Northern Nigeria

By Umar Sani Adamu

The Almajiri system, once a noble pursuit of Islamic knowledge, has degenerated into a humanitarian disaster spread across Northern Nigeria. From the streets of Kano to the slums of Sokoto, thousands of children wander barefoot, hungry, and hopeless victims of a tradition that has outlived its purpose.

The idea behind Almajiranci was simple: young boys, mostly from rural or poor families, would be sent to Islamic scholars for religious education. But over time, what began as a pathway to learning became a pipeline to poverty, abuse, and neglect. Today, these children beg for survival, live in unhygienic conditions, and face constant exposure to criminality and exploitation.

Every year, thousands more are pushed into this cycle. With no formal curriculum, no sanitation, no feeding structure, and no monitoring, the system violates every principle of child welfare and human dignity. Many of these almajiris live in overcrowded, unventilated rooms, sometimes as many as 18 children in a single space, with no access to health care, no protection, and no future.

While governments talk reform, very little action meets the urgency. Integration programs are underfunded, religious institutions are left unchecked, and families often forced by poverty continue to submit their children to this outdated system. Meanwhile, the streets of Northern Nigeria grow more unsafe as vulnerable children are manipulated by extremist groups and criminal syndicates.

Let’s be clear: the Almajiri system, in its current form, is not education. It is abandonment. It is state-sanctioned child endangerment masquerading as religion. Any society that claims moral or spiritual uprightness cannot continue to tolerate this level of systemic neglect.

What Northern Nigeria needs is not a patchwork of reforms, but a complete overhaul. Islamic education should be formalised, monitored, and integrated into the broader national curriculum. Children should learn in safe environments where Qur’anic knowledge is integrated with literacy, numeracy, hygiene, and vocational training. Religious scholars must be trained, certified, and held accountable.

Above all, we must shift the responsibility from children back to adults. Governments, communities, parents, and religious leaders must admit the system has failed and work together to end it. The Almajiri child deserves more than survival. He deserves dignity, opportunity, and a future.

This is not just a social concern. It is a national emergency.

Umar Sani Adamu can be reached via umarhashidu1994@gmail.com

By Usman Abdullahi Koli, ANIPR

Some lives are measured in years, others in titles, and some in possessions. The rarest and most enduring lives are measured in the hearts they touch and the hope they restore. Dr Bala Maijama’a Wunti belongs firmly in that rare place. His journey has been one of resilience and quiet strength, of rising from hardship to become a fountain of generosity whose waters reach far beyond the place where they spring.

Born on 8th August 1966, his earliest years were marked by a loss that would shape the rest of his life. Losing both parents as a child meant entering the world with an emptiness most could never imagine. Those days were not kind; survival was his only option. There were no easy comforts, no safety nets, only the will to push forward and the dream that tomorrow could be better.

Instead of allowing hardship to harden him, it softened him in extraordinary ways. The hunger he knew became a hunger to feed others. The loneliness he endured became a desire to stand by those who had no one to stand by. The obstacles he faced became a determination to clear the paths for others. He did not allow pain to turn into bitterness; he transformed it into kindness.

Over the years, giving has become so deeply ingrained in his life that it no longer feels like charity; it feels like breathing. He has lifted burdens that would have crushed families, stepped in quietly where hope was fading, and turned despair into relief for people who may never know his face but will always remember his help. For him, giving is not a grand event; it is the natural rhythm of his days.

Only yesterday, on the eve of his birthday, he paid the full registration fees for Bauchi State indigenous Law students across Law Schools in Nigeria and added incentives to support their journey. For those young men and women, it was more than a payment. It was a belief in their dreams and a reminder that someone cares enough to invest in their future. Acts like this are not exceptions in his life; they are the pattern.

His foundation, Wunti Alkhair, is an extension of his own values. It reaches into communities, lifts the sick from their sickbeds by clearing medical bills, opens doors of opportunity for young people to acquire skills, and creates moments of dignity where they seemed lost. It strengthens faith by building and restoring places of worship, not as monuments of wealth but as sanctuaries of hope.

