By Aisha Muhammad Rabiu

In many parts of Northern Nigeria, antenatal care is a vital step in ensuring the health of both mother and the unborn child. Yet, an increasing number of women are neglecting this crucial stage of pregnancy, putting themselves and their babies at serious risk, hence the high infant, mother mortality rate.

Health experts have been warning that antenatal visits help detect pregnancy complications at its early stage, provide essential supplements for healthy mother/child development, and educate mothers on safe delivery practices. But for some women, they find antenatal care as a burden either due to poverty or lack of awareness based on cultural practices and beliefs. As such antenatal remains a neglected priority.

In Kadawa, Fatima Sani, a 28-year-old expectant mother, admits she has not attended a single session of antenatal since the start of her pregnancy. she said “It’s not that I don’t want to go, but the clinic is far from my house, and my husband says we should save the transport money for delivery day. I just pray Allah protects me and my baby.”

From Dan Bare, Shago Tara precisely, Khairat a mother of 4 shares her reasons for not attending antenatal session even though she is fully aware that the session is very important to pregnant women. She said “I feel healthy, so I don’t see the need to go for antenatal. My mother gave birth to all her children at home without any clinic visits, and they all survived.”

In Rijiyar Zaki, Hadiza Mukhtar recalls her previous pregnancy, where she skipped antenatal visits entirely. “The nurses were rude to me when I first went. I decided I would not return. This pregnancy, I haven’t gone at all,” she confesses.

For Usaina Muhammad of Kurna, the problem is financial. “I can’t afford the registration fee, and I also have other children to feed. I know antenatal is important, but survival comes first.”

Meanwhile, Maryam Lawan of Layi Kaji reveals that misinformation has influenced her decision. “Someone told me that the iron tablets they give at the clinic make the babies grow too big, making delivery harder. So, I decided to avoid it altogether.”

Medical professionals emphasize that skipping antenatal care increases the risk of complications such as anemia, high blood pressure, infections, and even maternal or infant death. Dr. Ibrahim Musa, a gynecologist in Kano, warns: “We see many emergencies that could have been avoided if the mother had attended antenatal. Most of these cases arrive late, making it harder for the doctors to save lives.”

Experts and community leaders agree that raising awareness is key in addressing the matter. Antenatal care should be made more affordable, accessible, and culturally acceptable for all women. Religious leaders, health workers, and family members all have a role to play in encouraging expectant mothers to attend regular check-ups.

Neglecting antenatal care is not just a personal choice; it’s a public health concern that affects families, communities, and the future of the nation. Ensuring that every mother has the knowledge, resources, and support to seek antenatal care is a step toward a healthier society.

Aisha Muhammad Rabiu writes from Bayero University Kano (BUK) and she can be reached at Email: aishatama2020@gmail.com

Phone no.08084273341

For decades, Rano Garin Autan Bawo has proudly stood as a symbol of peace and harmony in Kano State. It is a place where neighbors look out for one another, where disputes are settled through dialogue, and where diversity is met with respect—not resentment. In Rano, peace is not just a slogan—it is a way of life passed down through generations.

The tragic incident that recently occurred at the Divisional Police Station in Rano Local Government has deeply shaken our community. Known for generations as one of the most peaceful and united areas in Nigeria, Rano now faces the painful reality of an attack that led to the death of a Divisional Police Officer and the destruction of police property. This senseless act of violence goes against everything our community stands for and must not be seen as a reflection of who we are.

Rano has long been recognized for its peaceful spirit, tolerance, and respect for all. People from different backgrounds, religions, and cultures have lived side by side here in harmony. This didn’t happen by chance—it is the result of years of effort by our leaders, religious figures, and ordinary citizens who believe that our strength lies in our unity and diversity.

Our respect for law and order is deep-rooted. We understand the crucial role that security personnel play in keeping our community safe. The people of Rano have always appreciated the risks and sacrifices made by the police, military, and other agencies to protect lives and property.

Respect for the law here is not just about obeying rules—it’s about a shared belief in justice, fairness, and solving problems peacefully and legally. This belief has helped build a respectful and cooperative relationship between the police and the people.

What happened at the police station is completely out of character for our community. The individuals who carried out this attack do not represent us. Their actions go against the values that have shaped Rano. We strongly condemn what they did and make it clear that their behavior does not reflect who we are.

The loss of the Divisional Police Officer is not just a blow to the Nigeria Police Force or the Kano State Police Command—it is a loss for all of us. He wasn’t just doing his job; he was part of our extended family. His death is an attack on the peace and security that we all hold dear.

We send our deepest condolences to his family. No words can ease the pain of losing a loved one in such a brutal way. Our thoughts are also with his colleagues in the police force, who have lost a brother and a friend.

We also stand with the Kano State Police Command and the Nigeria Police Force as they face this heartbreaking loss. We understand how much this affects their morale, especially at a time when their work is more important than ever.

Destroying police buildings and equipment is not just an attack on law enforcement—it’s an attack on the very system that helps keep us safe. These facilities belong to the people and serve the entire community. Damaging them harms everyone, especially the most vulnerable among us.

We urge the government and relevant authorities to investigate this incident fully and fairly. Those responsible must be held accountable. Justice must be swift and uncompromised. Our community deserves to see the law upheld and the wrongdoers brought to book.

To our young people—the future of Rano—we ask for calm and reflection. We know that you may be frustrated or angry about many issues. But violence is never the answer. Taking the law into your own hands only brings more pain and setbacks for everyone.

