strives for. 

For Young Dangote, who has no social media presence (I even doubt if he has a phone, for he would probably plough the money into his business), we see what the power of crowdfunding and simple determination can do spontaneously. Comments from those who knew the family indicated that they were stable (as indeed even the father stated), but went through a bad patch. Instead of mourning their turbulent period, Sadiq dropped out of school, picked up a basket, got some money, bought car fresheners, and started hawking them at traffic stops. The rest, as they say, is a viral history. 

Social media can be a space for what Bala Muhammad (Adaidaita Sahu) at the DEEDS Book vs Screen May 2025 KHAIRUN Dialogue refers to as “digital iskanci”—or something else. Your judgment of each is, of course, personal.

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

April is traditionally a month of pranks and laughter. But in Nigeria, the joke was on no one except, perhaps, on a nation whose security architecture is under siege from terrorists, bandits, and kidnappers.

Far from fearing our security operatives, criminal elements across the country displayed shocking audacity, reminding us that the battle for Nigeria’s soul remains bloody and unresolved.

In a horrific display of lawlessness, notorious bandit leader Bello Turji celebrated Eid in Sokoto by executing kidnapped victims, recording and broadcasting the gruesome act without fear of consequences. Across parts of Katsina, Kaduna, and Zamfara, bandits not only continued their reign of terror but have begun levying taxes and operating parallel governments in areas still supposedly under state control.

Compounding public anxiety, National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu made headlines when he advised families of kidnapped victims to “stop paying ransom.” While theoretically sound, the reality is far more brutal. Without swift and credible government intervention, desperate families have no option but to finance their tragedies. Until state forces can decisively rescue captives, this vicious cycle will continue.

In just one month, attacks escalated across Plateau, Kwara, and Benue States, leaving communities in mourning. Boko Haram and ISWAP insurgents resurfaced with deadly ambushes, signalling their continued relevance in Nigeria’s security equation.

April’s bloodshed has revealed operational lapses and a deep strategic and moral crisis. The Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA) must urgently intensify efforts, especially by working discreetly with rescued victims to extract intelligence, boost surveillance systems, and dismantle criminal networks worldwide.

While commendable successes by security operatives, such as rescuing hostages and recovering illegal arms, were recorded, they were dwarfed by the scale of atrocities witnessed within just 30 days.

The Department of State Services (DSS), often criticised and even facing calls for disbandment, must seize this moment to redeem itself. Encouragingly, recent commendations from the Plateau State Government and Governor Uba Sani of Kaduna for the DSS’s contributions to curbing insecurity suggest a glimmer of institutional reliability. Their successful arrests of gunrunners and dismantling of kidnapping syndicates are steps in the right direction.

Notably, the DSS also intercepted a British Army Major in Delta State attempting to smuggle 50 AK-47 rifles and ammunition—a major bust, and a signal that the service can perform under pressure. Their ability to withstand calls for the suspect’s release further strengthens public confidence.

Going forward, DSS and ONSA must strengthen collaboration through real-time joint operations, intelligence sharing, and visible outcomes. The Nigerian Intelligence Agency (NIA) also must integrate its overseas capabilities with ONSA’s domestic strategies. Today’s criminals are sophisticated—our response must be smarter.

Beyond the battlefield, Nigeria’s fight against corruption also demands attention. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) must intensify efforts with ongoing arrests of internet fraudsters and by pursuing justice in high-profile cases involving figures like Betta Edu and Sadiya Umar Farouq.

Regarding Aisha Achimugu’s case, the EFCC must adhere to due process and uphold its promise to act with diligence and integrity. Recent arrests, including that of Bauchi State Accountant General Sirajo Muhammad Jaja, show the commission is active, but visibility and transparency are critical.

Despite receiving accolades, such as the Government Spokesperson Award and the Courage in Justice and Transparency Award from the Nigerian Human Rights Community, EFCC must do more to recover funds stolen through schemes like CBEX. Collaborating with Interpol to dismantle international fraud networks and prevent future scams using forged EFCC certificates will reinforce the commission’s credibility locally and abroad.

Transparency is the only antidote to growing public cynicism about the Commission’s integrity.

The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), though laudably organising programs like its stakeholders’ meeting on accountability in local government, must now transition from talk to action. Corruption within Ministries, Departments, and Agencies (MDAs) remains rampant. A recent ICPC report showed that over 60% of corruption cases involved diverting healthcare funds—a scandal demanding decisive intervention.

April has ended, but the wounds it inflicted are still fresh. If we’ve learned anything, it is that the fear of the Nigerian state must be restored—not with hollow rhetoric, but through coordinated, courageous, and relentless action.

The enemies of Nigeria no longer fear our uniforms, our institutions, or the name “government.”

