By Abdulganiyu Rufai Yakub

When city walls keep collapsing while houses remain bare, and there seems to be no ready replacement in sight, a deep emptiness echoes across the land. This thought has haunted me since the passing of Alhaji Aminu Dantata, the last of a dying breed whose mere mention commanded reverence and whose doors remained open to all peasants, royals, politicians, and technocrats alike.

I remember vividly an interview granted by the late Maitama Sule, Dan Masanin Kano, in which he spoke about the death of Malam Aminu Kano. That death, he said, left a vacuum in the state a vacuum for the occupant of what he described as “the Good Office.”

After Malam Aminu’s death, Maitama Sule was approached to come back from his diplomatic duties to take up that mantle. His response was a revelation of true self-awareness. He told them he was not in good standing to occupy the Good Office of Kano. He said he could not replace Malam Aminu Kano, citing his weakness for pleasure and his inability to fully accommodate the plight of the ordinary people of Kano.

Yet, as time passed, Kano saw him rise to fill that very role he humbly rejected. He became the rallying point for the oppressed and the convenor of the Manyan Kano men like Alhaji Tijjani Hashim, the late Galadima of Kano; Emir Ado Bayero; Alhaji Aminu Alhassan Dantata; the late Magaji Dan Batta; and many others. His words became almost final in Kano. When Maitama Sule spoke, even the most powerful listened.

Years later, in a quiet conversation with an elderly statesman, I was told of how Maitama Sule sent his disciples to meet the late Alhaji Bashir Tofa, urging him to take up the mantle of the Good Office. In his message, he asked Tofa to drop his exclusive Western lifestyle and return to embrace the people as their shield, leader, and conscience.

Maitama Sule said Bashir Tofa was the man who understood the intricacies of Nigerian politics and its shifting dynamics, a businessman with the economic intellect to steer the Good Office with dignity. And it came to be. Alhaji Bashir Tofa became the leaning shoulder of the oppressed, the well of wisdom in political decisions, and the rallying point for direction in Kano. He often convened the remaining Manyan Kano: Barr. Auwalu Yadudu SAN, Prof. Sule Bello, Barr. A.B. Mahmood SAN, Dr. Shamsuddeen Abubakar, and others.

But even he faced obstructions from Ganduje, the then Governor of the state; his boss, Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso; and other powerful actors in the shadows of Kano’s politics. Today, almost all of them are gone. Only Alhaji Aminu Dantata remained as the final say, and now he too is no more.

So I ask, as one haunted by history and fearful of a rudderless future:

Who holds the Good Office of Kano today? Who remains as the wall of Kano?

Is it Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso? I doubt it. Deeply political, he cannot handle the Good Office in its purity. His rivals and antagonists will never voluntarily submit to his authority in matters beyond politics. Is it Sanusi Lamido Sanusi? Perhaps. Had he not chosen to return as Emir of Kano and maintained his Khalifaship, perhaps he would have earned that final moral voice.

Ganduje? His charisma has been eroded by scandalous campaigns during his time in power, and his moral capital lies deeply fractured.

Today, the walls of Kano lie bare. The houses remain exposed to the storms of selfish politics, unchecked economic sabotage, and moral bankruptcy. There is no single person who can call anybody in or outside power – in Kano or in Abuja – and they will come without hesitation. There is no one who looks at the interest of Kano and its people without political or personal bias.

So, who will be the man with the Good Office? Who will become the walls of Kano?

Perhaps, just perhaps, it is not about a man anymore. Perhaps it is time for a generation to rise and become the moral wall not one person, but a collective shield of conscience, compassion, wisdom, and service. For if no one steps up, the city walls will keep collapsing, and one day, even the houses will no longer stand.