Northern Nigeria

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

Recently, an extremely prestigious academic journal requested that I review a film made by a Nigerian. I was surprised, as that is Muhsin Ibrahim’s forte. Further, I really don’t watch Nigerian films, aka Nollywood, personally preferring African Francophone directors. Nevertheless, I agreed to do the review. 

However, the link they sent for the film was password-protected. I informed them, and they requested the filmmaker to send the password. Being a request from a highly prestigious journal, he sent the code, and I was able to get on the site and watch the film online. I was surprised at what I saw and decided to delve further into these issues. Before doing that, I wrote my review and sent it off. The film, however, set me thinking. 

Like a creeping malaise, Nollywood directors are rearing their cameras into the northern Nigerian cultural spaces. Again. The film I reviewed for the journal was “A Delivery Boy” (dir. Adekunle Adejuyigbe, 2018). It was in the Hausa language. None of the actors, however, was Hausa, although the lead actor seems to be a northerner (at least from his name since an online search failed to reveal any personal details about him). 

Nothing wrong with that. Some of the best films about a particular culture were made by those outside the culture. Being ‘outliers’, it often gave them an opportunity to provide a more or less balanced and objective ‘outsider’s perspective’ of the culture. Alfonso Cuarón, a Mexican, successfully directed “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” (2004), while Taiwanese director Ang Lee did the same with “ Brokeback Mountain” (2005), even earning him an Oscar. 

In 2006 Clint Eastwood, an American, directed “Letters From Iwo Jima.” The cast was almost entirely Japanese, and almost all of the dialogue was in Japanese. It was very well-received in Japan, and in fact, some critics in Japan wondered why a non-Japanese director was able to make one of the best war movies about World War II from the Japanese perspective. Abbas Kiarostami, an Iranian filmmaker, directed his film, “Certified Copy” (2020) in Italy, which contained French, Italian, and English dialogue starring French and British actors. 

British director Richard Attenborough successfully directed Ben Kingsley in the Indian biopic Gandhi (1982). The film was praised for providing a historically accurate portrayal of the life of Gandhi, the Indian independence movement and the deleterious results of British colonization of India. It took away eight Oscars. American director Steven Spielberg’s “Schindler’s List” (1993) on a German, Oskar Schindler, was equally a powerful portrayal of an auteur genius by a “non-native”. The film won seven Oscars. 

In each of these examples, the directors approached their subject matter with a clean, fresh and open mind that acknowledges the cultural sensitivities of the subject matter. My point is that a person, outside of a particular cultural context, can make sensitive films that portray the culture to his own culture as well as other cultures. That is not, however, how Nollywood plays when it focuses its cameras on northern Nigerian social culture. Specifically Muslims. 

I just can’t understand why they are so fixated on Muslims and the North. If the purpose of the ‘crossover’ films (as they are labelled) they make is to create an understanding of the North for their predominantly Southern audiences, they need not bother. Social media alone is awash with all the information one needs about Nigeria—the good, the bad and the ugly. You don’t need a big-budget film for that. Or actors trying and failing to convey ‘Aboki’ accents in stilted dialogues that lack grammatical context. 

Yet, they insist on producing films about Muslim northern Nigeria from a jaundiced, bigoted perspective, often couched with pseudo-intellectual veneer. To sweeten the bad taste of such distasteful films, they pick up one or two northern actors (who genuinely speak the Hausa language, even if not mainstream ethnic Hausa) and add them to the mix, believing that this will buy them salvation. For southern Nigerians, anyone above the River Niger is ‘Hausa’. 

They started in the early 2000s, and people just ignored them. The directors then included Oskar Baker (Ɗan Adamu Butulu, Abdulmalik), Yemi Laniyan (Makiyi, Uwar Gida), Tunji Agesin (Halin Kishiya), Matt Dadzie (Zuwaira), I. Nwankwo (Macijiya) and many others. These came on the heels of the massive success of “Sangaya” (dir. Aminu Muhammad Sabo, 1999) when this particular film opened up the northern Nigerian film market. 

Those Nollywood producers jumped into cash on the popularity of Hausa films and made their own for northern markets. For the most part, these early ‘crossover’ films that I refer to as ‘Northern Nollywood’ were fairly mild and evoked no reaction. They were still rejected, as the Hausa can be the most discriminatory people you can come across. If you are outside their cultural universe, you remain there. Forever. 

The few Kannywood actors eager to be seen on the ‘national stage’ allowed themselves to be used to deconstruct Islam and Muslims on the altar of filmmaking in subsequent Northern Nollywood films. Let’s not even talk about character misrepresentation, which Muhsin Ibrahim has written extensively about. In these scenarios, the usual tropes for northerners in Nollywood films is that of ‘Aboki’ (a term southern Nigerians believe is an insult to northerners, without knowing what it means), ‘maigad’ (security), generally a beggar. If they value an actor, they assign them an instantly forgettable role rather than a lead. Granted, this might be more astute and realistic marketing than ethnicity because it would be risky to give an unknown Hausa actor a significant role in a film aimed at southern Nigerians. 