The time to act was yesterday. Today is already a dangerous gamble. Tomorrow may be too late.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a PRNigeria Fellow and author. He can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Yusuf

Nigerians’ incessant stir on social media about Nigeria’s economy and the current president’s leadership style has become common business across all the platforms available to citizens. On the other hand, there is a group of netizens employed by the government to serve as a shield from the masses’ uproar about the government’s incapacity. They vehemently respond to critics directly aimed at their paymasters.

Such people exist at all levels of government, and they are taken care of by the appointed social media aides of any administration.

My state, the liberal state or centre of learning, is currently in a situation that has turned into a noisy and confusing commotion, drawing significant attention from people everywhere. According to the masses, the state is striding in the opposite direction, unlike before, when it became a beacon of development that other states looked up to. The only development people are observing is exaggerated projects on social media.

The PR Boys, as they are called on X (formerly Twitter), or Data Boys, as they are called on Facebook, are recruited to counter any narrative against the administration. They properly utilise the “Agenda Setting Theory” concept by repeatedly posting about a single project over time to create an imaginary delusion that the administration is doing better. As directed by their paymasters, they are doing quite an impressive job.

The sad reality is that people doing such jobs are mostly educated young people who are unemployed or underemployed. If you are to have an honest conversation with them, they will lament that they are doing it for what they are being paid or because of the hollow promises made by their masters. When informed people try to talk sense into them, which they usually consider an attack directed at their masters, the masters give them morale by reminding them that they also began like them and now are in higher positions in the government. They keep enslaving their minds with promises, whereas only a few of them can be uplifted.

There was a concern regarding the state of the general hospital in Rigasa regarding human resources. The hospital, which caters for the health needs of over a million residents living in the community, is not equipped with the facilities, equipment, and staff needed by any standard health facility. Instead of these gullible propagandists considering it a call to action, as it affects them directly or indirectly, they began to call the agitators unpleasant names, all in the name of impressing their paymasters. The concern was directed to the state health ministry and addressed to the Commissioner. 

The ministry’s response on their page reiterated the governor’s effort to renovate the state’s existing health facilities. The said project was part of the Immunisation Plus and Malaria Progress by Accelerating Coverage and Transforming Services (IMPACT), which the World Bank is funding (I stand to be corrected). The project was started in 2020 and is set to end in 2030. We don’t need to mention the administration that began hosting the project in the state.

Ideally, during campaigns, everybody has their preferred candidate against their opponents. Waging support for your candidate and calling on others to support them is a right that no one should be denied. But for developmental purposes, after elections, it should be the elected leaders against the masses, not in a violent or degrading manner, but in keeping the leaders on their toes and reminding them of their primary responsibilities. These propagandists are making it look like anyone criticising the government is an enemy of the ruling class.

When concerned citizens bring up facts about the government’s inaction and lack of tangible evidence to counter them, they immediately stoop to emotional blackmail. Using words like “hypocrisy” or telling the world they are proud of being political puppets just annoys or silences those calling their paymasters to order. Many of them cannot stand an evidence-based argument due to insufficient facts. They receive orders from their superiors in their various groups to counter anything they consider mischievous about their masters online. They will flood your timeline or comment section with the duplicate content they copied from their groups as directed by their leaders.

I tweeted on X, “There is one state in Nigeria where you can only find out what the governor is doing on social media. But in reality, nothing has been on the ground since the last administration. Guess the state!” The tweet was viewed by over 12 thousand people within 10 hours and engaged by hundreds. To my greatest surprise, people kept mentioning my state in the comments and quotes. This is evidence that all the Data Boys and PR guys are doing is nothing short of mere propaganda.

Ultimately, I want to call on these propagandists to know that those they criticise for calling out the government are closer to them than those in the government. And the damage you’re covering for the ruling class will affect not only those criticising the government, but you may be the first to receive the consequences. Those sending you to criticise the former administration—most of them were part of it. They wined and dined with the then-ruling class, cleaned their mouths, and now eat with the current administration while spitting on the faces of their former masters.

May we be guided.

Abdullahi Yusuf writes from Rigasa, Kaduna. He can be reached via abdoolphd@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Abubakar Lamido, PhD 

It was after a wet Thursday Asr prayer in a quiet neighbourhood of Gombe that Mallam Isa stood up to speak. The small mosque was dimly lit, the air heavy with humidity and the scent of earth. His voice trembled slightly—not from fear, but from the weight of the message he bore.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, “let me ask you: what would happen if today, right now, your heart stopped, and your children became orphans?”

A hush fell. Even the children at the back stopped playing. That question pierced through the hearts like an arrow.

“You pray five times a day, you give Zakah and fast Ramadan, but have you made any plan for the ones you might leave behind?” he continued.

It was not just a rhetorical question. It was a wake-up call.

The Crisis of Orphans in Our Midst

In every corner of Nigeria—especially in the north—there are orphans. They are in the streets, in distant relatives’ homes, in understaffed orphanages, and in classrooms with torn uniforms and hungry eyes. Every funeral of a husband, a father, a provider, often produces not one or two, but sometimes 10, 15 or even 20 orphans. In a society with polygamy and a high birth rate, the multiplication may be frightening.

