The cultural and ethnic melding of Northern Nigeria’s Hausa and the Fulani people is so deep, so labyrinthine, so time-honored, and so unexampled that a fictitious ethnic category called the “Hausa-Fulani” was invented by Nigeria’s southern press to describe the emergent ethnic alchemy it has produced.
Northern intellectuals resented the label at first. For example, the late Dr. Yusufu Bala Usman, the famously iconoclastic professor of history at the Ahmadu Bello University who was ethnically Fulani and who was the scion of the Katsina and Kano royal families, condemned the hyphenation of Hausa and Fulani as both ill-willed and ignorant.
But several Northern Nigerian elites of Hausa and Fulani filiation have now enthusiastically embraced it. President Muhammadu Buhari, for instance, told the Weekly Trust in 1999 that he loved the hyphenated Hausa-Fulani identity that the southern press invented because it encapsulates the complexity of his own identity. His father is Fulani while his mother is half Kanuri and half Hausa.
More than that, though, Buhari is culturally and linguistically Hausa. Like most people in Nigeria’s northwest who trace patrilineal bloodline to the Fulani (including most of the emirs), he doesn’t speak a lick of Fulfulde (as the language of the Fulani is called in Nigeria) and is completely divorced from the culture of the “unmingled” Fulani who now live mostly in Nigeria’s northeast and in the bushes elsewhere in the country.
Over the years, the northern political elite not only used the common Islamic heritage of the Hausa and the Fulani people as an instrument to construct and cement the notion of an undivided and indivisible Hausa-Fulani identity, they also encouraged other parts of the country to see them as one, undifferentiated people.
In time, the rest of the country came to regard the Hausa and the Fulani as indistinguishable. A popular quip among the Yoruba says, “Gambari pa Fulani ko lejo ninu,” which roughly translates as “If a Hausa person kills a Fulani person, there is no case,” implying that the Hausa and the Fulani are homogenous people whose internal strife are no more than evanescent, resolvable sibling squabble.
But the emergence and unabating intensification of kidnapping for ransom and other forms of rural and urban banditry in the Northwest where most of the villains are Fulani and most of the victims are Hausa are rupturing the centuries-old ethnic harmony between the Hausa and the Fulani that Nigerians had taken for granted.
In response to the rural and urban banditry by mostly Fulani brigands against Hausa people, Hausa people have formed vigilante groups called yan sakai or yan banga for self-defense, but Fulani people say the yan banga self-defense groups often indiscriminately murder innocent Fulani people who are not even remotely connected with abductions and murders.
This has provoked an endless cycle of recriminations and retaliatory violence between Hausa and Fulani people and is threatening the age-old, Islam-inspired ethnic fusion between them.
This has been going on for years under the radar of the national and international media until BBC’s BBC Africa Eye brought it to the forefront of global attention in its Jul 24, 2022, documentary titled “The Bandit Warlords of Zamfara.” The documentary showed that although the Hausa and the Fulani share a common culture, religion, heritage, and language, they are, for the most part, divided and rarely mix in rural areas. They fight over land, water, and food.
Self-confessed Fulani bandits told the BBC that Hausa people enjoy preferential treatments in government jobs, that Fulani people face discrimination in the formal sector in northern Nigeria, and that kidnapping, banditry, and indiscriminate mass murders were the only way they could call attention to their neglect.
Following the documentary, which so unsettled the Nigerian government that local TV stations that rebroadcast it were fined, there has been an open discussion, particularly in Arewa social media circles, of hitherto culturally taboo subjects such as whether Usman Dan Fodio whose jihad inaugurated the current Fulani ruling families in much of Muslim northern Nigeria was a Hausa-hating Fulani ethnic supremacist.
Islam had been centuries old and already deeply entrenched in Hausa land before Usman Dan Fodio’s nineteenth-century jihad, which many historians have called a “Fulani war.” The well-regarded seventeenth-century Songhai Muslim scholar by the name of Ahmad Baba, for instance, had recognized Hausa land as a bastion of Islam.