A few of these types of portrayals in Nollywood included Hausa-speaking actors in films such as The Senator, The Stubborn Grasshopper, The World is Mine, Osama Bin La, Across the Border and The Police Officer. 

When Shari’a was relaunched from 1999 in many northern Nigerian States, it became an instant filmic focus for Nollywood. A film, “Holy Law: Shari’a” (dir. Ejike Asiegbu, 2001) drew such a barrage of criticism among Hausa Muslims due to its portrayal of Shari’a laws then being implemented in northern Nigeria that it caused credibility problems for the few Hausa actors that appeared in it. With neither understanding of Islam nor its context, the director ploughed on in his own distorted interpretation of the Shari’a as only a punitive justice system of chopping hands, floggings, and killings through foul-mouthed dialogue. As Nasiru Wada Khalil noted in his brilliant essay on the film (“Perception and Reaction: The Representation of the Shari’a in Nollywood and Kanywood Films”, SSRN, 2016) “the whole story of Holy Law is in itself flogged, amputated and killed right from the storyline.”

“Osama bin La” (dir. MacCollins Chidebe, 2001) was supposed to be a comedy. No one found it funny in Kano. Despite not featuring any northern actor, it was banned in Kano due to its portrayal of Osama bn Ladan, then considered a folk hero. The film was banned to avoid a reaction against Igbo merchants marketing the film. I was actually present in the congregation at a Friday sermon at Kundila Friday mosque in Kano when a ‘fatwa’ was issued on the film. Even a similar comedy, “Ibro Usama” (dir. Auwalu Dare, 2002), a chamama genre Hausa film, was banned in Kano, showing sensitivity to the subject matter. 

The reactions against crossover films seemed to have discouraged Nollywood producers from forging ahead. They returned in the 2010s. By then, northern Nigeria had entered a new phase of social disruption, and Nollywood took every opportunity to film its understanding of the issues—sometimes couched in simpering distorted narrative masquerading as social commentary—on society and culture it has absolutely no understanding of. 

In “Dry” (dir. Stephanie Linus, 2014), the director developed a sudden concern about ‘child marriage’ and its consequences. Naturally, the culprits of such marriage, as depicted in the film, are sixty-year-old men who marry girls young enough to be their granddaughters. The director’s qualification to talk about the issue (which was already being framed by child marriage controversy in the north) was that she has ‘visited the north’ a couple of times. With the film, if she could get at least “one girl free and open the minds of the people, and also instruct different bodies and individuals to take action, then the movie would have served its purpose.” The ‘north’ was living in darkness, and it required Stephanie Linus to shed light on ‘civilization’. 

 “A Delivery Boy” (dir. Adekunle Adejuyigbe, 2018) that I reviewed was about an ‘almajiri’ in an Islamic school who was kidnapped from the school, to begin with and repeatedly raped by his ‘Alamaramma’ (teacher). The almajiri somehow acquired sticks of dynamite to create a suicide vest and vowed to blow himself up—together with the teacher. The Alaramma in the film lives in an opulent mansion, far away from the ‘almajirai’. In this narrative universe, the ‘almajiri’ do not learn anything and are unwilling rape victims of their teaches who actually kidnapped them and forced them into the schools. 

“The Milkmaid” (dir. Desmond Ovbiagele, 2020) evokes the idealistic picture of a Fulani milkmaid and became a basis for a Nollywood film. Instead of focusing on the political economy of the Fulani milk trade, the film focused on the trope of terrorism. “The Black Book” (dir. Editi Effiong, 2023), touted as ‘Nigeria’s John Wick’ shoots a significant portion in ‘the north’ – with ‘Islamist’ hijab-wearing females touting assault rifles hidden underneath their hijab. “Jalil” (dir. Leslie Dapwatda, 2020) visits the recurrent theme of kidnapping for ransom. In the north, of course. 

Then came the latest, “Almajiri” (dir. Toka McBaror, 2022). Claimed to be a true-life story (although it is not clear whether it happened to specific people or based on what the director believed to be a common event), it featured muscle-bound badass types of thugs with guns and dreadlocks as Almajirai. The film reinforces the southern Nigerian trope of any beggar in the north being an Almajiri. Such ‘almajiris’ are kidnapped and sold into virtual slavery and horribly abused. The idea is to blame the parental irresponsibility of northerners. 

For southern Nigerians, especially the Nollywood crowd, an ‘Almajiri’ is a beggar, a product of a failed education system, a terrorist, a bandit, and an ‘aboki’. They use concocted figures bandied about by alphabet soup agencies to proclaim ‘over 10 million almajiri are out of school’ and, therefore, twigs of the terrorism inferno. How can someone who has been part of a system of education for over half a century be considered out of school? But for Nollywood, if it is not ABCD, then it is not education. 

“Northern Nollywood” films are the precise reasons why there will ALWAYS be different film cultures in Nigeria. Kannywood talks to its publics, happily churning out now TV shows that address issues it deems relevant—in its own way. Both the northern and southern parts of the country (covering the three major languages) were actively engaged. However, they were mutually non-legible to each other. This was essential because they operate on virtually opposing cultural mindsets – making the emergence of a truly “Nigerian cultural film” impossible. 