The silent cries of orphans echo through our communities, a poignant reminder of our collective responsibility. In societies like northern Nigeria, where large families are common and the spectre of loss ever-present, the number of children left without a guiding hand is staggering. 

Losing a parent can mean losing everything: food, shelter, education, and the loving embrace of family. While various efforts exist to care for these vulnerable souls – from individual families to community and religious organisations, and a few dedicated orphanages – a critical challenge remains: the lack of sustainable, reliable funding. This is where the profound and enduring institution of Waqf emerges as a beacon of hope, offering a pathway to a robust and self-sustaining future for orphans.

What do we do with this growing population?

Islam doesn’t leave this to chance. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said:

“I and the one who looks after an orphan will be like this in Paradise,” and he held his two fingers together. (Bukhari)

This Hadith should not be a mere quote for charity posters—it is a divine incentive for action.

The Legacy of Layth b. Sa‘d: A Model for Us

Let us take a lesson from the noble jurist and philanthropist Layth b. Sa‘d, a contemporary of the great Imam Malik. He was not only a scholar of high standing (who was often described as more grounded in fiqh than Malik -Afqah min Malik), but also a man of immense wealth. One of his investment —earning over 70,000 dinars annually (The current Naira equivalent of 70,000 Dinars, based on the pure gold content of those Dinars and today’s market price of gold, is approximately ₦51,188,742,500, ie Fifty-one billion, one hundred and eighty-eight million, seven hundred and forty-two thousand, five hundred Naira). Yet he gave away so much that he didn’t even have zakātable savings. One day, he bought a house, only to discover it had been used as a shelter for orphans. Without hesitation, he declared:

“This house is now a waqf for them. Let it remain a refuge. And I shall endow another waqf whose profits will feed and clothe them.”

Today, we admire his foresight. But more importantly, we must emulate it.

The Missing Link: Waqf as Sustainable Support

Most of our current models for orphan care, although well-meaning, are unsustainable. We rely on inconsistent donations or goodwill that may not last.

But waqf is not a charity of the moment. It is a charity of the generations.

“When a person dies, all their deeds end except three: a continuing charity (Sadaqah Jariyah), beneficial knowledge, or a righteous child who prays for them.” (Muslim)

Waqf is Sadaqah Jariyah. And every orphan fed, educated, healed, or empowered through it continues your reward in the grave.

How Do We Build a Waqf for Orphans?

1. Family-Level Waqf

Families should dedicate one house, piece of farmland, or business as a waqf for orphans. It could be residential housing, a school, or a rental property whose income supports orphan welfare.

Imagine if, in every city block, one family donated one apartment to serve as orphan housing or as an investment asset to support orphans.

2. Community-Level Waqf

Mosques, Islamic centres, and community associations should establish orphan waqf portfolios. These can include:

Schools with waqf-run canteens and hostels

Hospitals or clinics with orphan wards funded through waqf

Skills acquisition centres that train orphans for real livelihoods

3. Organisational Waqf

Existing orphanages should stop relying solely on donations. Let them build waqf farms, shops, or event halls. The Prophet (peace be upon him) said:

“The best of people are those who are most beneficial to others.” 

Let’s be beneficial in a lasting way.

You Could Be Next

One chilling truth binds us all: no one knows who will become an orphan next. We plan our lives, but we often forget how fragile life is.

A car crash, a silent heart attack, a violent raid—your child could be orphaned tomorrow. So, build the system you would want them to find.

Would you want your child to sleep under a bridge?

Would you want them to beg for school fees?

Would you want them to eat once every two days?

“None of you truly believes until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself.” (Bukhari and Muslim)

Then love orphans as you would love your child.

Every Little Bit Counts: What YOU Can Do

Contribute to a waqf share initiative. You don’t have to give millions. Start with ₦1,000. Drops make oceans.

Educate others about the orphan waqf. Deliver a Friday khutbah, launch a WhatsApp and Facebook campaign, and distribute flyers.

Talk to local Imams, community leaders, and philanthropists. Propose orphan waqf projects.

Use your wasiyyah (will) to declare a portion of your estate as waqf for orphans.

Empower your children to understand this legacy so they can continue the chain.

Let us build an ummah where no orphan is neglected, where no child grows up feeling discarded, where our waqf institutions become sanctuaries of dignity.

Let Gombe, Kano, Lagos, Borno, Zamfara, Sokoto, Osun and every Nigerian state become shining examples of Waqf-Orphan Integration. Let Nigeria offer the world a new orphan care model—rooted in Islam, powered by community, and sustained by waqf.

And let each of us rise, in our small way, to be counted among those who build for the forgotten, the voiceless, the orphaned.

