By Muhammad Bello, Dutse, Jigawa State

The lingering power tussle between His Highness Aminu Ado Bayero and His Highness Muhammadu Sanusi II over the revered throne of the Emir of Kano has continued to generate intense public debate and concern across Northern Nigeria and the country at large. For an institution that has historically commanded immense respect, influence, and cultural significance, the prolonged dispute has unfortunately diminished the prestige and moral authority associated with the Kano Emirate.

The Emirate of Kano is not just a traditional stool; it represents centuries of history, leadership, and cultural identity. As one of the most respected traditional institutions in Nigeria, the stability of the throne is crucial not only for Kano State but also for the broader traditional governance structure in the North.

In view of this reality, urgent and sincere efforts must be made to resolve the crisis in a manner that restores dignity, unity, and respect to the institution.

As part of the Kano First Agenda of His Excellency Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, there is a timely opportunity to take bold and statesmanlike steps toward resolving the impasse. One practical approach would be for the state government to constitute a high-level reconciliation committee made up of respected traditional rulers, eminent Islamic scholars, religious leaders, and elder statesmen from within Kano State and across the country.

Such a committee would carry the moral authority and neutrality required to engage all parties involved and recommend a sustainable solution.

In my humble opinion, the committee should consider the following options:

First, both contending Emirs should be encouraged, in the interest of peace and the preservation of the dignity of the Kano Emirate, to voluntarily step aside by tendering their resignations. While this may appear difficult, history has shown that sacrifices made for peace often preserve institutions for future generations.

Second, the Kano State Government should allow the kingmakers to conduct a fresh and transparent nomination process for a new Emir. Transparency and adherence to tradition will help restore public confidence in the institution.

Third, in order to ensure neutrality and avoid further controversy, both current claimants to the throne should not be part of the new selection process.

The objective of these recommendations is not to undermine any individual but to safeguard the long-term stability, unity, and honour of the Kano Emirate. Institutions of such historic importance must be protected from prolonged political and legal battles that could erode their legitimacy.

Ultimately, wisdom, patience, and a spirit of sacrifice are required from all stakeholders. The people of Kano and indeed Nigerians hope to see a peaceful resolution that restores the dignity of the throne and preserves the rich heritage of the Emirate for generations to come.

May Almighty Allah continue to guide our leaders toward decisions that promote peace, justice, and unity.

By Saminu Umar Ph.D | Senior Lecturer, Department of Information and Media Studies, Bayero University, Kano

