By Lamara Garba Azare

A nation is not merely a stretch of land marked by borders on a map. It is a will. It is authority. It is the solemn promise that those who govern will protect those who are governed. The day a country hands that promise to another power even in the name of security it begins a quiet retreat from its own essence a retreat Nigeria now appears to be making.

This uncomfortable reality was laid bare following the American military airstrike on an alleged ISIL terrorist camp in Sokoto-North West, Nigeria on Thursday 25th December 2025. By the open admission of the Minister of Foreign Affairs Yusuf Tuggar Nigeria provided the intelligence approved the operation and watched as the United States carried out the strike on Nigerian soil. Worse still Nigerians learned of this act of war not first from their own President but from the President of another country. History is unforgiving to nations that clap for others while standing aside in matters of their own survival.

Let us not hide behind diplomatic language. Cooperation is not the same as surrender. Partnership does not mean handing over the sword while you hold the scabbard. If Nigeria had the intelligence that led to the bombing of the alleged ISIL camp in Sokoto then Nigeria should have led the operation. Intelligence without execution power is like vision without legs it sees the danger but cannot move toward it.

The primary duty of any government is security. That duty cannot be subcontracted. When a state begins to rely on foreign jets to enforce peace within its borders it sends a dangerous signal to its citizens and to the world that it no longer fully trusts its own strength. And when such sensitive military operations are announced first by Washington rather than Abuja the symbolism is loud humiliating and politically costly.

A philosopher once warned that power given is rarely returned whole. Today it is an American airstrike in Sokoto. Tomorrow it may be decisions taken without even the courtesy of consultation. Sovereignty does not collapse in one dramatic moment. It erodes quietly justified by convenience and defended with excuses.

America too must be spoken to plainly. If this intervention is truly driven by goodwill then goodwill must go beyond missiles and statements. A sincere ally builds capacity not dependency. Where is the complete transfer of advanced surveillance technology. Where are the drones the precision systems and the satellite access that would allow Nigeria to conduct such operations on its own territory without foreign aircraft and foreign command structures. Friendship that keeps one party permanently reliant is not generosity. It is control in soft clothing.

There is also a troubling strategic question Nigerians must not ignore. ISIL and its affiliates have long found oxygen around the Lake Chad axis rather than Sokoto. That region has remained the heart of cross border terrorism recruitment and logistics for years. So why this sudden focus elsewhere. Who selected the Sokoto target and based on whose broader security calculations. In matters of national security silence breeds suspicion and suspicion thrives where transparency is absent.

Leadership is not measured by how many powerful friends a country has but by how firmly it stands on its own feet. A government that truly believes in its people would invest relentlessly in its armed forces equip them with modern tools and trust them to defend the nation with honour and competence. Instead Nigerians are being asked to celebrate a foreign airstrike as proof of seriousness.

But a country that borrows its shield today may wake up tomorrow unable to raise its own. A nation that allows others to fight its battles will soon be told where when and how it may exist.

Nigeria must reflect urgently and honestly. Terrorism must be defeated yes but by Nigerian hands under Nigerian command and for Nigerian dignity. Anything else is a costly miscalculation dressed up as cooperation.

As history teaches us freedom is not lost only through invasion. It is often surrendered through comfort. If Nigeria does not reclaim its security mandate now it may one day discover that what was traded away in the name of safety was the very soul of the state.

Lamara Garba Azare a veteran journalist writes from Kano.

By Zahraddeen Yakubu Shuaibu

Innalillahi Wa Inna Ilaihirrajiun (From Allah we come and unto Him we shall return).

It has been exactly seven days since the passing of our brother, a senior colleague and mentor, Malam Ali Adamu Jauro. Jauro left this world on 19th December, 2025 after battling with diabetes for many years. Despite years of resilience and strength in the face of the illness, fate prevailed, and he succumbed to the cold hands of death.

Known for his dedication and support to those around him, the late Ali Jauro is undoubtedly a dependable ally who stood firmly for the truth, regardless of whose interests were involved. Jovial by nature and fond of jokes, Jauro—as we affectionately called him—was equally known for his generosity.