For on the Day of Judgment, it might just be that orphan’s dua that grants you the mercy you seek.

“They ask you what they should spend. Say: Whatever of good you spend must be for parents and kindred and orphans…”

— Qur’an 2:215

Amir Lamido wrote from Gombe via lamidomabudi@gmail.com.

By Nura Jibo, MRICS

When John C. Maxwell wrote “The Power of Thinking Big,” it took me a few minutes to read most of it. In his book, Maxwell encourages human beings to think big and pursue their dreams.

Today, the world of science and technology has been corrupted by the global artificial intelligence (AI) euphoria orchestrated by so-called computer enthusiasts who are eager to sell something called AI in a manner that is far less, and implicitly below, the power of human imagination.

Whenever I see Americans, Japanese, Chinese, Germans, Asians, Arabs, and even my fellow Africans promoting AI beyond the banal and its quibbling superficiality, I genuinely sympathise with the world of science and technology “thinking” and what it holds for humanity.

AI, as it is, is a product of human imagination. It is always created using computer permutations and combinations of algorithmic packets and sets of calculated data encoded in computer microprocessors and central processing units. The computer system and its processes, which are subjected to the so-called futuristic determinations of events and activities, are again a product of human imagination embedded in what computer programmers prefer to call designed programs.

When I was in university, I was a poor student of computer programming because I didn’t take my computer teacher seriously. He failed to convince me about the processes, systems, and their creator. I spent my time playing with my classmates in the computer lab because I already understood that systems and processes are entirely products of human imagination. Indeed, the very day we decided to play in science by playing it to the gallery, it would automatically prevent us from asking more profound scientific questions beyond the basics. That would be the time when humanity would begin to lose its relevance and submit to the Elon Musks and Bill Gates of this cosmopolitan planet.  

In high school, my mathematics teacher, Malam Ali, taught me the fundamentals of working with a four-figure table from memory! Mallam Ali had committed the entire four-figure table to memory. He used to write the Cosines, Sines, and Tangents of 90, 180, and 45 degrees, as well as their reciprocals, even before we opened our four-figure tables. That was Mallam Ali’s stellar display of the power of human imagination at its best. As a novice in mathematics, I sincerely respect Mallam Ali to this day because I never had a mathematics teacher like him who taught me the power of original thinking using human imagination beyond artificial intelligence (AI).

There was also Malam Rabiu, a Chemistry teacher par excellence! Throughout my senior high school classes, I never saw him fail to teach us from his brain about REDOX reactions and the chemical reactions/compositions between an acid and a base, which to this day yield only salt and water! The “basicity” in my classmates and me created a bonding pair as opposed to finding a lone pair of electrons in every subatomic molecule.

Indeed, Malam Rabiu eventually left us to become the managing director of a Mentholatum Company in old Kano State, Nigeria. The last time I spoke with him was a week ago. He is there, being wasted away by Nigeria after having an excellent time as a hired teacher for the Kenyan government in the 1980s.

Indeed, it was the physics and chemistry teachings I received from my extraordinary teachers, such as Malam Rabiu, the late Malam Babale, Mudashiru Kolawole, and Mr. Isiaih, that led my friend, Ahmadu Saidu (now Lieutenant Colonel Saidu), and me to commit an organic chemistry textbook to memory. We crammed the entire textbook into our brains to the extent that we were not afraid of any organic chemistry examination that would ask questions on saponification or polymerisation processes in which small molecules (monomers) combine chemically to produce a giant chain-like molecule called a polymer. 

Science performed excellently for me! At that time, my thoughts and imagination aimed toward becoming an earth scientist who could change the entire geographical narrative of regional and global climate viewpoints forever. I never thought I would one day become a quantity surveyor – chartered, for that matter – because costing and construction estimates never seemed worthwhile to me as a course of study. 

As an aspiring global scientist of high standing, at the age of 15, I had already memorised the diameter of the Earth to be 12,756 kilometres! Therefore, I regarded courses like quantity surveying and accounting as suited for small minds that could not think big! But as history would have it, I find myself now “dining” and “sleeping” in quantities and what it takes to estimate the entire cost of buildings and infrastructure. Still, I never let my background in quantity surveying prevent me from pursuing geography as the mother of history. 

I eventually decided to blend quantity surveying with my passion for addressing climate change issues in Africa and globally. The two can be practised together with the time I have on earth. Hence, I developed the idea of establishing something that would ensure humanity remembers me even if I were to pass away. I founded an international NGO focused on climate change and registered it with the UNFCCC Secretariat in Bonn, Germany, as its climate observer organisation for 16 years now. The NGO has grown from a figment of my imagination, salvaging numerous communities by restoring their biodiversity in Nigeria, Africa, Niger Republic, Morocco, Ghana, and beyond.