Kano does not need to be invented. That is a truth so fundamental, so historically self-evident, that it should not need to be stated at all, and yet the circumstances of recent decades have made its restatement not merely appropriate but urgent. There is a tendency, in the discourse of Nigerian development, to treat every governance initiative as a beginning, as though the society being governed had no prior history of achievement, no accumulated wisdom, no tested traditions of institutional excellence on which new efforts might be built. This tendency is not merely intellectually lazy, but it is, in the specific context of Kano, a form of historical injustice, a failure to reckon honestly with the civilizational inheritance that this state carries and that its people have never entirely abandoned, even through the long and painful decades in which their institutions were hollowed out, their values eroded, and their confidence systematically undermined by the combined weight of misgovernance, corruption, and the slow cultural dislocation that follows when a society loses trust in the institutions that are supposed to embody its highest aspirations.
Kano was, long before Nigeria existed as a political entity, one of the most sophisticated and enduring centers of civilization in West Africa. Its greatness was not the greatness of conquest or of externally imposed order. It was the greatness of organic development, of a society that built, over centuries, a coherent and self-sustaining civilization on foundations that were simultaneously material and moral. The trans-Saharan trade networks that made Kano a commercial hub of continental significance were sustained not merely by geography or by the availability of goods, but by a culture of commercial integrity, of trust between trading partners, of contractual reliability, and of the kind of reputational accountability that makes markets function across distances and between strangers. The Islamic scholarship that gave Kano its intellectual authority was not merely a religious tradition. It was a governance philosophy, one that placed knowledge, justice, accountability, and the subordination of personal interest to public duty at the center of what it meant to hold power. The traditional political institutions that maintained Kano’s social order were not instruments of oppression but, at their best, mechanisms of consultation, legitimacy, and the managed resolution of social conflict.
These were not accidental achievements. They were the products of deliberate cultivation, of generations of Kano’s people choosing, consciously and consistently, to organize their collective life around values that made both individual flourishing and communal solidarity possible. That is what a civilization is: not a collection of buildings or a record of territorial expansion, but a living tradition of values, practices, and institutions that enables a human community to achieve, across time, more than any individual generation could accomplish alone. Kano built such a civilization. And the question that every serious governor of Kano must eventually confront, whether they frame it in these terms or not, is whether they are adding to that civilization or subtracting from it.
It is against this civilizational backdrop that the Kano First Initiative under Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf must be understood, not as a new idea imported into Kano from outside, not as a political slogan invented to win elections and abandoned when the votes are counted, but as a deliberate act of historical retrieval, an attempt to reach back through the debris of recent decades and recover the foundations on which Kano’s genuine greatness was built. The initiative’s framework document states this explicitly and without embarrassment: Kano’s most persistent challenges are not solely infrastructural or economic in nature. They are fundamentally behavioral, normative, and narrative failures, accumulated over time and reinforced by weak value transmission, fragmented authority, and uncoordinated messaging. This is a diagnosis of remarkable historical honesty, and it is one that only a governor with a genuine understanding of what Kano has been and what it has lost could have authorized.
Governor Yusuf’s historical vision is not nostalgic in the sentimental sense of the word. He is not proposing a return to a romanticized past that never existed in the uncomplicated form that nostalgia requires. He is proposing something simultaneously more modest and more ambitious: the recovery of specific values, specific institutional principles, and specific civic traditions that demonstrably worked, that demonstrably sustained Kano’s coherence and productivity over centuries, and that demonstrably began to break down when they were displaced by the governing logic of extraction, patronage, and the systematic subordination of public interest to private accumulation. Islamic ethical governance, communal responsibility, the dignity of productive labor, respect for legitimate authority, the centrality of knowledge in public life, these are not abstract ideals. They are the operational principles of a civilization that actually functioned, and their recovery is not a romantic aspiration but a practical governance imperative.
