Arewa’s lost glory and future promise

There are moments in the history of a people when the past shines so brightly that it casts a long shadow on the present. For Arewa, the northern region of Nigeria, that past is filled with stories of resilience, commerce, scholarship, and dignity. From the caravan routes that connected Kano and Katsina to faraway cities, […]

There are moments in the history of a people when the past shines so brightly that it casts a long shadow on the present. For Arewa, the northern region of Nigeria, that past is filled with stories of resilience, commerce, scholarship, and dignity. From the caravan routes that connected Kano and Katsina to faraway cities, to the flourishing of Islamic scholarship in Sokoto, Borno, and Zaria, the North once stood tall as a hub of knowledge, trade, and governance. Today, however, many in Arewa look around and struggle to reconcile that glorious past with the challenges that confront the region. The question arises: what happened to that promise, and more importantly, how can it be reclaimed?

Arewa’s history is deeply tied to movement, exchange, and ideas. Long before the discovery of crude oil in the south, the north sustained itself through agriculture and international trade. Kano was famously known for its groundnut pyramids that stood as symbols of wealth and productivity. Beyond the crops, the trans-Saharan trade routes turned the North into a meeting point of cultures. Camels carried salt, cloth, leather, and knowledge across the desert, linking Arewa to North Africa and the Middle East. These routes made cities like Kano, Katsina, and Maiduguri cosmopolitan centers where ideas and commerce thrived together.

But commerce was not the only glory. The North has always been a place of scholarship and learning. The Sokoto Caliphate, established in the early nineteenth century, built its foundation on knowledge and faith. Scholars such as Usman dan Fodio, Nana Asma’u, and Abdullahi dan Fodio left behind works that remain relevant even today. Their emphasis on literacy, moral conduct, and governance rooted in justice gave the North a strong intellectual heritage. In Borno, centuries of Islamic scholarship built around the Kanem-Borno Empire created a culture of learning that attracted students from across the Sahel. These were moments when Arewa was not simply a geographical expression but a beacon of civilisation.

Governance in the pre-colonial North was also marked by order and structure. Emirs presided over territories with systems of taxation, justice, and social organisation that maintained balance. The authority of traditional institutions ensured accountability at the community level. When the British arrived with their policy of indirect rule, they relied heavily on these structures because of their sophistication and effectiveness. While colonialism came with its burdens, it was also a recognition that the North had systems strong enough to govern large populations without chaos.

The decline, however, began when history met the realities of a changing world. Colonial policies tilted resources and administrative focus in ways that weakened the North’s competitive edge. After independence, the discovery of oil in the South shifted the nation’s economic direction, drawing attention away from agriculture and local industries. The pyramids of groundnut that once adorned Kano became relics of a forgotten prosperity. Industrial centres that had begun to sprout in Kaduna and Kano

slowly faded due to neglect and poor planning. With time, the North found itself grappling with poverty, educational gaps, and insecurity that now dominate headlines.

Yet, even in this moment of hardship, the promise of Arewa has not disappeared. What was once built through resilience and adaptability can be rebuilt if the same spirit is revived. The region still has vast land for agriculture, which if properly harnessed, can once again feed the nation and even export to the world. The same trade routes that once carried camels can today carry technology, innovation, and commerce across borders if investments are made in infrastructure and security. The intellectual heritage that once defined the North can be reawakened through renewed investment in knowledge and scholarship.

The potential of Arewa’s youth is another part of this promise. The region has one of the fastest-growing populations in Africa, and while that presents challenges, it is also an opportunity. A young and vibrant population, if well guided, can drive innovation, create new industries, and bring new energy into old traditions. The same spirit that made the groundnut pyramids possible can create new forms of enterprise suited for today’s world.

Another reason for hope lies in Arewa’s cultural resilience. Despite hardship, festivals, languages, literature, and traditions continue to thrive. Hausa remains one of the most widely spoken languages in Africa, and Arewa’s cultural identity is recognised far beyond Nigeria’s borders. This cultural strength is not only a source of pride but also a resource for unity and growth. It can be used to build bridges, attract investment, and strengthen solidarity among communities.

What the North must learn from its past is that glory was never given as a gift; it was earned through discipline, order, and vision. The leaders of old did not wait for others to define their future; they built it with what they had. Today’s Arewa must embrace that same mindset. While the challenges of poverty, insecurity, and poor governance are real, the answers lie in rekindling the values that made the region strong. Integrity in leadership, investment in knowledge, and the belief in collective progress must return to the centre of Northern life.

The future promise of Arewa is not an illusion. It is grounded in the very realities that history presents. The land remains fertile, the people remain resilient, the traditions remain strong, and the spirit of survival has never disappeared. What is needed is a collective decision to rise again. It requires leaders who think beyond short-term politics and citizens who refuse to accept mediocrity as their destiny. It requires communities that prioritise unity over division and a renewed pride in building what is truly theirs.

Arewa’s lost glory was not just about wealth or power. It was about dignity, order, and the confidence of a people who knew their worth. That dignity can return, not as a mirror of the past, but as a reimagined future that draws strength from history. The world is changing, and regions that fail to adapt risk being forgotten. But Arewa has been here before, and history shows it can adapt, endure, and rise.

In the end, the story of Arewa is not one of loss but of possibility. The glory that once was can be the foundation of a future even brighter than the past. The question is not whether the North can rise again, but whether it is willing to summon the will, the discipline, and the unity required to claim that promise.