I now register people from across the globe every year as UNFCCC climate change observer delegates. The UNFCCC Secretariat in Bonn, Germany, has designated me as its Designated Contact Point on climate change for 16 years now. The power of human imagination has enabled me to request and issue visas to my UNFCCC climate delegates, allowing them to attend our UNFCCC COP meetings free of charge.

Indeed, my dream project of constructing the Asayaya Regenerative City (ARC) generates interest among professionals and technocrats nowadays. The curiosity it ignites is just like a lady’s skirt, short enough to create attention but lean enough to cover the subject matter. My goal is to design a city with zero carbon emissions. The ARC will be energised by a hydrogen power plant using water electrolysis.

In the field of space science, the Wright brothers succeeded in presenting to the world the first aeroplane they manufactured and flew successfully on December 17, 1903.

Of course, the two right honourable gentlemen, Wilbur and Orville Wright, often fascinate me with their contributions to science and what I believe I can achieve with it to help humanity. Indeed, Orville and his brother would not have succeeded in flying what they called the “Wright Flyer” without the power of human imagination, which they trained their minds to develop beyond the ordinary.

They believed that any object obeying the laws of aerodynamics would automatically defy gravity and fly! That’s their rule of engagement! Thus, the entire world must always salute and doff its hat to the well-documented, extraordinary success stories of the duo, Wilbur and Orville. I see no reason why the world’s successful airline manufacturers, such as Boeing, Airbus, and Bombardier, along with their customers and clients like British Airways, Lufthansa, Delta Air, Qatar Airways, Emirates, etc., cannot establish a “Wright Brothers’ Day” in honour of Wilbur, Orville, and America! Thanks to the Qatari government and the royal family for taking the bold step to gift the American president, Donald, their royal luxury jet as a sign of respect and profound camaraderie towards America, a nation that produced extraordinary individuals like the Wright brothers!

Hence, the influence of mentorship and counselling in nurturing the power of human imagination above artificial intelligence or artificial science and technology is paramount.

The Wright brothers would not have achieved global success in aviation without reading the book by Octave Chanute, which succinctly explained almost all the technical knowledge they had in the field of aviation. Orville and Wilbur devoted ample time to studying their “Progress in Flying Machines” from 1894! The relationship between Chanute and the Wright brothers blossomed to the extent that he would often provide commentary on their technical expertise.

It is this same mentoring strategy that we witness today in the remarkable case of Barcelona’s wonder kid, Lamine Yamal. Lamine diligently followed Messi’s football doctrine at La Masia Football Academy in Barcelona. Whenever he is on the pitch, Lamine IMAGINES (emphasis mine) himself as Messi, dodging and dribbling past players with a dazzling performance that effortlessly bewilders opponents and excites spectators. Today, both Messi and Lamine could be likened to the world’s greatest footballer of all time, the legendary Pelé of Brazil.

That’s what the power of human imagination can accomplish!

At an early stage in my formative years, I was genuinely inspired by the works of the great Nigerian physicist, PN Okeke, who is regarded as the father of astronomy in Nigeria. Prof. Okeke was the brain behind unravelling the mysteries in physics by making them as simple as ABC. He helped me clearly understand the positive impact of Newton’s third law of motion in aviation and engineering. According to Newton, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This explains why aeroplanes must gather momentum and run at high speed until their engines produce a substantial force against gravity, enabling them to reach escape velocity.

For some of us who are still students of science, as soon as we witnessed the very sympathetic OceanGate Titanic submersible saga, we understood perfectly that one of Archimedes’ principles was grossly violated in that ill-fated and catastrophic implosion.

In the field of religion, two prominent Islamic scholars stood out globally in terms of Quranic recitation. Alaramma Yahuza Bauchi and Sheikh Sudais of Saudi Arabia are indeed global Islamic colossi whose oral Quranic recitations are second to none. I travelled throughout the Arab world and the Arabic-speaking countries, but I had not heard or seen the power of oratory Quranic recitation, such as the one I heard from the duo, as I had imagined. 

The way Alaramma Yahuza Bauchi recites Allah’s verses leaves most people in Arabia agog because his style of Warsh Quranic recitation far surpasses and is utterly different from Hafs, which is prevalent in the modern Islamic world. It would take Muslims who are unfamiliar with Warsh a considerable amount of time to grasp the mastery of the Quranic language and its verses as recited by Alaramma Yahuza Bauchi. With his oratory power and human imagination in understanding Islam, he convinced some of us to adopt the Sunni Islamic school of thought.

Sheikh Sudais, with his rare oratory Quranic recitation in Makkah, is today one of the living Quranic miracles; whenever he leads prayers in Masjid Al Haram, the entire Muslim world shivers in total submission to Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala. The very day I queued up behind Sudais during a lesser hajj, I felt fulfilled entirely by listening to his eloquent and convincing voice live and direct in Allah’s house, Ka’aba.