Quite a few writers seem to suggest that Kannywood is a ‘subset of Nollywood’, and indeed, many would prefer for the term Kannywood (created in 1999 by a Hausa writer) to be dispensed with and replaced with Nollywood (created in 2002 by a Japanese Canadian writer). It is to protect our cultural representation in films that I stand as a lone voice in advocating for a ‘Hausa Cinema’ to reflect the cultural universe of the Hausa.

Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu can be reached via auadamu@yahoo.com.

By Dr Raji Bello

Following encouragement from some friends, let me say what I’ve been a bit reluctant to say. It is based on my conviction as a dispassionate and non-partisan observer and of course, as a non-indigene of Kano State.

The root cause of the emirship imbroglio in Kano, in my view, was the inability of Muhammadu Sanusi II to subordinate himself and his office to the Ganduje administration as required by the terms of his appointment. This is essentially what triggered every other thing that has happened and which has led us to where we are today. To correct any problem permanently, we need to examine its root cause.

I am not saying that Sanusi is not an emir of high intellect who is enormously popular among the people. This assessment of mine is based on only one criterion — his willingness or ability to comply with the terms of his appointment — and it is made without prejudice to his qualities, endowments and accomplishments as an individual, technocrat and emir. Like other human beings, the emir is not perfect. He might have excelled in 9 out of 10 criteria but his failure in the 10th is the cause of the emirship crisis because it happened to be a very important criterion.

All post-colonial emirs and traditional rulers have been obligated to demonstrate loyalty and due courtesy to government be it colonial, democratic or military. History is replete with examples of the huge price that was exacted each time an emir fell short on loyalty towards government.

As an intellectual of high standing, the emir must have been aware of that history. When he set out to be emir, he should have been conscious of the terms of appointment and should have fully reflected on whether it was the appropriate platform for someone of his disposition or not. The emir seems to want the Kano emirship in its pristine 19th century form when it didn’t answer to a non-traditional authority. This betrays a lack of situational awareness and good judgement because the reality is that the 19th century is long gone and can never be brought back. So if anyone is interested in becoming emir in the 21st century, it has to be under 21st century terms.

The Ganduje administration had accused the emir of multiple infractions from political partisanship, insurbordination and failure to demonstrate courtesy towards it. Some of these infractions had played out in public for all to see and hear which means that they were not false accusations. I do not fully endorse the former government’s actions (which bore traces of the usual Nigerian impunity) but it is clear that it was provoked into taking actions against the emir. I believe that all state governments are inclined by default to respect the traditional institutions within their states and hostilities only break out when there is a breach of the terms of appointment (usually, but not always) on the part of the traditional rulers.

There is no individual who is so important or popular that they would enjoy exemptions from complying with the terms of their appointment. This is an incontrovertible fact. A friend told me that the emirship style of Aminu Ado Bayero is a bit bland compared to that of Muhammadu Sanusi II. I replied that this is true but the Aminu style is actually the correct one.

Post-colonial emirship is not a radical or revolutionary platform and, after the 1976 Local Government Reforms, the traditional institutions in northern Nigeria lost all the vestiges of authority that were previously delegated to them under the Native Authority system. The post of traditional ruler is now just a custodianship of heritage whose essential features are loyalty, co-operation and circumspection.

Yes, Sanusi is wildly popular, has a deeper intellect, a gifted oratory and displays a higher sartorial elegance but it was Aminu Bayero who was doing the emirship correctly under its current terms. Those who cheered Sanusi as he breached the terms of his appointment were not helping him or the Kano emirship institution.

By Muhammad Suleiman Yobe 

The Chairman of the technical committee on the mini sports festival, Alhaji Musa Muhammad Yaalleman, also the chairman of the Jigawa State Badminton Association, went around to supervise the preparations to kick off the Jigawa State Mini Sports Festival 2024 across the five selected participating associations.

During the supervision, the chairman was accompanied by the senior special assistant on sports and other members of the technical committee. He commended the executive governor of the state, Mallam Umar Namadi, for approving the conduct of the festival for the teeming youths in the state.

He said the state has many potential and talented youths, which, if properly utilised, will make the state more productive in all sporting activities.

He equally appreciates the efforts of the state commissioner of sports, Hon. Sagir Ahmad, for giving all associations the necessary support directly to organise their program and selecting the experienced team to handle the successful conduct of the program.

He said that these initiatives have immensely benefited the association in terms of court repair, sporting equipment purchases, and the rest.

He thanked the governor and Commissioner for sports for fulfilling their promise about the conduct of this festival.

He also appealed to the Commissioner to make this program quarterly, as this would help reduce tension and crime and increase revenue and employment for the state.

By Sabiu Abdullahi 

The Flame Tree Writers’ Project, in partnership with the Heinrich Böll Foundation, has announced a call for applications for a writers’ workshop targeting emerging writers from Northern Nigeria.

The initiative aims to support young writers in honing their craft and envisioning a more democratic and peaceful Nigeria.

