Connect with us

Opinion

Kano First: Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s Vision for People-Centered Governance

Published

on

 

 

By Abdu Saidu | Governance and Public Affairs Analyst

Advert

Across the long and complicated history of Nigerian governance, the distance between a governor’s stated vision and the lived reality of the citizens that vision was supposed to serve has been, with depressing consistency, vast. Manifestos have been written with eloquence and abandoned with ease. Slogans have been coined with creativity and hollowed out with indifference. The political vocabulary of people-centered governance, of putting citizens first, of development rooted in the needs and aspirations of ordinary men and women, has been deployed so frequently and so cynically by successive administrations that it has, in many parts of the country, lost the capacity to inspire the very people it was designed to mobilize. Against this backdrop of accumulated disappointment, the emergence of the Kano First philosophy under Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf demands to be assessed not merely on the strength of its language, considerable as that is, but on the seriousness of its institutional grounding, the coherence of its intellectual architecture, and the evidence, however early and partial, of its translation into actual governance practice.
What distinguishes the Kano First Initiative from the generality of Nigerian state governance slogans is precisely that it has refused to remain merely a slogan. From the outset of his administration, Governor Yusuf has demonstrated, through the decisions he has made and the priorities he has set, that Kano First is not a campaign device that outlived its electoral usefulness, but a genuine governing philosophy, one that asks a deceptively simple but profoundly demanding question of every policy decision, every budget allocation, every institutional appointment, and every programmatic commitment: does this put Kano and its people first? It is a question that, if asked honestly and answered consistently, has the power to transform not just individual policies but the entire culture of an administration, reorienting the default instincts of government away from the interests of the politically connected and toward the needs of the ordinarily forgotten.
The philosophical foundation of the initiative is worth examining carefully, because it is more intellectually serious than casual observers have recognized. The Kano First framework is not built on the vague populism that characterizes so much of Nigerian political communication. It is anchored in a specific and historically grounded understanding of what Kano is, what it has been, and what it has the potential to become. Kano’s civilizational heritage, built over centuries on the mutually reinforcing pillars of Islamic ethical governance, commercial integrity, agricultural productivity, artisan excellence, and legitimate traditional authority, represents a development logic that was not imported or imposed but organically cultivated by successive generations of Kano’s people. The Kano First philosophy draws deliberately on this heritage, proposing not a break from Kano’s past but a return to its deepest values, values of integrity, communal responsibility, productive enterprise, and the subordination of personal interest to collective wellbeing.
This historical grounding gives the initiative a cultural legitimacy that purely technocratic governance frameworks cannot achieve. When Governor Yusuf speaks of placing Kano’s interests at the center of governance, he is not articulating a novel political idea. He is, in a very real sense, calling Kano back to itself, reminding its institutions and its citizens of a governing tradition that predates the distortions of recent decades and that contains within it the resources necessary for genuine renewal. That is a powerful message, and it is one that resonates in ways that development metrics and infrastructure targets alone cannot replicate, because it speaks not just to what Kano needs but to who Kano is.
The practical expression of this philosophy across the administration’s policy agenda has been visible in its emphasis on education, infrastructure, healthcare delivery, youth empowerment, and social welfare, not as isolated sectoral interventions but as interconnected dimensions of a single, coherent commitment to improving the quality of life of Kano’s citizens. What is most significant about this approach is not any individual programme or project, important as those are, but the governing logic that connects them: the insistence that public resources exist to serve public needs, that government institutions derive their legitimacy from the quality of their service to citizens, and that the measure of an administration’s success is ultimately not what it has built but how it has changed the lived experience of the people it was elected to serve.
Central to the administration’s ability to communicate this philosophy with the clarity and consistency it requires has been the strategic contribution of the Honourable Commissioner for Information and Internal Affairs, Comrade Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya, whose role in translating the governor’s vision into a coherent and publicly accessible governance narrative has been as indispensable as it has been intellectually serious. Waiya arrived at the ministry not as a conventional government spokesman but as a thinker and strategist with a formed view of what government communication in a genuinely democratic society must achieve. His foundational conviction, that the Ministry of Information exists not to manage the government’s image but to cultivate the citizens’ understanding, has shaped every significant decision of his tenure and has given the administration’s public communication a quality of intellectual seriousness that distinguishes it sharply from the reactive, defensive, and frequently dishonest communication that characterizes too many Nigerian state governments.
Under his leadership, the Ministry of Information has intensified and deepened its engagement across the full spectrum of Kano’s communication landscape, from the major state media organizations whose institutional capacity he has worked systematically to revitalize, to the grassroots information networks whose reach into Kano’s communities no national platform can replicate, to the professional media bodies and civil society organizations whose credibility and independence make them essential partners in the project of building genuine public understanding of government policy. The training of information officers across all forty-four local government areas of the state was not a routine bureaucratic exercise. It was a deliberate investment in the communication infrastructure that a people-centered governance philosophy requires if its principles are to travel beyond the walls of government ministries and into the daily conversations of the citizens those principles are designed to serve.
The Kano First Initiative’s insistence on transparency and public engagement as governance instruments rather than communication strategies is, in this context, more than rhetorical. It reflects a genuine understanding, shared by both the governor and his commissioner for information, that trust between government and citizens is not a given in any society that has experienced the levels of institutional betrayal that Kano has endured in recent decades. Trust must be rebuilt, slowly, consistently, and through the kind of alignment between words and deeds that cannot be manufactured by any communication campaign, however sophisticated. Every time the administration makes a decision that demonstrably prioritizes citizens over political convenience, every time it communicates that decision honestly and completely, and every time it follows through on a commitment it has made publicly, it adds a small but real deposit to the account of public trust that the Kano First philosophy ultimately depends upon.
It would be both intellectually dishonest and strategically counterproductive to pretend that this work is complete or that the challenges ahead are not formidable. Kano is a large, complex, and rapidly changing society whose development needs are enormous and whose resources, as in every Nigerian state, are constrained by structural realities that no single administration can resolve on its own. The behavioral and normative dimensions of the Kano First agenda, the attempt to reshape civic culture, rebuild institutional trust, and reorient the aspirations of a young and underserved population toward productive enterprise and collective responsibility, are generational projects that will require sustained commitment well beyond any single electoral cycle. The administration’s willingness to acknowledge these challenges openly, rather than projecting an image of effortless success, is itself a demonstration of the governing philosophy it champions.
What the people of Kano, and the broader Nigerian public, are witnessing in the Kano First Initiative is something genuinely worth paying attention to: a state government that has staked its legacy not on the volume of its projects or the scale of its announcements, but on the seriousness of its commitment to a governing idea. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has bet his administration’s historical reputation on the proposition that governance rooted in the genuine interests of citizens, communicated with honesty and intellectual seriousness, and implemented with the kind of institutional discipline that the Kano First framework demands, can produce something more durable and more meaningful than the conventional Nigerian gubernatorial legacy of roads, buildings, and ribbon-cutting ceremonies. It is an audacious bet. And for Kano’s sake, it is one that deserves every support that informed citizens, responsible media, and committed institutions can give it.