In the field of Christian respect for humanity and fair judgment within the Christian religion, the power of thinking beyond the margins emerged in King Najashi of the old Habasha dynasty. King Najashi was an epitome of hope, fairness, and equal treatment, ruling his dynasty in Ethiopia with genuine, not artificial, intelligence. One day, the Prophet of Islam sent his emissaries to King Najashi to seek refuge due to his profound compassion amidst religious discord in Mecca and Madina.

Nura Jibo, MRICS, wrote in from Ezdan Oasis, Al-Wakra, Qatar.

By Abdulrahman Sani  

It started like any other routine assignment. A simple task in a place that, on paper, seemed no different from the others. I was sent to a remote village in the heart of the North West, tasked with completing an enumeration in a region that was increasingly known for its volatile security situation. But what I didn’t realise then was that this seemingly innocuous assignment would lead me straight into the heart of danger.

The village, Rugar Yashi, sat on the fringes of the wilderness, far from the usual path of most travellers. The journey had been long, but I arrived early enough to begin work without delay. The protocol for entering any enumeration area was clear. 

Before stepping foot into the village, I was to call my security contact to get a briefing, obtain clearance, and receive a pass that would ensure my safety. I dialled his number repeatedly, but there was no answer. I tried once more, but the line remained dead. Frustration rose within me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realisation that I had no choice but to proceed.

I wasn’t new to the idea of security checks. Over time, I had come to view the process as a mere formality, a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. Security clearance was just another uncomfortable routine, a small hurdle before getting to the heart of the work. The reality of how precarious the situation honestly was hadn’t fully sunk in. In my mind, it was just another remote village, no different from the countless others I had visited. Little did I know, I was about to step into the lion’s den.

The Village on the Edge of a Whisper

Rugar Yashi wasn’t on any tourist map. You wouldn’t stumble upon it unless you were sent there or running from something.

The place looked serene, almost cinematic. It was tucked neatly between rustling trees and the distant hum of wilderness. I walked in alone, unseen by the world, accompanied only by a curious blend of optimism and unawareness.

I didn’t meet him in the village.

I met him at a farm by accident.

He was tending to something near a stand of goruba trees. I greeted him and mentioned I needed a cutlass to slice through one of the fruits. Without hesitation, he handed me his.

It was only after I introduced myself, explaining why I had come and what I was doing, that he nodded and said simply,

“I’ll guide you.”

That was it.

No suspicion. No resistance. Just a quiet offer that, in hindsight, held far more weight than I realised.

And so we began.

He led. I followed.

At first, he was nothing more than a helpful local. His voice was calm, measured. He spoke sparingly, and when he did, it was often with a faint, unreadable smile. The villagers treated him with a mixture of casual reverence and respect. Nothing overt. Just the kind of nods, glances, and silences that said more than words ever could.

Of Questions and Rifles

As we walked through Rugar Yashi, I quickly noticed something odd. The men around us were armed. Their rifles glinted in the sun as they moved with deliberate ease. Their eyes darted around, scanning the horizon as if waiting for something—anything—out of the ordinary. Some of them offered brief nods of acknowledgement to my guide, a quiet understanding passing between them that I couldn’t quite place.

At first, I dismissed it. I assumed they were simply vigilantes, locals tasked with protecting their community. The village seemed peaceful. The people were humble. And my task was simple. What could go wrong?

We continued through the village, and I conducted my enumeration with the usual questions—family members, occupations, and living conditions. He knew exactly where to take me. At one point, I inquired about his family, which was part of the enumeration form. He smiled and said that his brother, Aliyu, was studying at ABU Zaria. I nodded and moved on.

It sounded plausible enough.

After the work was done, he walked me to the edge of the village where a group of armed men stood, exchanging hushed words and scanning the trees. As we passed, they gave us more than a passing glance. He shook my hand, gave me his contact information, and said casually,

“Call me next time before you come. It’s safer that way.”

I smiled, nodded, and walked away. The road back to the main track was quiet. Just a few goats, wind in the trees, and my own footsteps.

The Call

Then my phone rang.

It was the security contact I had been trying to reach all morning. His voice came through tense and unfiltered.

“Where are you?”

“Done. Just leaving Rugar Yashi.”

There was a pause, and then his voice dropped.

“Who did you work with?”

I gave a brief description. His voice turned sharp.

“That man you were with, Labbo Jauro? He’s one of the most notorious bandit leaders in the region. His brother isn’t at Zaria. He was killed months ago. Deep in the forests of Niger.”

Silence.

The kind that makes your spine go cold.

I had shared a blade with him and walked through the village under his protection. Sat beside him in quiet moments. All while unknowingly under the watchful eyes of armed men who could have changed the course of my story in an instant.

The glances. The nods. The stillness in the air. It all made sense now.

But at the time, I thought I was just doing my job.