Instead, we encourage our youth to focus on positive, constructive paths. There are peaceful, legal ways to raise your voices and push for change. Use those channels. Help move our community forward.

Rano must now focus on healing, rebuilding trust, and recommitting to the peaceful values that have always defined us. We must come together—young and old, leaders and citizens—to ensure that such violence never happens again.

We call on traditional leaders, religious figures, community elders, youth leaders, and all residents to stand united in promoting peace and respect for the law. Let’s strengthen our partnership with security agencies and support their efforts to keep us safe, while also holding them accountable to serve with respect and dignity.

How we respond to this tragedy will shape our future. Let us choose unity over division, peace over violence, and hope over despair. The actions of a few will not define us. We will protect the legacy of peace that Rano is known for and continue working together for a better tomorrow.

Buhari Abba wrote this piece from Unguwar Liman Rano.

Ahmad Muhammad Ahmad

I was recently listening to Sarki Sanusi’s excellent presentation titled “How to Stop Manufacturing Poverty,” where he remarked that the single silver bullet that could solve 70% of our problems in Africa would be the education of the girl child. This inspired this write-up. If you find this too long, you can skip to the last three paragraphs for my overall message.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you might have come across my mother’s story time and again. I will share it once more because it is a quintessential example of Sarki Sanusi’s assertion.

But before I go there, allow me to digress a bit to share another example of a mother being a role model and inspiring a generation. I used to think it was a coincidence, but it seems too perfect to be random that the same woman—Hajiya Mariya Sanusi Dantata—produced Aliko Dangote, Sayyu Dantata, and Sani Gote: three billionaires and established businessmen. At the very least, she must have given them the latitude to pursue excellence. Being the daughter of a wealthy man and a businesswoman herself, she likely had a clear vision of what excellence looked like—and instilled that in their upbringing.

She may not be literate, but she is certainly aware. From my few encounters with her, I found her to be smart, curious, and disciplined. She must have passed these traits on to her children, giving them a sense of purpose and drive.

Similarly, I remember listening to Abba Karfe (founder and chairman of the renowned Garba Karfe Investments, with interests spanning manufacturing and retail) and Sammani Adamu (chairman of El-Samad, a textile conglomerate) reflect on the roles their mothers played in their entrepreneurial journeys. Although they spoke at different times and on different topics, they both acknowledged how much their mothers encouraged their business pursuits.

On my end, I have also always seen my mother as another perfect example of the ripple effect of women’s empowerment. She raised six of us (one of whom is now late) all by herself. Circumstances led to her being married for only 13 of her 69 years. Her first marriage lasted nearly 11 years before she became a widow with five children. Her second marriage lasted only three years. So, at 23, she was an unemployed widow with no formal education, saddled with the responsibility of raising five children—three of whom were girls.

For the next 11 years, she would reinvent her life: learning how to read and write (through the then Agency for Mass Education), obtaining a university degree, and eventually securing a job. It was only then that she considered marriage again. But as fate would have it, it didn’t work out—though she left that marriage with the gift of one more child, the sixth and last. She has remained unmarried for the past 36 years, never glorifying singleness, but instead dedicating her life to building a career in civil service, raising her family, and engaging in genuine community service. Today, she sits on the board of one of the government agencies—nine years after her retirement.

Recently, during a conversation, she shared a reality I had always witnessed but never heard her express. For the first time, she said that the life she chose meant she had to forgo the comfort of being cared for by a man. In fact, she has very little memory of such care, save for her brother who had been a pillar but who passed away too early. She had to be both the man and the woman, living life without waiting for help or rescue. Occasionally, support would come, but it was never reliable. She told me there is no glory in widowhood or singlehood, but if life throws that at you, you can still build something remarkable.

Many times, I tell people that I find more inspiration in my mother’s life than in my father’s—even though the scale of his influence and impact is broader. From him, I learned honour, authority, and discipline. But from her, I learned courage, resilience, and audacious hope. Life set her up for failure, but she resisted. And what makes it even more remarkable is that she did it as a woman, with very little support.

As Sarki Sanusi mentioned, the future of our progress and development lies in the empowerment of women. Every single good you see in me comes from my mother. I take very little credit. I usually say I don’t have a story yet. I hope to build a remarkable life, but I use her light—the remarkable life she built for herself and for me—to shine. And that will continue until I’m able to build something equally remarkable.

Quite recently, I was listening to Naval Ravikant—the famous entrepreneur and investor—share his childhood experience. He said he initially aspired to be a scientist, specifically an astrophysicist. But his mother, observing his personality, told him she believed he would become a businessman. She noticed how he would critique businesses and their service processes. She had already seen a curious business mind in him. That insight planted the seed that grew into Naval the thinker, investor, and billionaire.

So, back to the topic: if we can instill enough ambition in women, it will filter down to their offspring—both male and female. This creates a community of ambitious individuals whose lives are rooted in excellence and determination, like the examples shared above. Had my mother not found a higher purpose in education and work, I might have become the sixth of 8–10 children she could have given birth to, making it more challenging to ration the little resources available and provide proper childcare.

Empowering women begins with educating them—formally or informally (especially for older women in underserved areas)—and giving them the latitude to live a dignified life. The bottom line is for a woman or girl to become aware—of herself, her environment, and the opportunities around her—and to aspire toward something meaningful. An unaware and unambitious woman is highly likely to pass that mindset on to her children or become a burden herself.

These stories are too perfect to be a coincidence. They represent a pattern and a model that can be replicated at scale: empower as many women as possible to live a dignified life, and they will empower the next generation.