The intellectual architecture through which this recovery is being pursued bears the clear fingerprints of the Honourable Commissioner for Information and Internal Affairs, Comrade Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya, whose contribution to the Kano First Initiative has been, in every meaningful sense, the contribution of a man who understands both what Kano is and what it needs. The framework he has championed integrates three traditions that, taken together, give the initiative both its cultural legitimacy and its analytical credibility: the Islamic ethical governance tradition that historically underpinned Kano’s stability and justice, Kano’s own sociocultural heritage of communal solidarity and institutional accountability, and the modern behavioral change communication science that provides the methodological tools for translating values into measurable social outcomes. This integration is not accidental. It reflects a deep conviction, shared by both the governor and his commissioner, that genuine renewal cannot be achieved by importing foreign solutions but only by excavating and rebuilding on Kano’s own foundations.
The scale of what has been lost must be honestly acknowledged if the scale of what is being attempted is to be properly appreciated. Kano today carries wounds that decades of misgovernance have inflicted on its social fabric with a thoroughness that cannot be undone quickly or easily. Youth disaffection has reached levels that express themselves in drug abuse, street violence, and the nihilistic political thuggery that represents, at its core, the rage of young people who were promised a future and received instead a void. Institutional trust, once the bedrock of Kano’s civic life, has been so systematically eroded that the default posture of many citizens toward their government is not engagement but cynicism, not participation but withdrawal. The digital media ecosystem, which should be a tool of civic enlightenment, has in too many instances become a vehicle for the amplification of the very misinformation, polarization, and moral dislocation that the Kano First Initiative is designed to address. These are not small problems, and they will not yield to small solutions.
What gives the Kano First Initiative its historical seriousness is precisely that it does not pretend otherwise. The four-phase implementation framework, stretching from 2026 through 2030, is built on the recognition that the restoration of a civilization’s normative foundations is a generational project, not a political campaign. Phase One builds the empirical foundation, the baseline surveys, perception mapping, and narrative architecture that genuine social intervention requires. Phase Two deploys coordinated, multi-channel behavioral activation across youth networks, religious institutions, traditional authorities, and community organizations. Phase Three scales what works and deepens digital engagement. Phase Four embeds the initiative permanently into Kano’s governance architecture through a dedicated directorate and the annual Kano Values Index. This is not the timeline of an administration managing its image. It is the timeline of a government that has looked honestly at the depth of the challenge and committed itself to the depth of response that the challenge demands.
There is an emotional dimension to this story that deserves to be named directly, because it is one that the purely analytical framing of policy discourse tends to obscure. Kano’s people love their state with an intensity and a pride that is, even in a country of fierce regional loyalties, remarkable. They carry within them the memory of a greatness that their grandparents knew and that they themselves have glimpsed, in fragments and in moments, even through the long decades of disappointment. When Governor Yusuf speaks of restoring Kano’s glory, he is not merely making a political argument. He is speaking to something that lives in the hearts of ordinary Kano citizens, something that has survived misgovernance, political manipulation, and cultural erosion with a resilience that is itself a testament to the depth of Kano’s civilizational roots. That emotional resonance is not a weakness in the Kano First philosophy. It is one of its greatest strategic assets, because renewal that connects with people’s deepest sense of identity and pride generates the kind of civic energy that no top-down programme can manufacture.
The work of restoring that glory belongs, ultimately, not to government alone but to every institution, every community leader, every journalist, every religious scholar, every teacher, every trader, and every young person in Kano who chooses, in their daily conduct, to live by the values that made this civilization great. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has provided the vision, the institutional framework, and the personal example of a leader who is willing to pay the political costs that genuine commitment to the public good always exacts. Comrade Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya has provided the intellectual architecture and the communication infrastructure through which that vision can be translated into civic reality. The rest, as it must always be when a society is serious about its own renewal, belongs to the people.
Kano’s glory was never lost. It was covered over, layer by layer, by the accumulated debris of decades of bad governance, institutional betrayal, and the slow erosion of the values that once made it shine. The Kano First Initiative is not building something new on empty ground. It is clearing the ground of debris so that what was always there can breathe again, grow again, and reclaim the space in Nigeria’s national life and in West Africa’s historical memory that Kano has always, by right of civilization, deserved to occupy. That is the historical vision behind Kano First. And it is a vision worth every effort, every sacrifice, and every ounce of collective will that Kano’s people can bring to its realization.