According to Abubakar Adam Ibrahim, founder of the Flame Tree Writers’ Project, “This has been a passion project of mine for so long, and I am excited that, with the support of the Heinrich Böll Foundation, it is coming to fruition.”

The workshop, scheduled for June 24–28, 2024, in Abuja, will be co-facilitated by NLNG Nigeria Prize–winning authors Abubakar Adam Ibrahim and Chika Unigwe.

Participants will receive guidance in writing a short story suitable for publication in an anthology. 

Ere Amachree, Program Manager at the Heinrich Böll Foundation, noted, “The foundation is excited about the Flame Tree Writers’ Project, as it advances our vision of promoting writing as a means of political expression, just like Heinrich Böll, the German writer after whom our foundation is named.” 

The call for applications is exclusively for writers from the 19 Northern States of Nigeria, aged between 18 and 35. Female emerging writers are strongly encouraged to apply. 

Interested participants must meet the eligibility criteria and submit their applications to flametreewritersproject@gmail.com by June 1, 2024. 

Encouraging writers to apply, Mr. Abubakar said, “It’s not just a workshop but a project that will publish the stories from the workshop in an anthology of new writing and get them into institutions of learning, where they will be taught as part of the growing and exciting corpus of literature from this part of the country.”

By Rabiu Isah Hassan

Citing the killing of an army officer by bandits in Katsina recently, Sheikh Musa Yusuf Assadussunnah shows the futility of military measures in resolving the pastoralist-peasant conflict in northern Nigeria. By this daring act, the insurgents have demonstrated that the military, much less the vigilante, cannot end the insurgency. According to him, the only solution is a truce. From other sermons by clerics and numerous online items from the conflict area, it appears Assadussunnah is misreading the situation. Not only are the insurgents receiving severe setbacks, but the signs are also ominous. 

The army officer might have been killed not because the troops were weak or ill-equipped but because he exposed himself to unnecessary danger. The way the vigilante and locals praise his determination and commitment suggests he might have been motivated to sacrifice himself for Nigeria and significantly for a Hausa cause. In a way, the prolongation and viciousness of the conflict have started affecting the soldiers on the ground; as in any internal crisis, the armed forces, which are supposed to be neutral, are gradually and inexorably drawn into its vortex.

No group has drawn the wrath of most Nigerian groups, perhaps except for the Igbo during the Nigerian crisis of 1966-1970, like the ethnic Fulani presently. Anti-Fulani sentiments, always simmering below the surface mainly due to perceived historical wrongs, are now erupting due to the current widespread atrocities of mostly pastoral Fulani. An inchoate coalition of mostly Hausa youths and northern minorities is emerging based on shared grievances against the Fulani. Their violent rhetoric, both online and offline, reflects the extent to which the Fulani have slipped down from decent beings and citizens to savages and aliens. No amount of infractions against the ethnic Fulani is seen as grotesque or repugnant.

The troops on the ground and the Hausa vigilante have fused into a hardened armed fist against their perceived enemy. From diverse reports, a discernible pattern is emerging. As the soldiers attack the bandits, the vigilante form their rear, mopping up any stragglers and often dispersing or exterminating ethnic Fulani along their path. The vigilante are also at liberty to arrest, detain, and kill any ethnic Fulani or Hausa informers in an attempt to root out collaborators or destroy the bandits’ supply channels. When the bandits feel the heat, they attack, maim, and kill Hausa peasants randomly. They threaten to stop farming this season, forcing the government and the sedentary population into another truce. This only inflames the soldiers and the vigilante, resulting in more indiscriminate attacks against ethnic Fulani.

Some Islamic clerics still maintain that military operations will not end the insurgency and that the government should negotiate with the bandits to end the bloodletting. These statements make the bandits believe in their invincibility anddangerously encourage them to see their actions as serving an ethnic cause. In a bizarre twist, the bandits have come to link their survival with that of the ethnic Fulani. Since they no longer see themselves as the cause of the Fulani predicament, their removal from the scene is out of the question. This intransigence is further fueling the binary that currently pits the Fulani against the Hausa. Thus, instead of viewing the conflict as occupational and the bandits as criminals, some sections of the ulema have come to regard it as communal, with the insurgents seen as activists.

What some clerics and others fail to appreciate is that both the Hausa-speaking sedentary population of the Northwest and the pastoral Fulani have become one community through centuries of exchange. The pastoral Fulani are essentially an occupational and remnant group continuously absorbed into the general Hausa population. In other words, they do not exist as separate and closed groups. Like similar groups throughout history, the bandits are deviants that have emerged due to internal crises. They need to be tamed or destroyed, not hailed as vanguards of any ethnic group.

With the bandits vowing to fight to the bitter end, they risk dragging the rest of the ethnic Fulani into the abyss with them. The intensity and randomness of their attacks testify to this deranged stance. The indiscriminate reprisals from the other side are making life unbearable for the ethnic Fulani. As the noose tightens around them, there is little chance for their offspring to continue the fight as they hope. A war of attrition would only lead to their decimation; they cannot withstand the combined strength of the Nigerian state and the Nigerian masses. 