In a 1613 essay titled, “Al-kashf wa-l-bayān li-aṣnāfmajlūb al-Sūdān” (translated into English as “The Exposition and Explanation Concerning the Varieties of Transported Black Africans”), he wrote that “the people of Kano, some of Zakzak [Zaria], the people of Katsina, the people of Gobir, and all of the Songhay” lived under ideal Islamic rule and could never be enslaved by other Muslims.
About 200 years later, when Dan Fodio decided to “reform” the Islam he met in Hausa land, he repudiated the Islam that the Hausa people had practiced. In his 1806 treatise titled “Bayan Wujub Al-Hijra, Ala L-Ibad,” Dan Fodio rebutted Ahmad Baba’s thesis by asserting that what was true of Hausa land when Ahmad Baba wrote, “might not necessarily be true at all other times, since every scholar relates what he sees in his own days.” Dan Fodio’s son, Muhammad Bello, also wrote Infaq al-mansur in 1813, exactly 200 years after Ahmad Baba, and contested the notion that Hausa land was ruled by Islamic precepts.
Now, in everyday dialogic engagements on social media, in the marketplace, and in the streets, Hausa and Fulani people are openly talking about the jihad and its decidedly ethnic character. Hausa people are asking why all the emirs that emerged from the jihad, except for that of Bauchi, were Fulani. (Emirs in Borgu in Kwara and Niger states are not the product of the jihad and are not Fulani.)
These questions are especially important because the Fulani emirs who dislodged Hausa Muslim rulers have been doing exactly what the Hausa Muslim rulers were accused of by Fulani jihadists—keeping multiple wives and concubines, oppressing everyday folks called the talakawa, believing and partaking in fortunetelling, etc. Besides, in Islam, leadership isn’t hereditary, so Hausa people are asking why a supposedly Islamic jihad has entrenched Fulani ethnic monarchies to the exclusion of the native Hausa populations.
These debates aren’t new, of course. For example, in a June 30, 2000, article titled “The Fulani Factor in Nigerian Politics” published in the Weekly Trust, Sanusi Lamido Sanusi (who later became the emir of Kano on June 8, 2014, and was dethroned on March 9, 2020) caused a stir among not just other Nigerians but also among Hausa people when he said although the Fulani in northern Nigeria have lost their language and culture to the Hausa, they still cherish the irreproducible cultural and genetic distinctiveness that their ethnic identity imbues them with.
He isolated Nigerian leaders of putative Fulani line of descent—Ahmadu Bello, Shehu Shagari, Murtala Mohammed, and Muhammadu Buhari—whom he said even their “greatest enemies” respect because they supposedly embodied incomparable and uniquely Fulani values (even when they are/were not culturally Fulani).
He pointed out that the same could not be said of “other prominent non-Fulani contemporaries of these great men,” including military Head of State Ibrahim Babangida, who is Hausa, and Sani Abacha, who was Kanuri but born and raised in Kano. Sanusi then said the Fulani are “culturally programmed, generation after generation, to imbibe the best spirits of what makes good leadership, to a far greater extent than competing cultures.”
Garba Shehu, now a spokesperson for President Muhammadu Buhari, who is ethnically Hausa from Jigawa, was incensed. In a response titled “Sanusi’s Racist Rubbish” on July 7, 2000, Shehu wrote: “When I read Sanusi L. Sanusi’s article ‘The Fulani Factor in Nigerian Politics’…I came away with the feeling that the writer wanted to do one of two things: to either be ridiculous or to insult all of us who are not Fulani with some racist crap.”
Shehu invalidated Sanusi’s ethnic supremacist notion of a Fulani culture that makes Fulani people such good, just leaders by calling attention to the atrocities that were perpetuated against Hausa people by Fulani emirs—or what he called the “well-documented acts of brigandage” by the “Fulani oligarchy”— which instigated the emergence of the Northern Elements Progressives Union (NEPU).
“Where was he when the late Sa’adu Zungur, Aminu Kano, and company fought Fulani rulers who forced Hausa peasants to work the emirs’ farms, snatched wives, plundered what was kept in their trust, and appropriated/mismanaged farmlands and other resources belonging to their subjects?” Shehu wrote.