Reflection on the Edge

Looking back, I wonder whether he knew what I didn’t. Whether he had already decided for me before I’d even finished cutting that goruba fruit. Or whether, by some strange twist of fate, I had walked straight into danger and was spared not by wisdom or caution, but by simple, Divine grace.

That day in Rugar, Yashi changed how I saw the work. It blurred the line between routine and risk. It reminded me that, sometimes, the man offering help in the fields may be more than just a friendly farmer.

Sometimes, he’s the one everyone else fears.

And sometimes, he’s the reason you make it back home alive.

Postscript: This story is based on a true account. The subject’s name has been omitted, and the narrative is told in the first person by the author. Specific details have been altered or excluded to protect privacy and ensure safety.

Abdulrahman Sani can be contacted via Twitter @philosopeace.

By Muhsin Ibrahim

Talk about Kannywood and, often, some people who are scarcely literate or have little knowledge of film will dismiss the entire industry as a sanctuary for good-for-nothing folks. But that is not always true.

I first met the late Malam Umar Maikudi (also known as Cashman) at the 2019 Kano Indigenous Languages of Africa Film Market and Festival (KILAF) conference. We connected immediately, discussed various issues, and ultimately exchanged phone numbers.

Although Malam was old enough to be my father, we maintained a relatively cordial relationship. He would send me some of his writings, and I would send him mine in return. We also met a few more times during subsequent editions of the KILAF conference. I am sure Alhaji Abdulkarim, the CEO of Moving Image and the organiser of KILAF, will dearly miss Cashman.

He was among the few brilliant individuals blessed with the talent to blend theory and practice seamlessly, and he excelled in both. 

Malam was a lecturer at Nuhu Bamalli Polytechnic, Zaria, and President of the Motion Picture Practitioners Association of Nigeria (MOPPAN). 

Malam was a bridge between Kannywood and Nollywood, as he featured in films from both industries. Many Kannywood viewers may not be very familiar with him, though.

Cashman only recently started featuring in more mainstream Kannywood productions, such as Gidan Badamasi and Labarina. As a lawyer in the latter (Labarina), who is expected to code-switch and code-mix, you can tell this actor is definitely educated. He was.

His death is a significant loss to his family, of course, and to the Nigerian entertainment industry. May Allah forgive his shortcomings and grant his loved ones the fortitude to bear the loss, amin.

Muhsin Ibrahim, PhD, is an academic and writes about Nigerian films. He can be contacted via muhsin2008@gmail.com.

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu 

To many Nigerians, the security allocations in national budgets often appear inflated. Year after year, billions are allocated to the military, defence procurement, intelligence operations, and internal security initiatives.

Yet, the level of insecurity across the country continues to raise eyebrows. The common question remains: “Where is all this money going?” It is a valid concern.

However, beyond the budget lines and official pronouncements lies a more complex reality—one that is often overlooked by the average citizen. The actual cost of warfare and intelligence operations is not just steep—it is staggering.

Take air operations as an example. Military insiders have long noted that flying an Alpha Jet for a single mission can gulp up to a million naira in aviation fuel alone.

This figure excludes routine maintenance, spare parts, logistics, or crew allowances. Multiply these flights across days and theatres of operation, and it becomes easier to understand why security efforts are financially demanding.

On the ground, the story is similar. Armoured vehicles, patrol vans, and tanks require constant fuelling, often idling for hours during missions. Soldiers deployed to remote areas require food, clothing, and equipment.

Medical support must be on standby, and when fatalities occur, families of the fallen deserve compensation. These are not occasional expenses—they are daily operational necessities.

Yet, beyond the financial weight of military engagement lies an even more fragile dimension: intelligence gathering. In parts of the country, particularly the North East, North Central, and North West, attacks by insurgents and bandits continue with frightening regularity.

People often ask: Why aren’t these attacks being preempted? Where is the intelligence? These questions are justified. Comparisons are frequently drawn to agencies like the FBI or Israel’s Mossad, known for preemptive actions.

But intelligence is no miracle tool. It relies on actionable information—gathered, processed, and relayed with accuracy. In many of Nigeria’s conflict zones, such information is scarce.

Locals often fear reprisals and refuse to share what they know. Rural and forested areas remain difficult to monitor due to the absence of surveillance infrastructure.

Moreover, intelligence work is not the sole burden of the military. It requires seamless coordination among the police, DSS, NSCDC, and even vigilante groups. Where this collaboration falters, intelligence fails.

That is not to absolve our agencies of their failings. Reports of negligence, delayed responses, and poor communication abound. However, these shortcomings, while real, are not insurmountable.

Nigeria urgently needs to rethink its approach to intelligence. There must be fresh investment in surveillance tools, inter-agency communication systems, and the training of personnel in modern techniques.

Citizens, too, must become active partners by volunteering timely and truthful information. This war cannot be won solely by the military. It requires collaboration, from the government to the grassroots.