Unlike the Igbo, who returned to their homeland following the pogroms in Northern Nigeria, the ethnic Fulani are losing their remaining sanctuaries. If the war becomes protracted or its viciousness intensifies, the country risks sliding into the fate of Mali and Burkina Faso. With the bandits terrorising almost half of the country and the army engaged in fighting them in about a quarter of it, hatred against the Fulani is increasing among the soldiers. 

Like the inchoate movement developing among the ethnic Hausa and northern minorities online, a conspiratorial group with similar configuration and motivation could develop within the army. Given the toxicity across the land and the increasing hardship, they might attempt a putsch. As in Mali and Burkina Faso, where the raison d’être of the juntas is the containment of the Fulani in the case of the former and their destruction in the latter’s case, an idealistic junta in Nigeria would unleash its reign of terror not only against the ethnic Fulani but also against their symbols.

There is only one possible way to avert this Armageddon. Many groups before them have avoided this ruinous outcome. Recently, the Kanuri, who formed the bulk of the supporters of Boko Haram, quietly abandoned their weapons and dispersed among the general population as the magnitude of the catastrophe loomed. The followers of Maitatsine had followed the same course after realising the folly of confronting the state. After valiant resistance against Rabeh at the end of the nineteenth century, many Kanuri surrendered, and others fled. The leaders of the Sokoto Caliphate retreated in the face of superior arms. After their defeat at Burmi, a few withdrew from the territory and eventually submitted to the British authorities in Sudan. At the same time, the majority reconciled themselves to the new order in Northern Nigeria. When the Biafran secessionists realised that their intransigence would only lead to more destruction of the Igbo, they removed themselves from the scene to pave the way for surrender. These were the practical and noble paths taken in Germany and Japan at the end of the Second World War and countless previous conflicts. 

The preservation of the ethnic Fulani must supersede the bandits’ ego, and only surrender would spare their kinsmen from possible destruction. They should give themselves up and be tried in a military tribunal. Like the Nuremberg trials at the end of the Second World War, they must be sentenced based on the gravity of their offences. The minors could be assembled and enrolled in a rehabilitation program. A bold resettlement and integration plan must be rolled out for the pastoral Fulani. Parallel communities should not be allowed to resurface; the pastoralists should be settled among the sedentary population to end mistrust and bigotry. The homogeneous, stable, and prosperous nation that would emerge would be the compensation for these painful sacrifices. 

Rabiu Isah Hassan wrote from the Arewa House/Department of History, ABU Zaria. He can be contacted at rabiurafani@gmail.com.

By Kamal Buba Danladi

Amina Buba is the first female urologic surgeon from Northern Nigeria, and we got the opportunity to have a quick chat with her after achieving another milestone by being awarded the Mbonu/Anugwu prize as the best candidate in the West African College of Surgeons Urology Fellowship Examinations. This also makes her the third female urologist to be awarded the Urology prize in the college’s nearly 60-year history. 

Can you share some insights into your journey to becoming a urology specialist?

Interestingly, my journey into Urology was never planned. In fact, throughout medical school, I never contemplated specialising in Urology. I wanted to become a gynaecologist. I attended conferences and even won a prize for my work in obstetrics and gynaecology as a medical student. However, when I qualified as a doctor and did a rotation in gynaecology, I quickly realised that the surgery attracted me to that speciality. I also didn’t quite enjoy the immense pressure that obstetricians faced (with respect to my O&G colleagues). Long story short, I began my surgical training by writing the Membership examinations of the Royal College of Surgeons, England. Then, I returned home to start my residency at the University of Abuja Teaching Hospital, Gwagwalada, to become a Breast/Oncoplastic surgeon.  

My first rotation as a surgical trainee was in Urology, and I fell in love with this speciality. I worked in a team where, despite the challenges of practising in Nigeria, people gave their best care to patients. I love that there are so many subspecialties in Urology and that it is constantly evolving. I owe a lot of my success to the people who taught and inspired me at the University of Abuja Teaching Hospital, where I started and completed my surgical training.

 What challenges did you encounter during your urology fellowship preparation, and how did you overcome them?

Training to become a fellow is a lengthy process that requires tenacity, physical and mental strength, and God’s guidance. It is also a great lesson in the power of patience and perseverance. Willpower and unshakeable faith are what got me through. I always “prayed like I didn’t work hard and worked like I didn’t pray.” I am so thankful to God for His continuous grace, mercy, and guidance.

Throughout my training, I was very fortunate to have had a solid support system, which superseded the noise of the few people who tried to discourage me. I always give credit to my family, friends and bosses. My parents never questioned my decision to specialise in a male-dominated speciality; instead, they constantly motivated me. My mum is a nurse by profession, so she understands medical terminology. Sometimes, I would sit her down and explain what I have studied during my exam preparation. She would ask me questions and challenge me.

My mum would surprise me with study desks and chairs when she noticed my posture changed because of long study hours. My dad would sometimes stay up late to wake me up to study, and my two older sisters are priceless! They were always at the other end of the phone, full of encouraging words. I also have a very small but close network of friends on speed dial. I cannot even begin to speak about the immense support I had from certain colleagues and bosses. There are too many names to mention, but I am sure they’ll know I am talking about them when they read this.