These sorts of emotive brickbats between everyday Hausa and Fulani people are escalating and becoming mainstream in the aftermath of the bloodstained conflict between Hausa farmers and Fulani herders. In fact, there are now calls, from both Hausa and Fulani interlocutors, for the reformation of the emirate system to strip emirship of its exclusivity to people of Fulani ancestry.
I think these are transitory, spur-of-the-moment tensile pushes and pulls that may soon abate, but it’s astonishing that it’s even happening.
Nigeria Must Prioritize Local Defense Contractors for National Security and Economic Growth
While Nigeria strives for self-reliance and national security, its defense procurement landscape remains heavily tilted in favour of foreign contractors.
Despite the growing capacity among Indigenous defense firms, Nigeria continues to favor foreign contractors.
This pattern threatens long-term national security, economic independence, and local innovation.
While Nigeria strives for self-reliance and national security, its defense procurement landscape remains heavily tilted in favour of foreign contractors.
Despite significant strides in capacity development, manufacturing, design, and operational capability, Nigerian-owned defense companies face systemic bias and limited access to government contracts.
This preference for foreign contractors and solutions incurs costs: economically, strategically, and technologically.
If Nigeria is committed to developing a robust, sovereign, and exportable defense industry, it must start by prioritizing local contractors.
FOREIGN FIRMS STILL GET THE FIRST CALL
Today, many Nigerian companies have developed capacity.
They offer reliable, innovative, and scalable solutions, including the production of sensitive equipment/systems, tactical vehicles, protective gear, and training facilities.
Yet, when the time comes for procurement, tenders and negotiations disproportionately favour foreign companies and suppliers.
These foreign firms are not only awarded high-value contracts but are often given easier access to key decision-makers.
Local companies, by contrast, face endless social and political hurdles: excessive scrutiny, limited engagement from end-users, and a lack of pilot opportunities to prove their systems in the field.
THE COST OF MARGINALISING OUR LOCAL INDUSTRY
The consequences of this procurement imbalance are far-reaching:
Capital Flight:
Nigeria loses billions annually by supporting foreign companies instead of helping Nigerian-owned businesses.
This practice enriches foreigners economically and denies local firms the opportunity to collaborate with international partners, which could enhance technology transfer, experience, and knowledge-sharing.
Job Loss:
Neglecting local defense companies negatively impacts the Nigerian economy and leads to job losses.
Manufacturing opportunities that could employ thousands of Nigerian youth are instead given to foreign factories, resulting in the creation and maintenance of valuable jobs overseas that could have been retained in Nigeria.
Technology Dependence:
Relying on foreign suppliers undermines Nigeria’s ability to develop, control, or modify critical defence platforms.
When Nigerian companies receive support, they are encouraged to strengthen partnerships with foreign technology partners, who can provide training and opportunities for technology transfer.
This strategy is essential for helping Nigerian companies develop the necessary technology more quickly.
Export Inhibition:
Without domestic validation, Nigerian-made defense products face challenges in entering foreign markets.
Nigeria aims to promote exports across all sectors.
For exportation to be successful, our products and solutions must meet international standards.
The export of Nigerian defense products will struggle unless these items are first given a chance to succeed in Nigeria.
We need to develop our local industry, validate our products, and then actively launch them into regional and continental markets.
BRAZIL AND INDIA: CASE STUDIES IN STRATEGIC PATRONAGE
Countries such as Brazil and India have demonstrated how intentional local patronage can foster globally competitive defense industries.
In Brazil, companies like Embraer and IMBEL grew under government-backed contracts and patronage.
The Brazilian Armed Forces committed to buying local, even when products were still under development and maturing.
Today, Brazil exports military aircraft and arms globally and has become a respected defense manufacturer.
Nigerian companies require more than just praise; they need patronage. Securing contracts, creating opportunities, and engaging in long-term planning are essential for our local defense firms to thrive.
