By Umar Danliti

Since taking over as the Commissioner for Information in Kano State, Ibrahim Waiya has been on a mission to redefine the way the government interacts with the public. With a background as an activist, Waiya brings a unique perspective to the role.

Replacing Baba Halilu Dantiye, Waiya has wasted no time in implementing his vision for a more open and responsive government. His approach has been met with enthusiasm from both government officials and the general public.

One of Waiya’s key strategies has been to foster good working relationships with the media and other stakeholders. He believes that building trust and credibility is essential for effective governance.

Under Waiya’s leadership, the Ministry of Information has become more proactive in engaging with the public. The commissioner has made himself available to the press, providing timely and accurate information on government policies and initiatives.

Waiya’s experience as an activist has given him a deep understanding of the importance of public relations. He has leveraged this expertise to generate positive publicity for the state, highlighting its achievements and potential.

The results of Waiya’s efforts are already becoming apparent. The government’s image has begun to shift, with many Nigerians now viewing Kano State as a hub of progress and innovation.

Waiya’s approach is not limited to just spin doctoring; he is committed to ensuring that government policies and programs are people-centered. He believes that effective communication is key to building trust and support for government initiatives.

By engaging directly with the public, Waiya has been able to gauge their concerns and feedback. This information is being used to inform policy decisions, making government more responsive to the needs of the people.

One of the key challenges facing Waiya is managing the government’s online presence. He has taken steps to revamp the ministry’s social media platforms, ensuring that they are used effectively to engage with the public.

Waiya’s team has also been working to improve the government’s crisis communication strategy. By being proactive and transparent, they aim to minimize the impact of any potential crises on the government’s reputation.

The commissioner has also been working closely with other government agencies to ensure that their messages are consistent and effective. This coordination has helped to project a unified image of the government.

Under Waiya’s leadership, the Ministry of Information has become a hub of creativity and innovation. The commissioner encourages his team to think outside the box and come up with new ideas for engaging with the public.

Waiya’s vision for the ministry extends beyond just government publicity. He believes that the ministry should also play a role in promoting Kano State’s rich cultural heritage and tourism potential.

To achieve this, Waiya has been working with local artists, musicians, and other creatives to showcase the state’s unique identity. This initiative has helped to promote a sense of pride and ownership among the people.

The dividends of Waiya’s approach are already being felt. The government’s approval ratings have improved, and there is a growing sense of optimism about the state’s future.

Waiya’s commitment to transparency and accountability has also helped to build trust between the government and the people. Citizens are now more confident in the government’s ability to deliver on its promises.

As a seasoned activist, Waiya is well aware of the power of social media. He has used this knowledge to engage with the public and promote government initiatives.

The commissioner’s team has also been working to improve the government’s offline engagement with the public. Town hall meetings and other public forums have been organized to provide citizens with a platform to air their views.

Waiya’s leadership style is characterized by his willingness to listen and adapt. He is open to feedback and willing to make changes when necessary.

As Kano State looks to the future, it is clear that Ibrahim Waiya’s appointment as Commissioner for Information has been a game-changer. His unique approach and commitment to public relations have set a new standard for government communication in the state. With Waiya at the helm, the prospects for greater Kano look brighter than ever.

Umar Liti, is a concern Kano citizen, and can be reached at umarliti@yahoo.com

By Jamilu Abdussalam Hajaj

In the early hours of July 3, 2025, the earth beneath Kano trembled, not in physical quake, but in the silent collapse of a spiritual pillar, financial giant, and humanitarian institution. Alhaji Aminu Alhassan Dantata, the last standing titan among the generation of Northern Nigeria’s most influential and benevolent patriarchs, has returned to his Lord in Abu Dhabi, UAE. With his passing, not only has a golden era drawn its final curtain, but the North, and indeed all of Nigeria has lost a living symbol of selfless service, generational excellence, and cultural dignity.

Born in 1931, Alhaji Aminu Dantata came from a line of legendary merchants and empire builders. His father, Alhassan Dantata, was reputed to be the wealthiest man in West Africa in the early 20th century a man who transformed groundnut pyramids into symbols of Northern prosperity and global commerce who expanded his wealth to becoming a cornerstone of business development in the colonial and post-colonial eras.

It was upon these shoulders that Aminu Dantata stood but he did not merely inherit; he multiplied his wealth into construction, oil and gas, finance, agriculture, real estate, and more leaving footprints across Africa and beyond. His investments were not just in assets, but in people. He controlled a large share in multiple industrial and commercial ventures such Express Petroleum & Gas Company Ltd, Sterling Bank, Jaiz Bank, etc, Aminu Dantata expanded the family’s influence across Nigerian and in Arab countries.

A father to over 26 children and a grandfather to more than 100, Dantata ensured his family remained a tight-knit and disciplined symbol of dignity, Islamic values, and corporate excellence. Many of his children today lead companies, foundations, and religious causes that continue the family’s tradition of private enterprise and public good.

Alhaji Aminu Dantata’s true wealth, however, lay not in his empire, but in his humility and humanity. His philanthropic legacy was built on a scale matched only by its silence. He gave, not for applause, but because he saw it as a duty before Allah.

Throughout his lifetime, Alhaji Aminu Dantata quietly donated billions of naira to critical causes across Nigeria; supporting education, healthcare, religious institutions, disaster relief, and community development, cementing his legacy as one of the nation’s most selfless and impactful philanthropists.