Saminu Umar Ph.D is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Information and Media Studies, Bayero University, Kano. surijyarzaki@gmail.com

By Sufyan Lawal Kabo | Political Commentator and Civic Analyst
sefjamil3@gmail.com

The most valuable counsel a leader can receive is rarely the most comfortable. It does not arrive wrapped in flattery or delivered through the careful diplomacy of those whose proximity to power has made honesty a professional risk. It comes, instead, from those who have no personal stake in the leader’s approval, whose only investment is in the success of the larger cause, and who understand, from the clear-eyed distance of genuine civic concern, what the leader’s inner circle is too close, too cautious, or too compromised to say plainly. It is in that spirit, with deep and sincere respect for the leadership of Kano State and genuine appreciation for the efforts of His Excellency Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, the Jagoran Kano First, that these reflections are offered. Not as an open letter, but as a general meditation on the political moment Kano finds itself in, so that everyone with a stake in the state’s future, governors and governed, appointees and ordinary citizens alike, can benefit from an honest reckoning with where we are and where we are headed.
The political landscape of Kano State has shifted dramatically in recent months. Governor Yusuf’s alignment with the All Progressives Congress has reconfigured the state’s political geometry in ways that are still working themselves out, generating new alliances, reopening old wounds, and producing the kind of charged political atmosphere in which the temptations of reactive communication are at their most dangerous and the need for strategic wisdom is at its most acute. A significant number of politicians have moved with the governor, drawn by conviction, by calculation, or by the simple pragmatism that has always characterized Kano’s political culture. But the alignment has also generated intense opposition, particularly from within the Kwankwasiyya movement, whose supporters feel a sense of betrayal that is as emotionally powerful as it is politically consequential. As the 2027 elections approach, that opposition will not diminish. Every credible political analyst agrees that the coming contest between the Abba camp and the Kwankwasiyya will be among the most competitive and consequential Kano has seen in recent memory, quite possibly more intense than the earlier rivalry between the Kwankwasiyya and Gandujiyya camps.
The evidence of this intensifying contest is already visible in the digital public square. Social media comment sections beneath posts related to the governor’s activities have become battlegrounds of competing narratives, some constructive, many not. Critics deploy phrases like Falle Daya Ce, meaning one tenure only, with the rhythmic insistence of a political chant. The Kano First Agenda, championed with such intellectual seriousness by the Commissioner for Information and Internal Affairs, Comrade Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya, widely and respectfully known as the Limamin Kano First, has been met with the sarcastic counter-phrase Kwano First, a deliberate attempt to trivialize a governing philosophy whose substance deserves engagement rather than mockery. These are the realities of a competitive democratic environment, and they demand a response. The question, and it is the most important political question facing the administration right now, is what kind of response.
The answer that too many supporters, aides, and communication officers around the governor have been providing is, to put it plainly, the wrong one. There is a pattern of engagement with critics and opposition voices that relies on emotional intensity where intellectual authority is required, on personal attacks where factual correction would be far more effective, and on the language of political combat where the language of governance achievement would be infinitely more persuasive. The public exchange between Dr Yusuf Kofar Mata, a former Commissioner for Higher Education and Science and Technology who departed after the political realignment, and Comrade Saidu Dakata of the Kano State Signage and Advertisement Agency, is instructive in this regard. Dakata’s approach, grounded in facts and delivered with composure, represents the model that every government communicator and supporter should study and emulate. Dr Kofar Mata’s departure and subsequent criticism represent a pattern of political transition that is entirely normal in democratic politics, and the appropriate response to it is not personal hostility but the patient, evidence-based demonstration that the administration’s record speaks for itself.
This brings me to a point that I consider the most urgent communication lesson facing the Yusuf administration as it navigates the approach to 2027. The individuals who occupy communication roles around government do not speak only for themselves. They speak, whether they appreciate this or not, for the government they represent and for the governor whose vision they are entrusted to project. When their language is undignified, when their responses are emotional rather than evidential, when they mistake noise for effectiveness and aggression for strength, they do not merely embarrass themselves. They inflict reputational damage on the administration that no subsequent clarification can fully repair. A government spokesperson, a ministry official, a strategic appointee, these are not party supporters free to conduct themselves as partisans in a street argument. They are, in every public utterance, the voice of governance itself, and the standard to which that voice must be held is the standard of statesmanship, not political thuggery.