I found studying for a major examination difficult while still working full-time. I would sometimes function on 4 hours of sleep at night. I quickly learnt how to utilise every single minute of the day. I also learnt that the fellowship examination tests cumulative surgical knowledge gained over several years of training. Preparing for the fellowship exams starts on day 1 of surgical residency. I think I calmed down a bit with “burning the midnight oil” when I recognised this.

 How does it feel to be recognised as the Best Candidate in Urology by the West African College of Surgeons?

It’s very humbling! I feel deeply honoured, and I don’t think words can adequately capture how it feels to have one’s work recognised like this.

 As the third woman to win the Urology prize in the West African College of Surgeons history, what message do you have for other aspiring female surgeons?

Do not be blinded by the ‘female surgeon’ title. As my colleagues would say, ‘We are all surgeons, and there is no woman in surgery’. Your patients depend on you just as they do your male colleagues, so do not expect any special treatment because of your gender. After all, when you are standing in the operating room, knife in hand, those bleeding blood vessels do not bleed less ‘because the surgeon is a woman’. However, they bleed less in the hands of a skilled surgeon who dissects with care and sticks to the right surgical planes. Surgery is an apprenticeship; mastery is key, so work hard, and your work will speak for itself by God’s grace. I am still a work in progress, and I am constantly learning. I believe the only way to achieve prowess is through hard work. There are no shortcuts in surgery. Strive for excellence and do not accept mediocrity.

What advice would you give to medical students or young professionals interested in pursuing a career in urology?

Believe in yourself. I do not have two heads. If I can do it, so can you. Remember, dishonesty is the greatest disservice you can do to yourself, so be honest with yourself. And carefully introspect – why do you want to do this? Do you enjoy helping people? Do you have the tenacity? Can you work under stress and pressure? If yes – then go for it and give it your best. Maintain a good work-life balance whilst at it. Make sure you have a life outside of Surgery, identify good mentors, work hard and pray hard.

How do you plan to continue contributing to the urology and surgical education field in West Africa?

I plan to assume clinical, teaching and managerial roles in shaa Allah. I would like to see universal health coverage in Nigeria being established in my lifetime. Like I always say, our leaders ought to focus more on healthcare. The knock-on effects of neglecting healthcare systems are numerous. For example, regarding surgical training, you need patients to train appropriately. Patients are unwell and need to be treated whilst surgeons need to operate. The more surgeries a surgeon performs, the better they get. Where will you get the caseload/volume from if people are too poor to go to hospitals because they cannot afford to pay out of pocket, as seen today in most parts of the country? Let’s not even talk about the detrimental human, personal and economic effects of a lack of universal health coverage.

 What role do you see for women in urology in the future, both in West Africa and globally?

Globally, women are doing great things in Urology. For example, one of the global experts in Holmium laser enucleation of the prostate is an American female urologist called Amy Krambeck. Canadian and Swedish studies published in reputable journals have found patient outcomes to be better when operated on by female surgeons. As stated by Prof McNally in an article published recently, “Those women who have gone through the extraordinarily complex, difficult hurdles to become surgeons are the best of the best”.

Here in West Africa, we slowly embrace the idea that women in surgery are here to stay and that we can only grow from strength to strength. I soon saw women in urology become experts in their chosen subspecialties, delivering world-class surgical care and taking on teaching, leadership, and managerial roles as they changed the narrative and inspired future generations. Remember that women are natural multi-taskers!       

By Saifullahi Attahir Wurno 

The word success always carries a nostalgic feeling throughout history. It’s a word that everyone wants to associate with, and it can be seen as fulfilling one’s desire to live a happier, easier, contented life.

Many people ask what causes success. The only answer is hard work, but is hard work really the answer to success? We daily encounter people who are more hardworking than us but who are a hundred times below us in terms of success or living a comparatively easy life.

This article is based on Malcolm Gladwell’s book The Outliers: The Story of Success. The author tries to gather all the apparent and hidden factors that led to the monumental achievement of a few individuals, including athletes, footballers, artists, businessmen, prominent law practitioners, scientists, doctors, and more. 

Outlier is an English word that means someone outside the normal frame, people who have achieved tremendous success and fortune beyond average individuals. Examples include Lionel Messi in football, Bill Gates in computer, Dr Ben Carson in medicine, Usain Bolt in sports, outstanding political leaders in history, writers, etc.

The author concluded that outliers are those who have been given opportunities and who have had the strength and presence of mind to seize them. Most outliers are products of history, of the community in which they were born and raised, of opportunity, and of legacy.

Here is a story:

Ahmad was born in 1995 to a low-income family in Kafin Hausa town. His father’s sources of income are peasant farming and radio repair. His mother was a housewife who mainly depended on her husband for her daily needs and those of her children.

This family of 7 was completely dependent on their father’s meagre income and the small farm that Ahmad always accompanied his father to whenever he went on holidays. This taught Ahmad the habit of hard work early in life.

His father had a primary school level of education, while his mother had good Islamic knowledge but had not attended Western education. This motivated Ahmad to be very passionate about studying higher and becoming someone later in life. 