What makes him remarkable is not just the scale of what he gives but the sincerity with which he provides it. There is no fanfare, no calculation, no search for applause. Many of those who have felt his kindness will never meet him, yet they carry a piece of him in their stories, in their survival, and in their renewed strength to face life again.

As we celebrate his birthday, we celebrate far more than a date. We honour a man whose life is proof that greatness is not in what we take but in what we give. A man who rose through the storms of his own childhood to become a shelter for others. A man who, in a world too often cold and self-serving, has chosen to be warm and selfless.

May Allah grant him long life, good health, and the strength to keep shaping lives for the better. May his journey remind us all that no matter where we start, we can choose to live in a way that makes the world a little softer, a little fairer, and a little kinder.

Your life is not only a blessing to those who know you but to many who never will, and that is the highest form of legacy.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com.

By Dr Abubakar Bello

The recent controversy over an alleged honorary doctorate awarded to musician Alhaji Dauda Kahutu Rarara has sparked debate across northern Nigeria. Initially, reports indicated that the European-American University conferred an honorary doctorate on him in Abuja. However, days later, the institution publicly denied endorsing such an award, describing the event as fraudulent.

This is not the first time Rarara’s name has been caught in institutional back-and-forth. At one point, the Federal University Dutsin-Ma (FUDMA) was said to be planning a conference to celebrate his contributions to music and politics. Yet the university later backtracked, insisting the information was fake. The recurring pattern suggests not a lack of merit on Rarara’s part, but rather institutional hesitation in dealing with a figure whose art, political songs, and social influence are both celebrated and contested.

There is clear precedent for cultural icons receiving academic recognition. The late Mamman Shata, perhaps the most revered Hausa musician of the 20th century, was formally honoured by Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. That recognition secured his place not only in the cultural memory of the Hausa people but also in academic history. By that measure, Rarara too will, sooner or later, be recognised by universities both within Nigeria and abroad for his cultural and political contributions. The real question is: which university will take the initiative?

Across Nigeria, universities have rightly celebrated industrialists, politicians, and philanthropists with honorary degrees, sometimes even surprising their own local institutions, as happened when other universities honoured Katsina’s business mogul, Alhaji Dahiru Mangal, taking Umaru Musa Yar’adua University, his home-state university, by surprise. Yet cultural figures, especially musicians whose work captures the pulse of society, are too often overlooked until history forces recognition.

This is an opportunity for Nigerian universities to redefine what they celebrate. Honorary degrees are not just ceremonial gestures. They are statements of value, affirmations that music, political commentary, and popular culture are as vital to society as commerce and politics.

Whether in Katsina or beyond, Nigerian universities have the opportunity to lead by recognising Rarara. Doing so would not only honour one man but also promote the significance of indigenous music and political expression in our collective intellectual and cultural heritage. The controversy over fake awards should not overshadow this larger truth: Rarara’s contributions are genuine, and he deserves formal recognition.

 Dr Abubakar Bello wrote from the Department of Biological Sciences, Umaru Musa Yar’adua University, Katsina. He can be reached via bello.abubakar@umyu.edu.ng.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

The insecurity challenges in Nigeria, particularly banditry, have defied simplistic solutions. While the kinetic approach, military and law enforcement operations, has achieved some notable successes, it has not produced the outcome of sustainable peace. Instead, it has often fueled a cycle of violence between state and non-state actors, while local communities continue to suffer. To break this cycle, there is a compelling need to complement kinetic measures with non-kinetic strategies such as dialogue, community engagement, education, intelligence-driven peacebuilding, and socio-economic empowerment.

The kinetic approach is necessary but insufficient. It weakens the operational strength of criminal groups but fails to address the root causes of insecurity, such as poverty, unemployment, social injustice, and a lack of community trust in the government. In some cases, heavy-handed operations or operational errors can create resentment among local populations, inadvertently attracting recruits to criminal networks.

The non-kinetic measures are designed to fill the gaps left by the actions of military and security forces, as well as to reduce unnecessary pressures on security forces. These include: building trust through dialogue with traditional rulers, religious leaders, and local influencers, including the actors themselves; creating opportunities for youth through education, vocational training, and employment; rehabilitation and reintegration, including providing pathways for repentant bandits or militants to rejoin society; intelligence gathering and strengthening human intelligence networks within communities to prevent attacks before they occur.