Our path with Ali Jauro crossed in the year 2011 when I enrolled as a diploma student in Bayero University Kano (BUK), and he was also in our class. Soon after our matriculation, Ali Jauro became popular in the class, courtesy of his open mind and smiling face. You hardly have his time for more than 10 minutes as he moves around from one group to another due to his relationship with people.

Among the lecturers, Ali Jauro is highly respected due to his age and maturity. He would always intervene in issues relating to lecturers and students. Likewise, when misunderstandings arose among students—especially within our group, DMC Trusted Group—Ali Jauro would step in as an elder, restoring peace and understanding. He was respected by all and admired by many.

As his close ally and associate, my relationship with Ali Jauro was extraordinary. We were very close to the extent that my parents knew him personally and often advised us on sustaining our bond. He would always branch in our house before reaching his home whenever he is around. His words are always encouraging and beneficial to me.

Among our group in those days are Malam Mukhtar Wasagu, IBB, Bilya Yaro, Hassan Hussaini, Suraj Kududdufawa, Bashir Fagge, Zainab Nuhu Alfa, Faiza Ardo, Maryam Ajuji Yola, Sale Mai Matanga, Zakariyya, Anas, Abdulkadir and more.

His simplicity is top-notch, as you will hardly point out or remember when he fought someone. He is always ready to say sorry and apologise whenever he does wrong without looking at our age differences. We joke with him like a grandfather.

Through Ali Jauro, I met several important personalities such as Bashir Ahmad, former aide to late President Muhammadu Buhari; Bashir Abdullahi El-Bash, CEO/Publisher of Dokin Karfe TV; Balarabe Yusuf Gajida, Chairman of Muryar Talaka Kano State Chapter; Murtala Dankanawa, Salisu Zayya, and Bashir Gunki, among many others.

Driven by his passion for activism and humanitarian service, Late Ali Jauro introduced me to some civil society groups, including Muryar Talaka, where I served as secretary for some months. I also joined the Dandalin Siyasa group, a platform through which we get connected to many prominent politicians and leaders. I was also part and parcel of Tsagaya, another vibrant youth group.

In the journalism profession, Late Jauro convinced me to actively participate in the BUK FM (a community radio in Bayero University Kano) where I gained practical experience of the broadcast industry. I served in different capacities such as DCA, News Caster, Producer, editor among many other roles. He further motivated me to join Raypower FM, where both of us volunteered in pursuit of becoming professional broadcasters.

He pioneered the publication of a Hausa Magazine, Muryar Talaka, for which I served as an editor. Although we successfully published two editions, we couldn’t survive due to financial constraints and a lack of connections to secure adverts.

Although I was passionate about becoming a journalist, I wanted to give up many times, but he would always intrude with his words of encouragement.

“Life is hard, and you must work hard to get where you want to be. The most important thing is taking the right path to actualise your dreams. Don’t give up… Watarana sai labari,” in his usual words.

Like myself, many people have benefited from his wealth of experience and expertise in living a successful life. He gathered experience in marketing, business and many other fields of endeavour. He was popularly known as Ali Jauro Mai Gidan Wanka for the fact that he once worked and managed a Public Convenience.

Late Ali Jauro battled diabetes for over five years. I vividly remember when the early symptoms of the disease surfaced during our return from Adamawa State in 2016. Ya Allah!

He left behind his wife and children, who will forever miss him as he was a father and a husband who catered for the needs of his family.

May Allah (SWT) forgive his shortcomings, accept his good deeds, and grant him Jannatul Firdaus.
Ameen!

By Mustapha Yahuza

Some of the most consequential moments in governance do not arrive with sirens or slogans. They come quietly, carried by decisions that restore trust rather than chase applause. One such moment unfolded in Kano in December 2025, when the state chose to remember what it had postponed for more than a decade, the unpaid obligations owed to those who once served it.
For many years, former Local Government councillors across Kano State lived with a peculiar form of civic exile. They had served at the tier of government closest to the people, where roads are not theories and healthcare is not an abstraction, yet their severance gratuities and statutory allowances remained unsettled. Furniture, accommodation, and leave entitlements slipped from policy into neglect, surviving only as entries in ageing files and fading hopes.