Ahmad lacks the luxury that may distract his attention; his father’s constant advice and natural ingenuity make him a bright child in primary school. He surpasses his classmates. He finishes top of his class and is admitted into the prestigious Science Secondary school Kafin Hausa.

At school, Ahmad met other young, ambitious, and bright students from all over the state, giving him the opportunity to network, learn, and challenge himself to further academic excellence.

In 2013, at 18, Ahmad graduated from GSSS Kafin Hausa with seven credits in his WAEC result (including all five science subjects). Luckily enough, the government of that period under Alhaji Sule Lamido requested students who have five credits and above in WAEC to submit their papers for scholarship screening.

To cut the story short, Ahmad got a Scholarship to Study Aviation Engineering in Egypt. He graduated successfully and secured a job with a big Airline company in Lagos. From then on, his life and destiny changed forever.

 Using the above story, let us analyse some of the factors that lead to young Ahmad’s success;

Studies have shown that family background plays a critical role in how people are raised and what they end up becoming. Despite his parents’ lack of deeper knowledge of Western education, they have inculcated a strong desire for their children to excel.

Another advantage of the family background was the lack of luxury, which helped Ahmad be less distracted and more focused on his studies. Imagine if he had been born into an affluent family surrounded by television, watching cartoons or comedies daily, or his father had been into the habit of buying them mobile phones and other game gadgets. Definitely, that would have distracted his attention, making him less energetic and determined to escape the poverty line.

Good networking was essential for attaining success in life. Ahmad’s interaction with other boys with similar interests, ambitions, and determination while studying at GSSS Kafin Hausa played a monumental role in catapulting him higher on the ladder of success. If he had been brilliant enough but had graduated from one local and poorly equipped secondary school, the story might have been different.

Right timing was also an important factor; had it been Ahmad graduated a year or two before Lamido started awarding the scholarship, no matter how brilliant or the excellence of his SSCE, he might have ended up studying in one of the local colleges of Education or polytechnic.

Of course, success occurs most often when preparation meets opportunity. God has guided Ahmad to prepare well for his exams and classes, reading the extra mile, reading past questions, and networking with the right people. So, when the time for the WAEC and the Scholarship exam came, he was unaware, so he excelled.

Many people only wish to succeed but never prepare ahead of time. In the end, remember that Success is Ultimately THE GRACE OF GOD, whose benevolence gathers all the above factors to work for you when he decides for you to succeed at something.

Saifullahi Attahir Wurno is a medical student at Federal University, Dutse. He can be reached via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Isyaku

The challenges faced by private school teachers in Nigeria are weighty. Many feel undervalued and disrespected by school proprietors, who often fail to treat them as equals. Despite their qualifications, teachers find themselves in dehumanising situations where their salaries are insufficient to meet their basic needs.

In Nigeria, private school teachers, particularly those working at the crèche, nursery, primary, and secondary levels of education, are akin to pumpkins in deserted homesteads because most school proprietors don’t treat them as fellow humans.

Imagine someone who has never paid your school fees; they just met you as a graduate with your qualifications, but because you are working under them, it would be dehumanising to you as if what they pay you could cater to your life demands.

Private school teachers are going through tough situations, and some of them contribute to their misfortunes because they are stuck in monster schools where they are not respected and dignified. If not for weaklings and silly-minded teachers, how could you choose to continue working with a proprietor who doesn’t respect your persona?

Some proprietors would shout at teachers in front of the students or their parents, giving students much higher priority than teachers in some schools. Some proprietors would prefer losing a teacher to losing a student, and the only excuse they have is that they might use the money to employ another teacher to replace the one they lost but could not use the funds to bring in students to their school, which is a terrible idea to me.

Furthermore, private school students are often disrespectful. Most of them don’t exhibit good manners in school, and their reason for misbehaving toward teachers or other school personnel is that their parents pay for their school fees, so they should be exempted from discipline. In contrast, students in public schools behave better because the government pays for them and provides everything for them for free.

In my experience, the most annoying place for a graduate to work is a private school. Though not all private school students are hellish or mannerless, some respect us as our younger siblings do at home. I won’t fail to admit that but the majority are not well-mannered. 

Most of the management in those schools doesn’t respect the welfare of their staff, but they want teachers to do a donkey job for them in the school. Some even have the manner of owing salaries; some would pay but not complete; some would pay, but teachers have to buy all the textbooks needed for their subjects.

I don’t want to be on record saying all proprietors are bad. Some are good and nice to work with, but others are pharaohs in human skins. My only candid advice for young graduates of either NCE or degree programs to work for private schools is for experience’s sake, nothing more or less.

Suppose one works in a private school before getting employment by the government or any private sector. In that case, he will learn much more, especially by being contemptuous and modest, because the salary can never be enough. Though nothing can be reached in this life, patience is the key.

However, in a private school, if one is to calculate what he is earning, even a pure water hawker could be earning more than he does in a month if all the daily earnings are to be calculated at the end of the month. 