In combating insecurity, multi-stakeholder engagement is imperative, as national security cannot be achieved solely by the federal government. A sustainable strategy requires the active participation of state governments in tailoring responses to local realities. Support from local governments in intelligence gathering and community mobilisation is also essential. 

Engagement of traditional and religious institutions as custodians of local values and mediators in conflict resolution, as well as collaboration with civil society and development partners to address humanitarian and socio-economic needs, is equally important. The government should also introduce local language media programs through social media and other media, it will reach and enlighten the bandits and other insurgents

The current approach of adopting a hybrid security framework that blends military action with non-kinetic approaches to create both deterrence and reconciliation is commendable. This dialogue approach should be institutionalised through community dialogue platforms. Furthermore, establishing regular consultation forums where local leaders and security agencies exchange intelligence and build trust is also important. 

Investment in youth empowerment and the development of targeted programs for skills acquisition, entrepreneurship, and agricultural employment should be integrated into the non-kinetic approach to undercut the appeal of criminal networks. 

Another vital element is strengthening data-driven decision-making by basing security strategies on rigorous research, mapping conflict-prone areas, and conducting historical analyses of community dynamics. Fighting insecurity is a continuous process; any slack will have a negative impact. Therefore, creating measurable benchmarks and developing monitoring frameworks to evaluate the success of both kinetic and non-kinetic interventions over time will be beneficial.

No government can afford to sustain a security approach that fails to deliver positive outcomes. A purely kinetic strategy risks perpetuating violence, while a strictly non-kinetic approach may embolden criminal groups. The way forward lies in a carefully balanced model that applies force where necessary, while simultaneously addressing the root causes of insecurity through dialogue, trust-building, and socio-economic development. Only by harmonising both approaches can Nigeria break the cycle of violence and build a foundation for sustainable peace and security.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Salihi Adamu

Writing A Glimpse of Takai in the History of Kano has been a personal journey for me. Growing up, I have read stories about Takai’s rich history and its impact on the Kano emirate. However, I noticed that there wasn’t a single book that told the story of Takai in a way that was easy to understand. This book is my attempt to fill that gap.

As I researched Takai’s history, I discovered many interesting stories and facts. I learned about the town’s founding, its role in the Kano Civil War, and its cultural heritage. I also met with people from Takai who shared their experiences and insights with me. Through these interactions, I gained a deeper understanding of the town’s history and its people. This book is a reflection of what I have learned, and I hope it will be a valuable resource for anyone interested in learning more about Takai.

This book is not a complete history of Takai. Instead, it’s a collection of stories and facts that give readers a glimpse into the town’s past. I have endeavoured to make the book accessible to a diverse range of readers, from those interested in history to those seeking to learn more about Takai.

One of the challenges I faced while writing this book was deciding what to include and what to leave out. Takai’s history is complex and multifaceted, with many stories that could be told. I have tried to focus on the most important events and themes, while also leaving room for further research and exploration.

I hope that A Glimpse of Takai in the History of Kano will inspire readers to learn more about Takai and its people. I also hope that it will contribute to a greater understanding and appreciation of the town’s history and culture.

I would like to thank everyone who contributed to this book, from the people of Takai who shared their stories with me to my family and friends who supported me throughout the writing process. Ultimately, this book is a labour of love, and I am proud to share it with readers. 

By Muhammad Abubakar

Shock and outrage have trailed the appearance of a notorious militia leader, Babaro, at a government-backed peace dialogue in Faskari Local Government Area on Sunday. The bandit commander, long accused of mass killings and sexual violence, arrived at the meeting heavily armed and in a convoy, alongside his fighters.

Witnesses said Babaro and his gang openly flaunted their weapons, taunted residents, and bragged that “nothing will happen to them” despite years of terrorising communities across Katsina and neighbouring states.

Babaro is accused of carrying out some of the deadliest attacks in the region, including the massacre of more than 50 worshippers during morning prayers at Unguwar Mantau Mosque in August. Survivors say the bloodstains of that slaughter are still visible on the mosque’s walls and floor. He is also alleged to have raped women and girls in front of their families, and, together with fellow warlord Kachalla Isiya Akwashi Garwa, killed an unconfirmed number of people, particularly in the Faskari axis.