There is a deeper strategic error in the adversarial approach to opposition that I want to name directly, because it is one that has cost many Nigerian administrations dearly in the critical period before a contested election. Fighting the opposition, particularly a well-organized and emotionally motivated opposition like the Kwankwasiyya, does not weaken it. It energizes it. Every confrontation becomes a recruitment tool. Every insult directed at a critic generates sympathy among the undecided. Every demonstration of governmental arrogance reminds citizens who are watching carefully that power, when it forgets its purpose, becomes indistinguishable from the very thing it replaced. The comment sections and social media threads that carry intense opposition to the governor are not primarily problems to be suppressed. They are political intelligence to be read, understood, and responded to with the kind of persuasive, patient, dignity-preserving engagement that converts skeptics into supporters rather than driving them deeper into the opposing camp.
History offers an instructive parallel that transcends cultural boundaries. When Liu Bang, the founder of the Han Dynasty, defeated the rival warlords who had contested the collapse of the Qin dynasty, he faced a choice that every leader in a contested political environment eventually faces: humiliate the defeated or absorb them. He chose absorption. He extended dignity and opportunity to former rivals, integrated their networks and constituencies into his growing coalition, and in doing so built a political foundation that sustained one of the most consequential dynasties in Chinese history. The lesson, ancient as it is, has lost none of its relevance. Strong leaders do not multiply enemies. They convert rivals into partners, or at the very minimum, they manage the relationship with former allies and current critics in ways that leave open the possibility of future reconciliation. The Quranic wisdom is equally direct and equally applicable: good and evil are not equal, and evil repelled with what is better produces a transformation that no amount of force or confrontation can achieve.
There is also a matter of democratic principle that deserves honest acknowledgement. From the moment a person is sworn in as governor, he ceases to be merely the leader of a political movement or the champion of a particular constituency. He becomes the governor of an entire state, responsible to every citizen within its boundaries regardless of how they voted, what party they support, or what they said about him during the campaign. The Kano First philosophy itself, in its most intellectually serious articulation, embodies this understanding. It insists that the interests of Kano must always take precedence over the interests of any party, any faction, or any individual. That principle cannot be selectively applied. It cannot mean Kano First when it is politically convenient and NNPP or APC first when political loyalties are under pressure. Its credibility depends entirely on its consistency, and its consistency depends on the willingness of the governor and everyone around him to hold themselves to the standard it sets, even when, especially when, it is politically costly to do so.
I want to address, with particular directness, the tendency among some government-aligned voices to disparage citizens and political figures who do not hold appointments, as though proximity to power were a measure of worth, wisdom, or loyalty. This is a dangerous and ultimately self-defeating attitude. Many of the individuals who supported this political movement through its most difficult years, who spent their own resources, sacrificed professional opportunities, and in some cases faced genuine personal risk because of their commitment to a cause, occupy no position today. The reasons for that are varied and are not, in most cases, a reflection of their competence or their loyalty. When those who have recently arrived at the table of power look down upon those who helped set it, they reveal not strength but insecurity, not confidence but the brittle arrogance of those who have confused the accident of appointment with the substance of achievement.
Kano politics has always been won through coalitions, through the patient assembly of diverse constituencies, interest groups, and political networks into a broad enough tent to command a democratic majority. The governor’s own political journey is a testament to this truth. His rise was built on the foundations of a movement that was itself a coalition, and the loyalty and hope of the people who believed in that movement were the currency with which his political capital was purchased. As 2027 approaches, the question is not whether opposition will intensify. It will. The question is whether the administration will respond to that intensification with the wisdom, dignity, and strategic intelligence that the moment demands, expanding its coalition where it can, managing its critics with composure, and allowing the genuine achievements of the Kano First Agenda to make the most powerful argument that any government can make: the argument of visible, verifiable, citizen-felt results.
Our elders captured this wisdom with characteristic economy: Mai hikima gada yake ginawa ba bango ba. A wise person builds bridges, not walls. The administration of Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has the vision, the intellectual resources, the policy framework, and the genuine achievements necessary to make a compelling case to the people of Kano. What it must also cultivate, with urgency and deliberate discipline, is the political maturity to pursue that case through persuasion rather than confrontation, through the steady demonstration of competence and integrity rather than the noisy prosecution of political rivalries. History remembers those who unified more fondly than those who divided. Kano deserves a government determined to be remembered well.

Sufyan Lawal Kabo is a political commentator and civic analyst based in Kano State.
Contact: sefjamil3@gmail.com