I advise graduates to look for alternatives to teaching in private schools because those proprietors would exploit them and get richer through their sweat while they are getting poorer. The annoying part is that they don’t appreciate your effort. If they did, they should have found a token or incentive to offer you or pay while on vacation, but they won’t. All they do is let the month end before they pay you the salary.

People, especially young graduates, should go and learn skills or other business because teaching in private schools is not for them and can never contain their needs, especially in this hard-hit Nigeria. I am saying this from experience and as a private school teacher presently.

Moreover, for those who might be stricken or hurt by my words, I want to categorically state that I owe nobody an apology whatsoever. If you are unhappy with my submission, you can write a rejoinder and counter-argue.

Muhammad Isyaku wrote via muhammadisyakumalumfashi@gmail.com.

By Wonderful Adegoke

In a Northern Nigerian region plagued by stereotypes and obstacles to academic success, Khalilat Bello’s unwavering advocacy for academic excellence has defied all the odds and carved a path to success. Her journey is not only inspiring but also a testament to the power of perseverance and determination.

Hailing from Offa Local Government Area in Kwara State, Khalilat came to terms with her fate of studying Applied Chemistry at Usmanu Danfodiyo University Sokoto (UDUS) after realizing that pursuing a medical degree would be a forlorn attempt. She accepted her new path and threw herself into her studies, determined to make the most of her time at the university.

Khalilat recounted, “Reflecting on the past, there has never been a record of my struggling in the field of chemistry. When I graduated from secondary school, I was awarded for being the best student in chemistry. Moving forward, my interest in the subject deepened.”

Khalilat’s Resolute Grit

Fully aware of undergraduates’ volatile academic experience, she subsisted her academic pursuits by attending lectures regularly and taking tutorials on obscure courses.

“Earning 4.89 on a 5.0 CGPA scale in 100-level compelled me to give it my all,” she enthused, revealing how she persevered among a class of brainy students who were in healthy competition with each other.

“As an ardent believer in hard work, I spent countless hours reading and writing, thoroughly studying the materials. Attending tutorials, brainstorming and sharing ideas with my classmates helped out in some challenging courses.

On the subject of long-term concentration during reading, “The goal I had in mind kept me going and helped manage distractions.”

Though actively involved in extracurricular activities and has served as the one-time Vice President of her departmental association, she added, “All engagements are brought to an abeyance during tests and exams.”

“I’m immensely grateful to God for being the top student in my department with the highest CGPA of 4.85. I attribute this achievement to the self-discipline I developed in my early days and the encouragement I received from my friends and family.”

Remain Committed — Khalilat advises undergraduates

Khalilat warns against inconsistency and advises undergraduates to be committed and hardworking. “Hard work helps mitigate against gratuitous results.”

By Isma’il Hashim Abubakar 

Dr. Bashir Aliyu Umar was the second teacher whose tafsir I did not miss not only this year’s Ramadan but also many years ago. I had the privilege of attending the tafsir personally several times, which was conducted at Al-Furqān Mosque at GRA, Kano before I left Nigeria five years ago. Dr. Bashir’s erudition and dexterity in addressing contemporary issues that were paraded to him while using sophisticated jurisprudential techniques are enough credentials to attract listeners and students like me.

Additionally, I personally cherished the tafsir session because whenever I heard Malam Sa’idu Harun, the recitation assistant (mai jan baki), it reminded me of Shaykh Ja’far’s tafsir which always proved unique with the recitation of Malam Sa’idu. Dr Bashir’s tafsir would appeal to intellectuals and listeners with a background in Western education. 

Dr Bashir explained verses which mention scientific and universal phenomena excellently and more lucidly. Atheists would find the correct answers to many of their questions and clear up many misconceptions through the exegetical exercises undertaken by Dr Bashir. Drawing on a view of the late Shaykh Isa Waziri on a similar issue, Dr. Bashir, in one of his tafsir sessions, argued that Nigerians are likely robbed of divine bounties similar to what befell the inhabitants of Saba’. 

Dr Bashir is an extraordinarily easygoing and calm person, so much so that at times, he allowed his recitation assistant to decide which question he would respond to either due to its substance or when there was no time and the recitation assistant was eager to fill the venue with his sonorous voice. 

I was surprised, however, when during the closing session of this year’s tafsir on the 28th day of Ramadan, Dr Bashir refused to answer a question about the legal status of bleaching in Islam, which, according to the questioner, has been said to be lawful by some scholars. Dr Bashir’s refusal to respond to the question elicited the interest of the audience to unanimously thundered “Allahu Akbar”, which left a suggestion that the answer to the question was well known to everyone and it might have just been posed to trigger needless, belated controversy. Unlike many scholars, Dr Bashir does not bother to ask new converts if they were forced or they willingly chose and decided to embrace Islam. 

One of the unique episodes with which Dr Bashir’s final tafsir has been characterised for some years is the courtesy visit of his nonagenarian father to bless the occasion and, at times, make sobering reflections on some of the clerical trajectories of his scholar-son. To my knowledge, only Dr Bashir is continuously lucky to have his aged and royal figure father appear during his tafsir and publicly endorse his son’s venture.

Isma’il writes from Rabat and is reachable via ismailiiit18@gmail.com.