In Kankara, Malumfashi, and other parts of Katsina, his name has become synonymous with fear, mass abductions, and relentless bloodshed.

The decision to give Babaro and his fighters a seat at a peace meeting has left victims’ families devastated. Relatives of abducted persons, some of whom attended the dialogue, broke down in tears as they watched the same men who killed their loved ones sit at the negotiating table with impunity.

Amnesty International Nigeria sharply criticised the development, warning that privileging armed groups while silencing victims only deepens injustice.

“The mere notion that it is now acceptable for a group of people in Nigeria to carry arms that are solely used to kill people who are never armed is unbelievable,” said Isa Sanusi, spokesperson of Amnesty International Nigeria. “The assumption that those who are carrying sophisticated arms and decorate themselves with bullet magazines can accept peace or are ready to renounce violence is faulty. Nonsense.”

Sanusi questioned how bandits like Babaro continue to obtain weapons and logistical support while victims are left unprotected, marginalised, and ignored.

The Faskari meeting has reignited anger over the government’s controversial peace overtures to armed groups in the northwest, where thousands of people have been killed, abducted, and displaced in a decade-long wave of violence.

By Usman Muhammad Salihu,

In Nigeria today, the loudest voices belong to politicians, policymakers, and power brokers. They dominate the headlines, flood our timelines, and distract us with promises that rarely survive beyond campaign seasons. Yet, the true story of this country isn’t written in the echo chambers of Abuja or the mansions of Lagos. It is written daily in the struggles, resilience, and quiet innovations of ordinary citizens.

Think about the woman who wakes before dawn to fry bean cakes by the roadside, not only to feed her children but also to put other people’s children on the road to school. Or the young graduate who, tired of waiting for white-collar jobs, starts a small business online and employs three others. These stories rarely make the news. Yet, they are the heartbeat of our nation.

But here’s the tragedy: Contemporary Nigeria seems designed to work against these everyday heroes. Power cuts paralyse small businesses. Inflation, now on food items, erodes family savings before the end of the month. Insecurity forces farmers to abandon their fields and traders to fear the road. Meanwhile, most of the political class remains locked in battles over appointments, power-sharing, and personal interests.

The question is not whether Nigeria has potential; we have repeated that mantra for decades. The real question is, when will we begin to prioritise the citizen above the system?

Imagine a Nigeria where governance shifts from elite negotiations to practical solutions: working schools, safe communities, accessible healthcare, and reliable electricity. That’s not fantasy; it is a choice.

The good news is that despite the odds, Nigerians are not waiting. Communities are solving their own problems. Tech-savvy youths are creating digital markets. Women’s cooperatives are building small savings pools. Farmers are collaborating to beat middlemen. These are the silent revolutions we must amplify, not just the failures of the elite.

If the political class won’t prioritise the citizen, then the media, civil society, and Nigerians themselves must. We must shift the spotlight from what politicians promise to what Nigerians are already doing, because that is how change starts – not from the top, but from the people who refuse to give up.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. One road leads to more political drama, endless debates, and broken promises. The other road leads to a citizen-centred nation where leaders are compelled to serve, not rule.

The choice is ours. But more importantly, the responsibility is theirs.

Usman Muhammad Salihu was among the pioneer fellows of PRNigeria and wrote from Jos, Nigeria. He can be reached via muhammadu5363@gmail.com.

By Umar Aboki

The traditional Hausa cap, also known as “Hula,” is recognised for its intricate embroidery and is often worn with traditional Hausa attire. It has a long history in Hausa land, originating as a common and traditional male garment and later evolving into a symbol of cultural, religious, social, and even political status.

Many people associate any man they see wearing a Hula with being a Muslim or Hausa or both. Yusuf Ahmad, a traditional Hausa cap seller, believes that wearing a Hausa cap is a sign that indicates someone is a Hausa man and a Muslim, and that wearing a Hausa cap is what completes a man’s decency. 