Abdu Saidu is a governance and public affairs analyst based in Kano State.

Opinion

Arewa Media Summit:Big Promises, Little Substance-Tijjani Sarki 

Published

on

 

Tijjani Sarki

I was genuinely amazed that the inaugural Arewa Media Summit ended with a communique. For an event presented as a defining conversation on media, governance and accountability in Northern Nigeria, the silence was difficult to understand. It was only after analysts and observers questioned the omission that a comprehensive communiqué eventually emerged.

I have read the document carefully. It is professionally written, politically appealing and rich in democratic vocabulary. Unfortunately, it is also painfully short on substance.

Beyond the impressive language, there is no implementation framework, no timelines, no measurable targets and no independent mechanism to ensure that its resolutions become reality. That is not how transformational policy conversations are measured. It is how public relations documents are often written.

Advert

Even more disappointing is what the communiqué failed to confront. The media space in Arewa is under siege, not only from misinformation but from increasing political manipulation. Today, media platforms are too often deployed to inflame unnecessary controversies, deepen divisions, promote personality cults, settle political scores and manufacture enemies instead of advancing public enlightenment and good governance. This dangerous trend deserved to be the centrepiece of the summit, yet it received only passing attention.

If the gathering truly sought to reshape the future of media in Northern Nigeria, it should have produced practical strategies to strengthen investigative journalism, protect editorial independence, support indigenous media institutions and insulate the media from political capture.

Arewa does not need another annual media jamboree with polished speeches and elegant communiqués. It needs a platform that speaks truth to power, promotes professional journalism, unites rather than divides our people, and produces measurable reforms. Until then, many will continue to question whether this summit advanced the public interest or merely refined the language of political communication.

Tijjani Sarki
Good Governance Advocate and Public Policy Analyst

Continue Reading

Opinion

IDP Is More Than A Humanitarian Case-Ekanem Joan

Published

on

 

 

By
EKANEM JOAN

When discussions about Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) arise, attention often turns to numbers and relief packages. Yet behind every statistic is a family that has lost a home, a child whose education has been disrupted, and a community torn apart by conflict. While compensation may replace damaged structures, it cannot restore the memories, dignity, and sense of belonging that displacement takes away.

Recompensation does not make it fine; How do you compensate a child staring at the fire and iron as it takes their lands, while uniforms hang up in a room? How do you price the memory of a mother who once called these lands home. She cuddled her children and the savoury flavour of meals each smiles on her family’s faces, or, the men who spent decades building a life, a family, a shelter, only to watch unconventional disasters take it away. The youths! With their lives sketched on a rough map, all gone – indefinitely. IDPs are just victims of a conflict or a humanitarian crisis waiting to be part of a scheme but humans with lives.