Technology, including drone surveillance and satellite imagery, must be embraced. But more than anything else, there must be political will to treat intelligence not as a side note, but as the beating heart of our national security strategy.

Balanced expectations are also important. While it is tempting to measure Nigeria’s intelligence systems against those of global powers, such comparisons can be misleading.

Nations like the US and Israel have built theirs over decades with enormous financial commitment. Nigeria, by contrast, is still building its base. Still, quiet victories exist—many of them deliberately kept from the public domain for strategic reasons.

Terror plots have been foiled, camps dismantled, and lives saved through intelligence-led operations. These successes rarely make headlines. What are the failures, the losses, and the anguish they leave behind?

That is why we must keep asking questions—but with an understanding of the context. Accountability, yes. But also support, reform, and renewed trust. National security is not a spectator sport. It is a shared duty.

And if Nigeria is to triumph over its many threats, it must first accept that intelligence, not just guns, is its most potent weapon.

Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu writes from the Centre for Crisis Communication (CCC) in Abuja.

By Uzair Adam

The National Information Technology Development Agency (NITDA) has commissioned a National Cybersecurity Centre at Bayero University, Kano (BUK), in a move to strengthen Nigeria’s cybersecurity capacity and digital resilience.

The commissioning ceremony, which took place on Tuesday, at the university’s New Campus, was performed on behalf of NITDA’s Director-General, Kashifu Inuwa Abdullahi, CCIE, by Dr. Jide Ajayi, Director of Zonal Coordination at the agency.

Speaking at the event, Dr. Ajayi described the centre as a strategic national asset that goes beyond infrastructure.

“It is the activation of a knowledge-driven platform designed to equip our nation with the tools, talent, and infrastructure required to safeguard our digital space,” he said.

He added that the project aligns with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s Renewed Hope Agenda and the Strategic Blueprint of the Honourable Minister of Communications, Innovation and Digital Economy, Dr. Bosun Tijani.

The newly commissioned facility is expected to support cybersecurity education, research, capacity building, and innovation.

Dr. Ajayi noted that cybersecurity has become an indispensable pillar for building trust in the digital economy, especially in an era of increasing cyber threats and vulnerabilities.

He announced that NITDA, in collaboration with the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA), will co-host the first National Cybersecurity Conference from July 9 to 10, 2025, in Abuja.

The event will bring together global experts, policymakers, and innovators to chart the future of AI-powered cybersecurity in Nigeria.

In his vote of thanks, the Vice-Chancellor of Bayero University, Professor Sagir Adamu Abbas, FMAN, expressed deep appreciation to NITDA and the Ministry of Communications for their commitment to technological advancement and education.

“This centre is a symbol of foresight and commitment. It will significantly improve the quality of teaching, research, and practical training in cybersecurity at our university,” he said.

Professor Abbas added that BUK already runs undergraduate and postgraduate programmes in cybersecurity and is prepared to launch a PhD programme soon, noting that the centre will enhance the university’s role as a national hub for cybersecurity excellence.

He also reaffirmed BUK’s readiness to collaborate with NITDA and the ministry in training, research, and policy development, stressing the university’s strategic position in Nigeria’s digital transformation journey.

The establishment of the National Cybersecurity Centre at BUK marks a major step in fortifying Nigeria’s digital ecosystem and promoting inclusive, region-based digital empowerment.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

In a touching act of compassion, Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf of Kano State has adopted Hauwa Yusuf (popularly known as Ummi), a 31-year-old woman battling a rare and debilitating illness known as muscular dystrophy.

Ummi, a law graduate of Bayero University Kano (BUK), has been living with the incurable condition for 18 years. Despite her severe physical limitations and financial hardship, she defied the odds to complete her university education. Today, she can barely walk without support.

Social media personality and academic, Dr. Muhsin Ibrahim, who has followed Ummi’s story for two years, revealed that she had previously received some assistance from Air Peace CEO, Allen Onyema, who sponsored a short medical trip to India. However, her condition remained unmanaged until a turning point came on the night of May 18, 2025.

In a desperate bid for help, Ummi reached out to Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf via text message. The Governor responded promptly and compassionately. According to Dr. Ibrahim, Governor Abba promised to take full responsibility for her well-being, saying he would do “everything a father would do for a daughter.”

In a symbolic gesture of solidarity, the Governor connected Ummi with his own daughter, also a law student, fostering a personal friendship to provide emotional support. Additionally, he directed that Ummi’s family be provided with adequate food supplies and pledged to make her upcoming Sallah celebration “memorable.”

In a further show of generosity, the Governor ordered that Amina, a lady who has spent years caring for Ummi, be placed on the Government House’s casual staff payroll with immediate effect.

The Governor’s actions have drawn widespread praise, with many Nigerians taking to social media to commend his empathy and swift intervention.

“May Allah make it easy for Ummi and reward Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf handsomely,” Dr. Ibrahim concluded in his heartfelt tribute.