Administrations changed. Political banners were lowered and raised anew. But the debt endured.

In Nigeria’s political culture, such liabilities are often treated as relics of inconvenient history, especially by governments elected on opposition platforms. Discontinuity becomes doctrine and memory becomes a casualty. Alhaji Abba Kabir Yusuf chose a different path. Instead of weaponising the past, his administration accepted responsibility for it.

Between May and December 2025, the Kano State Government carried out a three phase settlement that disbursed a total of fifteen billion sixty seven naira to former Local Government Council members across the state. The first instalment, paid on 28 May 2025, amounted to one billion, eight hundred and five million three hundred thousand eight hundred and twenty three naira twenty kobo (N1,805,003,823.20) covered 903 beneficiaries who served between 2014 and 2017. The second tranche, released on 18 August 2025, totalled five billion six hundred and four million, two hundred and five thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight naira seventy kobo (N5,604,205,998.70) and benefited 1,198 former councillors who served between 2018 and 2020.

The final instalment, concluded in December, involved eight billion two hundred fifty eight million four hundred and twenty four thousand eight hundred and twenty three naira, twenty kobo (N8,258,424,823.20) paid to 1,371 beneficiaries who served between 2021 and 2024.

Altogether, three thousand four hundred and seventy two (3,472) former councill members across Kano’s 44 local governments benefited from the exercise.

When aggregated, the payments translate to an average payout of about four million five hundred per beneficiary, varying by tenure and entitlement.

Perhaps, for many, it marked the first real sense of closure after years of waiting and this was not charity. It was duty fulfilled.

Indeed, the payments were neither rushed nor symbolic. They were structured, verified, and openly executed, supported by documentation and institutional oversight. Even serving councillors whose tenure began in 2024 were included, receiving fifty percent of their furniture allowance in the interest of fairness.

Therefore, in a system long shaped by selective justice, the consistency was notable.

Behind the figures were lives shaped by uncertainty. Former councillors postponed medical care, delayed children’s education, or adjusted livelihoods around promises that never materialised. Grassroots public service offers little protection from economic vulnerability, and when the state defaults on its commitments, families bear the cost quietly, not institutions.

One such voice gave the story human clarity. Abdulsalam Ishaq Jigo, a former councillor from Kumbotso Local Government Area, described the settlement as both relief and redemption. He praised Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf for what he called an act of kindness and fairness, noting that the payments were made without regard to party affiliation or political history.

“For years, we were told to keep waiting,” Jigo said. “We served Kano sincerely, but our entitlements were ignored. This government did not ask which party we belonged to. It simply did what was right.”

Without bitterness, he recalled that repeated appeals under the previous administration of Abdullahi Umar Ganduje produced no result. What remained in his voice was relief that the burden had finally been lifted.

Politically, the decision carried uncommon weight. Opposition governments are often expected to rule in contrast rather than continuity. Yet here, continuity was raised into principle. By settling obligations incurred under previous administrations, the Abba Yusuf government showed that accountability does not depend on authorship, and that justice does not change with party labels.

The intervention went beyond compensation. It was paired with reforms aimed at preventing recurrence, including improved payroll systems, digital record keeping, realistic budgeting, and disciplined fiscal planning. These are the quiet changes that rarely dominate headlines, yet determine whether justice becomes routine or remains an exception.

Local Government remains the foundation of Nigeria’s development framework. It is where education is first encountered, healthcare is most urgently required, and public trust is most easily broken or rebuilt. By honouring former councillors, the state strengthened the morale of those currently serving and reassured those yet to serve that sacrifice will not be repaid with neglect.

History will argue over parties and power, over who stood where and when. But citizens remember governance differently. They remember the moment a debt was paid, a dignity restored, a long wait finally ended. In that memory, justice is not an abstract promise but a tangible act, measured not by speeches but by settlements. Kano’s lesson is quiet yet enduring, that authority gains meaning when it chooses conscience over convenience, and that leadership, at its best, is simply the courage to do what should have been done long ago. When the dust of campaigns settles, it is such moments that remain, not loud enough to cheer, but deep enough to last.

Mustapha writes from Kundila Zoo road