India’s ‘Make in India’ initiative transformed its defense sector by mandating local sourcing.
Companies like Bharat Forge, TATA Advanced Systems, and Larsen & Toubro received long-term government backing, which allowed them to scale and improve.
India now produces high-quality drones, tanks, and artillery systems with export potential.
The lesson is clear: Nations that support local firms boost their economies, strengthen national defense, and enhance global influence.
A CALL FOR REORIENTATION IN NIGERIA
Nigerian companies require more than just praise; they need patronage. Securing contracts, creating opportunities, and engaging in long-term planning are essential for our local defense firms to thrive.
We call on the Nigerian Armed Forces, the Ministry of Defence, the Police, and all relevant government agencies to:
Adopt a Local-First Procurement Policy: Allocate a specific percentage of all defense procurement contracts to Nigerian companies.
Award Contracts for Capability and Growth:
Support local businesses by placing genuine orders instead of merely making promises or running pilot tests.
Various procurement models can be utilized to encourage the growth of local companies while minimizing risks for buyers.
We urge the Armed Forces and relevant purchasers to explore these models in the interest of our collective growth.
Foster Strategic Partnerships with Local Leadership:
The federal government, the armed forces, the police, and all other buyers should require foreign companies to partner with Nigerian companies to secure contracts.
Similar to the laws in places like Dubai, foreign companies should not be eligible to secure defense contracts in Nigeria directly.
They must partner with Nigerian defense companies to facilitate knowledge transfer and equity sharing with Nigerian firms.
Create End-User Incentives:
Encourage military and police leaders to implement solutions made in Nigeria and provide rewards for successful adoption.
Establish a Nigerian Defence Development Fund:
The government should create a Nigerian Defence Development Fund to provide long-term capital to local firms for research and development, infrastructure, and certifications.
THE TIME IS NOW
Nigeria’s future security needs to be developed within the country. This requires us to trust our own companies and local initiatives to provide the solutions we need.
Like Brazil and India, we must be willing to support homegrown solutions and products through their early challenges, understanding that true mastery comes with experienced local companies cannot thrive on encouragement alone—they require contracts, partnerships, and a long-term belief from their own country.
We possess the talent, ambition, and drive. What we need now is opportunity.
If Nigeria aims to become a true continental power in defense and technology, the change must begin with a simple decision:
Buy Nigerian, trust Nigerian, and defend Nigerian.
• This article was written by Bem Ibrahim Garba, a defense industry professional and advocate for indigenous industrial growth in Nigeria.
The Backlash Against Enioluwa’s Tears Shows Why Nigerian Men Are Dying in Silence , by Halima Layeni
The recent attack on 25 Year-old Nigerian influencer, Enioluwa Adeoluwa, for crying at his best friend, Priscilla’s wedding is more than an internet scandal. It is an indictment of our collective failure to raise emotionally healthy men.
A nation that once took pride in raising “strong men” is now reaping the consequences of generations of emotional suppression and it’s breaking our men.
The recent attack on 25 Year-old Nigerian influencer, Enioluwa Adeoluwa, for crying at his best friend, Priscilla’s wedding is more than an internet scandal. It is an indictment of our collective failure to raise emotionally healthy men.
Enioluwa, in a raw, beautiful, and deeply human moment, shed tears as he celebrated a life milestone with someone he loves platonically.
But instead of compassion, he was met with venom.
The internet erupted with disturbing comments from Nigerian men, the very people who should understand the weight of unspoken emotions.
“Men used to fight lions and tigers but little boys have to watch Enioluwa shed tears like a woman on her period.”
“Enioluwa is such a terrible role model for younger men.”
“When I have a male child, when he turns 10 years old I go first break five bottles for his head make he know say men mount.”
“I go wear crown of thorns make he know say life no be bed of roses.”“See simp behavior. You dey cry because woman marry? Na wa for you.”
A man who cannot cry is often a man who cannot connect, cannot heal, and cannot love fully.
“He must have been sleeping with her. Why else would a man cry that much?