Nigeria is transitioning into durable solutions and we must remind the policy makers that a house is not merely a structure to be replaced but a sanctuary that has been entirely erased, some are memories. These compensations do not weigh the emotional fabric of what has been torn away. At first, it was a crisis to put an end to but then the plan changed, by the end of year 2023, statistics recorded by United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees to about 1.1 million IDPs (approximately 1,134,828 persons) with 50.3% below 18 years old and 49.7% above 18 years old. The same year saw 81.2% Boko Haram insurgency, 1.6% banditry and 16.2% herder clashes. This crisis was most prominent in the North-West region. The issue was worsening, leading to a humanitarian disaster and as the years grew the IDP numbers rose to 3.5 million persons.

Advert

This rise in persons is alarming. An increase of 2.4 million estimated is not fine. Compensation is not enough! as the number of internally displaced persons increased the government shifted its focus from protection and curbing the disaster to putting infrastructure in place. These infrastructures included the 2025 financial injection and the African Union Convention for Protection and Assistance of IDPs into law to provide food and shelter (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees). The policy makers have decided to place these infrastructures but numbers alone cannot capture the true weight of internal displacement. Statistics do not feel hunger, do not grieve the sudden loss of an ancestral home, and do not carry the psychological weight of an uncertain tomorrow.

The last IDP count done in 2026 by United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees shows total displaced persons as over 3.7 million. The causes still remain armed insurgency, farmer-herder conflicts, banditry and climate change across the affected regions including the North-East, Middle Belt and North-West (Borno, Zamfara, Sokoto and Benue).
87% of the IDPs live below the international poverty line and 60% face high levels of food insecurity, close to decades of displacement leads to limited access to healthcare and schooling. How do we fight a problem without digging out its roots. Across Nigeria millions of Nigerians have lost their land, homes and monuments of memories because of armed conflicts, terrorism, communal clashes, flooding and other disasters.
This does not end in loss of structures but lives too. Imagine a mother who carried a child for 9 months – nurtured and bred, that child wasted! or a father who struggled to give a child all that is needed to watch his own flesh and blood lay on the floor, lifeless.

Displacement hits the most vulnerable demographics hardest. Children are exposed to interrupted education and emotional distress or what about gender-based violence? The uncertainty and emotional weight of being displaced in your own country, your own land.

The Government must address the security gap. There must be increased, professionalized, and transparent security presence in vulnerable regions to prevent the “unconventional disasters” that turn citizens into refugees in their own country. Banditry and herder-farmer clashes are often hyper-local. Success requires empowering local traditional leaders, civil society, and grassroots peace committees to mediate disputes before they escalate into armed conflict.

As the policy makes provision for emergency food, clean water and canvas tents. Yet we know that the deepest wounds of displacement are ones that don’t bleed. Displacement is not just a change of address; it is a sudden, violent fracturing of life, identity and dignity. It is the theft of a person’s yesterday and the total blinding of their tomorrow. The approach is shifting from short term “crisis management” to long term poverty reduction and healing but our main focus should be the roots – reduce or eradicate banditry, set infrastructure to settle communal crisis and provide resources for all citizens, it is not just about moving the CSR to invest in vocational rehabilitation but removing the cause for a better Nigeria.
Fight for IDP and fight for a better Nigeria! It could be you and it could be I. Together we fix this humanitarian crisis.

EKANEM JOAN
200LVL STUDENT OF DEVELOPMENT AND STRATEGIC COMMUNICATION, UNIVERSITY OF ABUJA.
1ST JULY, 2026.

Continue Reading

Opinion

Arewa Media Summit:A Political Jamboree-Tijjani Sarki 

Published

on

 

By Tijjani Sarki

The recently concluded Arewa Media Summit in Kano was presented as a platform to redefine the role of the media in Northern Nigeria. From my observation, however, it fell short of the expectations of a summit and looked more like a political jomboree than a strategic forum for regional renewal.

A summit that claims to speak for Arewa should reflect the diversity of the region’s media ecosystem by bringing together journalists, editors, broadcasters, communication strategists, digital influencers, academics, policymakers and development partners. My observation is that many of these critical voices were either missing or insufficiently represented, giving the event the appearance of a gathering of familiar faces rather than the North’s broad media constituency.

Another observation is that no communiqué or clear resolutions emerged in the public domain after the event. If a summit ends without publicly outlining its decisions, implementation framework or policy direction, it becomes difficult to measure its value beyond the speeches and photographs.

Advert

I also observed concerns that the Honourable Commissioners of Information and Internal Affairs from the Northern states, particularly Kano State’s Comrade Ibrahim Abdullahi Waiya the host state, were not visibly integrated into the programme. If that perception is accurate, it represents a missed opportunity to build a truly inclusive regional media agenda.

Politically, this was also a missed opportunity to provide an inclusive platform for constructive engagement on national issues, including the policies of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. Genuine dialogue requires broad participation, not selective representation.

Arewa deserves a media summit defined by vision, inclusiveness, measurable outcomes and institutional credibility, not by optics alone. Until those elements become evident, many will continue to question whether the gathering advanced the North’s aspirations or merely added another event to the calendar.

Tijjani Sarki
Good Governance Advocate and Public Policy Analyst
Can be reach via responsivecitizensinitiative@gmail.com

Continue Reading

Trending