Yusuf added that the older generation of Hausa men like to wear tall Hausa caps, while the new generation prefersshorter ones. And when people come to buy caps, they mostly ask for the cheaper and lighter ones; it is the rich men who usually ask for the Zanna-Bukar and other heavier ones.

There are various types of traditional Hausa caps, including “Zanna-Bukar”, “Damanga”, “Zita”, “Maropiyya”, “Zulum” and “mu-haɗu-a-banki”. They are distinguished by factors such as the materials used to make them, their place of origin, the wearers, and their purposes, among other considerations. However, the most popular and widely worn is the “Zanna-Bukar”. Overall, the hula has evolved from being merely a piece of headwear to a symbol of cultural identity and belonging within the Hausa community and beyond. 

Malam Khamilu, a resident of Yahaya Gusau Road, Kano, claims that he wears Hausa caps frequently, especially the Zanna-Bukar. He says it is very special to him and he got his own tailor-made, specially for himself. He also considers his cap a part of his identity as a Hausa-Fulani man and a Muslim.

The Hula is not limited to being worn only within Hausa communities. It is worn by men in many populations in North Africa, East Africa, West Africa, South Asia, and the Middle East.

Zulyadaini Abdullahi Adamu, a Hausa cap knitter and seller, says he wears his Zanna-Bukar or Damanga daily, and he knits the Zanna-Bukar, Damanga and PTF, then sells them at prices ranging from eight thousand to thirty thousand Naira, and that people come to buy them from Jigawa, Maiduguri and other states and places.

Men throughout the African diaspora also wear it. Within the United States and other foreign countries, it has become primarily identified with persons of West African heritage, who wear it to show pride in their culture, history, and religion. Dauda Ibrahim Dachia, a Northern Nigerian staying in Tirana, Albania, claims to wear his traditional Hausa cap overseas, but not all the time. He usually wears it on Fridays, during Eid celebrations, or during cultural events.

It was written in an article by the Centre de l’ldentité et de la culture Africanes titled ‘The Khada Habar: A traditional hat in a Hausa environment’ that “wearing a hat is a mark of respect for oneself, above all, according to Mr. Adéyèmi “when you don’t wear a hat, traditional dress is not complete”, he insists, “it reflects a disconnect between man and his own culture”.

Muhammadu Sa’idu, another resident of Kano, claims to wear the Zanna-Bukar frequently, usually to events. He says that anytime he wears it, people respect him a lot. He also has a ‘Damanga’ but prefers wearing the Zanna-Bukar. In his case, he doesn’t usually associate Hula with the Hausa tradition or Islam.

 Sa’id Salisu Muhammad, a Hausa cap washer at Gaɗon ƙaya, says he wears traditional Hausa caps a lot, especially the Zanna-Bukar. He says that a typical Hausa man always wears the Hula to work, events and other places, so they have to always bring them in for washing. He also notes that people bring in Zanna-Bukar the most, followed by the lighter ones such as the “Maropiyya” and “Zita”.

The Hula also serves as a means for people to fit into Hausa communities, as they are seen as a symbol of identity, and provide a sense of belonging. Musa Abdulrazaq, a young man from Kaduna who studies in Kano, says anytime he is in Kano, a place where the Hausa culture is evident and vibrant, wearing the traditional Hausa cap is very important to him. Although he doesn’t wear it much back at home, he understands that it is a vital part of the culture in Kano, so he regularly wears his Hula to fit in with the people of Kano and feel at home.

However, not everyone from outside the Hausa community feels the need to identify with the Hausa people. Umar Ahmad, a Fulani man who visits Kano but has been staying here for about two years, says he doesn’t wear the traditional Hausa caps. Instead, he maintains his Fulani cap. And when asked, he said he does indeed associate the Hula with Islam and Hausa tradition.

Umar Aboki wrote via umaraboki97@gmail.com.

By Uzair Adam

The Emir of Kano, Muhammadu Sanusi II, has criticised successive governments in Northern Nigeria for neglecting education while focusing on roads and flyovers, warning that the region is sliding behind the rest of the country.

Sanusi spoke on Saturday as a panellist at the Kano International Poetry and Art Festival (KAPFES), organised by the Poetic Wednesdays Initiative, during a session themed “Beyond Words: Unlocking Northern Nigeria’s Literacy Potential.”