”These cruel commentary is not just about Enioluwa. It is about every boy who has been told that his tears are unacceptable.
It is about every man who has been shamed for showing emotion. It is about a culture that would rather raise broken, hardened men than whole, healthy ones.
There is nothing wrong with a man crying. There is nothing wrong with a man expressing deep affection for a friend.
There is nothing wrong with a man being emotionally present in a moment of transition, joy, or loss.
What is wrong is the fact that our society punishes softness, ridicules empathy, and weaponizes masculinity.
Boys in Nigeria and many parts of the world are taught from an early age that masculinity means stoicism, dominance, and emotional detachment.
“Be a man” often means: suppress your feelings, deny your pain, and never under any circumstances show vulnerability.
Over time, this has created men who are emotionally constipated, unable to process grief, incapable of expressing love, and ill-equipped to build emotionally safe relationships.
This recent incident also brings to light another disturbing facet of toxic masculinity, the idea that men and women cannot be friends without sex.
Enioluwa was accused of being a “simp,” “emotional,” and “pathetic,” simply for valuing his platonic friendship.
Some even went as far as suggesting that he must have been sleeping with his best friend because, to them, no man could possibly show that kind of love unless there was sexual benefit involved.
This thinking is not only immature, it is harmful. It denies men the full range of human connection.
It teaches them that friendship is only valuable if it comes with physical reward. And it strips them of the beautiful, non-sexual intimacy that makes life meaningful.
The idea that a man cannot cry over the marriage of his female best friend without ridicule is a sign of deep emotional poverty.
We are grooming our sons to become emotionally unavailable men and it is showing up in our homes, our relationships, and our society.
Men who cannot express emotions also struggle to be present partners, affectionate fathers, and loyal friends.
They retreat from vulnerability, and in doing so, they retreat from the very thing that makes them human.
The emotional repression we’ve normalized is killing our men literally and figuratively. Suicide, substance abuse, domestic violence, absentee fatherhood all have roots in unresolved pain and emotional illiteracy.
A man who cannot cry is often a man who cannot connect, cannot heal, and cannot love fully.
There is nothing weak about a man who cries. There is nothing shameful about being soft and compassionate.
There is nothing unmanly about being vulnerable. In fact, it takes immense courage to feel deeply in a world that tells men to shut it down.
Healthy masculinity is not born from emotional numbness, it is nurtured through compassion, empathy, and self-awareness.We must raise men who are free to feel.
Men who understand that crying is not a sign of weakness, but a release of strength.
Boys who will grow into men who can be tender with their spouses, emotionally present for their children, supportive of their friends, and kind to themselves.
The backlash Enioluwa faced is painful, but it has started a conversation that we cannot afford to ignore.
If we truly care about our men, their mental health, their emotional well-being, their future we must rewire the way we raise them.
No more broken bottles. No more crowns of thorns.
No more silent suffering. Let us raise men who cry, who feel, who love, and who heal.
Let us raise whole men.
• Halima Layeni, Founder Men’s Mental Health Advocate / Life After Abuse Foundation, wrote this piece
Once a humble N50 snack in the 2000s, Gala has now evolved with a premium N500 offering — igniting a heated cost-of-living debate. N500 Gala.
Social media and public discourse reflect Nigerians’ deep attachment to Gala as a cultural icon tied to its former N50 price.
BusinessDay reports that since February, the snack has been at the center of widespread discussions after UAC Foods introduced a new variation at a retail price of N500.
“How can I buy a Gala of N50 for N500?” Tolani, a final-year student at the University of Lagos said. This same sentiment was shared by Ann, a fresh graduate from the University of Port Harcourt.
She said “It feels weird buying Gala for N500, even though it’s a bigger size.”
Many Nigerians argue they would never pay N500 for a product they still associate with its N50 legacy.
However, what many fail to recognize is that the new product is almost double the size compared to what is now called the “old Gala”.
While the former product was 65 grams, the N500 Gala was 120 grams.
News2 days ago
News2 days ago
News2 days ago
News2 days ago
News1 day ago
Crime1 day ago
Crime1 day ago