Alhaji Aminu Dantata was a man of international respect. Though he briefly participated in politics during National Party of Nigeria (NPN), he was entrusted with diplomatic goodwill missions and silent mediations particularly between Nigeria and Saudi Arabia.

His role in strengthening bilateral trust was so deeply respected that upon his death in Abu Dhabi, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia granted a rare and historic permission for his burial in Baqiyya Cemetery, Madinah the resting place of many of the Prophet’s companions. The Nigerian government sent a high-level delegation, including ministers and scholars, to coordinate with Saudi authorities. It was not just a funeral; it was a diplomatic gesture honoring a man who had quietly served as a bridge between two great Muslim nations.

The passing of Alhaji Aminu Dantata is not merely the death of one man; it is the symbolic close of a chapter in Kano’s and Nigeria’s history. He stood among a sacred circle of elder statesmen who once served as the spiritual, financial, and political conscience of the North. Among them was Galadiman Kano, Alhaji Tijjani Hashim, revered for his deep wisdom and behind-the-scenes counsel; Danmasanin Kano, Alhaji Maitama Sule, a master orator and moral compass of the nation; the late Emir of Kano, Alhaji Ado Bayero, whose long reign brought balance and dignity to the Kano Emirate; and Khalifa Sheikh Isyaka Rabiu, whose spiritual and business empire transformed the lives of thousands. Together, they formed a quiet but powerful force that shaped the destiny of Kano and provided a steady hand during moments of uncertainty.

They were there when Kano needed direction, when youth needed guidance, when governments needed conscience. They built companies that created jobs, donated billions to causes that mattered, advised presidents and governors, and pulled thousands out of poverty and disgrace.

Now, they are all gone.

Who Will Now Speak for Kano?

Kano today finds itself at a moral and cultural crossroads. With the departure of these great souls, who will rise not just as businessmen or politicians, but as custodians of our heritage? Who will give in billions without demanding attention? Who will advise leaders without seeking power and control? Who will speak for the voiceless without chasing clout?

The answer lies not in mourning alone, but in modeling. Let a new generation study these lives, walk their path, and serve with sincerity. For their greatness was not in name, but in nurturing, nobility, and nearness to Allah.

Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaihi Raji’un.
May Allah forgive their shortcomings, accept their good deeds, and raise a new generation worthy of their legacy.

By Habib Sani Galadima

In the 1960s, South Korea was poor, dependent on American aid, and still struggling with the scars of war. Then President Park Chung-hee changed the script. His government blocked most consumer imports and poured resources into industries that could export. Credit, subsidies, policy direction; all of it was aimed outward. By 1969, exports were growing at 35.3 percent each year. In the 1970s, they kept climbing at over 25 percent annually. Over two decades, South Korea’s economy grew by nearly 10 percent a year.

The turning point was clear. Instead of surviving on what came in, they built power by focusing on what went out. This same logic applies to language, especially to the future of Hausa.

For decades, translation into Hausa served as a cultural intake valve; bringing foreign ideas, religious teachings, policy language, and literary forms within reach of local audiences. This inward-facing strategy was institutionalized in 1933, when Rupert East and the Translation Bureau (later known as Gaskiya Corporation) launched a historic literature contest. The goal was practical: Western education had arrived in Northern Nigeria, schools were filling up, but there were no Hausa books to read.

That contest birthed a canon. It gave us Ruwan Bagaja by Abubakar Imam, Gandoki by Muhammadu Bello Kagara, Shaihu Umar by Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, Idon Matambayi by Muhammadu Gwarzo, and Jiki Magayi by John Tafida Umaru and Rupert East. These were not just books; they were tools for reading, models for fiction, and blueprints for cultural imagination.

Yet today, the imbalance is unmistakable. Nearly all cultural translation still flows inward, despite the fact that Hausa literature now spans generations, genres, and thousands of titles. We are no longer short on reading material. What we lack is export.

As a result, most outsiders now know Hausa culture through social media behavior, not through its stories. The literary gaze of the mid-to-late 20th century has faded. In its place is a shallow feed, not a studied archive. Our cultural signals are reduced to online patterns. Our worldview is flattened by algorithms.

The hunger for culturally grounded stories is not the problem. The gap lies in output direction. Hausa literature has grown in abundance from contemporary novels (known as Adabin Kasuwar Kano), oral chronicles, audio dramas, and digital fiction communities. But most of this intellectual output remains sealed within Hausa, or reduced to summaries when it crosses into English. This isn’t just a publishing shortfall, it is a missed tool of cultural diplomacy.

A language spoken by tens of millions across West Africa, rich in rhythm and moral nuance, should be shaping global discourse through its stories. The same way Korea exported Samsung and cinema to build national identity, Hausa can export ‘Magana Jari Ce’or ‘So Aljannar Duniya, not just as books, but as blueprints of thought, ethical scaffolding, and communal logic.

But cultural export needs architecture. It means funding skilled translation from Hausa into global languages. It means backing writers who carry both the language and the ambition. It means understanding that prestige is not inherited through English, but built by those willing to make Hausa visible to the world. Until then, we keep importing ideas we already understand in a language that is not our own.

A people who do not share their worldview will one day find it narrated by outsiders. That is the quiet danger we face. Hausa is not vanishing, but it is being compressed. Our literature, our metaphors, our moral reasoning; all remain alive among us, but they rarely cross borders in our own voice. Others interpret us through news cycles and trending hashtags, not through the stories we wrote ourselves.