The former Central Bank governor recalled how Kano State sponsored his secondary and university education in the 1970s and 1980s, covering tuition, living expenses, and allowances. 

He said, “My parents did not pay a dime. Why is it that the younger generation has not been able to get those benefits? Something went wrong in terms of the political class and its priorities.”

He argued that leaders must channel “huge resources” into schools, scholarships, and teacher training rather than spending billions on physical projects. 

“It’s nice to have beautiful flyovers and underpasses, but you are building these roads for uneducated children to walk on. Who will maintain them in the future?” the Emir queried.

Describing education as the most valuable investment, Sanusi stressed that it is the only asset that cannot be inherited or taken away. 

“You can be given money, a house, or even a political position, and all of these can disappear. But once you are educated, no one, no ruler, no oppressor can take it away from you,” he said.

He linked Northern Nigeria’s current setbacks to colonial policies that discourage the growth of an intellectual Muslim class. 

According to him, Arabic literacy, despite its intellectual depth, was devalued under British rule and is still treated as illiteracy today.

Sanusi also highlighted the role of language as a barrier, calling for the adoption of mother tongues in teaching. 

“In Germany, you study in German; in France, you study in French; in China, you study in Mandarin. Why can’t a doctor be trained in Hausa, Yoruba, or Igbo?” he asked, noting that mother-tongue instruction reduces dropout rates and improves learning outcomes.

Challenging conventional views of schooling, he argued that communities should utilise available spaces, such as mosques, as temporary classrooms instead of waiting years for new buildings. 

“If a mosque is vacant between morning prayers and the afternoon, why can’t children be taught there?” he asked.

The Emir concluded with a call for leaders, policymakers, and citizens to humanise statistics. “When we say three million children are out of school, these are not just numbers. 

“This is somebody’s son, somebody’s daughter, a future mother on the street without hope. In everything we do, we must ask ourselves: who is the human being at the end of it?”

By Uzair Adam

One of the most engaging sessions of the ongoing Kano International Poetry and Art Festival (KAPFEST 2025) was the Mudi-speaking Slam Competition, which shone a spotlight on young poets with powerful performances on the theme of ‘Poetry in Times of Crisis.’

The contest, part of the three-day festival organised by the Poetic Wednesdays Initiative, featured 18 shortlisted contestants out of 65 entries. After three competitive rounds, three winners emerged, each receiving a cash prize.

Shafa’atu Ahmad won first place with a prize of N500,000, followed by Muhammad Ubandoma, who came second and received N300,000, while Nazeer Sulaiman took the third position with N200,000.

Speaking after the event, one of the judges, Abba Musa Idris, popularly known as Abdurabbihi, said the competition was both exciting and challenging.

He stated that, “Judging is never easy because everyone comes with creativity and strong emotions. But the session was impressive, especially as many contestants were performing for the first time and still advanced to later rounds.

“The whole idea is to encourage new artists, and I am impressed with the fresh voices that emerged,” Abdurabbihi added.

The festival’s Literary Lead, Abdulbasit Abubakar, described the slam as one of the most vibrant parts of KAPFEST.

He noted that, “There is always this rush of adrenaline and energy at the slam. It gives young poets the chance to be known for their craft, and seeing their passion convinces me that many of them will do great things.”

Shafa’atu, who hails from Kaduna, described her victory as both surprising and rewarding. “It feels amazing. Honestly, when I was making the pieces, I thought they weren’t good enough. But it turns out they are actually good,” she said.

She explained that all her poems were composed explicitly for the contest, drawing inspiration from her real-life experiences. 

“Every one of the poems was written because of this competition. I would like to thank Hilton Creative Arts Foundation for nurturing me, Poetic Wednesdays for making this possible, and my parents for their support.

“To every victim of crisis whose stories I borrowed to compose these pieces, I hope they find peace, and I hope it never leaves them,” she added.

The winners, all new names in the poetry scene, said the platform has given them confidence and visibility.

The slam session added colour to the festival, which also features panel discussions, exhibitions, and poetry nights, highlighting Kano’s growing place in Nigeria’s literary and artistic landscape.