Babbar Ruga, where leprosy patients find succour
For any first-time visitor to Babbar Ruga community, the environment portrays the look of any other quiet community on the outskirts of ancient historic city of Katsina with people going about their daily activities like any other day. One thing remains distinct – groups of elderly men and women gather under trees exchanging greetings, stories […]
For any first-time visitor to Babbar Ruga community, the environment portrays the look of any other quiet community on the outskirts of ancient historic city of Katsina with people going about their daily activities like any other day. One thing remains distinct – groups of elderly men and women gather under trees exchanging greetings, stories and memories from years gone by as told by their parents, relatives and forefathers.
However, beyond the ordinary rhythm of daily life lies a history that has defined the community for generations because Babbar Ruga has carried a name many in Katsina and beyond immediately associate it with; and that is leprosy.
To outsiders, it has often been viewed as an isolated people’s settlement, but to the people who live there, it is something much more than just a settlement of isolated persons. It is a place of healing, survival, family, hope, love and belonging. For many residents, Babbar Ruga is not simply where they live or stay, it is where life started all over for them after all hope was lost and regained.
A 68-year-old Malam Musa Adamu Danbaba, the ‘Sardaunan Kutaren Katsina’ knows this reality better than most of the inhabitants of the area. Sitting among fellow residents, the community leader reflects on a journey that has shaped his entire life.
Life wasn’t all about an illness as he notes that he wasn’t born with leprosy. “It is just a destiny that I have accepted. Although people discriminate against us, we have become used to it over time. We secluded ourselves here; and as you can see, this is our home. Some of us have spent more than six decades here. This is where we got healed and this is where we call home,” he said.
Malam Musa Adamu was brought to the centre as a child and has lived there ever since. According to him, the missionaries who managed the facility as at then took him in and provided treatment and other support for free.
“I can’t recall exactly how old I was then, but I grew up here under the care of the foreign missionaries who managed the hospital then.
“We were many, old, young people and children of different ages and genders. The missionaries took care of us. They provided us with food, clothing and medical care, and also trained us in different skills so that we could become useful members of society.
“After I recovered from the disease, I moved out of the hospital and joined the community of people affected by leprosy living in the settlement, which was gradually expanding at the time,” he said.
He explained that life in the settlement was heavily dependent on the support and assistance provided by the missionaries, as many of those living there had little means of sustaining themselves independently.
According to him, while some residents who were physically able engaged in farming and other small-scale activities to earn a living, others who couldn’t work due to the effects of the disease depended largely on humanitarian support and alms for survival.
He further revealed that despite being declared cured, life had remained difficult for him, as the long-term impact of the disease and his circumstances had made self-reliance a challenge.
“Even though I was cured, I still depend on others for survival. I still go around Babbar Ruga and nearby areas to beg for assistance because I have no other reliable source of income,” he said.
His story reflects the difficult reality faced by many former leprosy patients, who continue to struggle with poverty, social stigma and limited economic opportunities long after receiving medical treatment.
The story of Babbar Ruga dates back to the early 20th century. Historical accounts indicate that the area began as a Fulani ‘Ruga’, a temporary cattle settlement. The name Babbar Ruga, meaning large settlement, later became associated with the area during the reign of Emir Muhammadu Dikko of Katsina.
Its identity changed historically in the 1930s when Christian missionary groups, particularly the Sudan Interior Mission (SIM), established medical and missionary activities in the community. Hospitals, schools and treatment centres were built to care for people suffering from leprosy, tuberculosis and related diseases.
At a time when leprosy patients faced widespread rejection and isolation, Babbar Ruga became one of northern Nigeria’s most important treatment centres, with patients arriving not only from Katsina but neighbouring states and parts of Niger Republic.
The settlement offered far more than medicine; it also offered rehabilitation services, accommodation, farming activities and vocational training. For many patients who had nowhere else to go, the place gradually became a second chance at life.
Records show that over the years, governments assumed control of facilities previously managed by missionary groups, and the settlement evolved alongside Nigeria’s health care system.
But while treatment improved and infections reduced, many residents say the social burden remained.
Among those who found not only treatment but companionship is Malama Adama Ibrahim. She noted that when she arrived from Kazaure in the old Kano State in search of a cure for leprosy, there was uncertainty ahead. But she ended up finding a family whose bond has grown strong with every passing day.
“I came here 51 years ago in search of treatment because people ran away and isolated me,” she said.
However, within the settlement, she met her husband, who was also there in search of treatment. They got married and built a life together, and today, they have 9 children. Unfortunately, however, her husband is late.
She noted with pride that their children are healthy, adding that some of them are now married.
Adama Ibrahim notes that she recalls that she arrived the centre the same year that Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Sardauna of Sokoto, was assassinated, noting that she was young as at the time.
“I recall that the year I was brought here for treatment was the same year Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Sardauna, was assassinated. I was young then and afflicted with leprosy,” she said.
She explained that she was placed in the care of the missionaries, whom she referred to as “the white people,” and because she came from Kazaure in the old Kano province, she rarely had the opportunity to see any of her relatives as no one cared to visit her due to her condition.
She notes she spent years at the settlement and eventually recovered from the disease. However, after regaining her health, she chose to remain there because she no longer had anywhere else to go to noting that even if she returned to her community, the fear of stigma and discrimination would have made life difficult for her.
“I was still young when I recovered I met my late husband and we got married. We decided to remain within the leprosy community in Babbar Ruga. We have children and they are all healthy. Today, they are married and have their own healthy children.
“But you know the stigma is still there. Because of that, we can’teasily settle elsewhere. That is why we decided to remain here amongst people like us, where we feel accepted and free,” she narrated.
Speaking further, Adama said life has become increasingly difficult since the death of her husband disclosing that she now depends largely on food donations brought into the settlement by individuals and groups, as well as alms given by kind-hearted people.
She added that surviving on daily support from others has become her only means of livelihood, especially in old age, as she no longer has the strength to fend for herself. Despite the hardship, she expressed gratitude to those who continue to remember and assist residents of the settlement.
Her story challenges one of the biggest misconceptions surrounding leprosy: that people living with or cured of the disease can’t have normal life or healthy families.
Weekend Trust reports that despite building families and communities, many residents still struggle financially following the relocation of leprosy services after the federal government converted the former 720-bed hospital into a National Obstetric Centre. Many residents who spoke with our correspondent said that life had become harder.
A visit to the area showed many of the lepers gathering around the vicinity of the old hospital, relying heavily on the kindness of visitors and passersby for food and money.
“We now depend on good people who come here and help us because people still move away from us,” Adama said.
Hasiya Bello notes that , ever since she arrived at the centre, the settlement became her home adding that at fifty she can’t recall how old she was when she arrived the hospital in search of treatment.
Hasiya said she was born healthy without any sickness, but she was later diagnosed with Leprosy after she had lost her fingers. She explained that at the early stage of her ailment she noticed she lost her sensation instinct as she couldn’t feel anything even if she touched a fire.
She revealed that after she got healed, she became a member in the community because the broader community wouldn’t accept her due to her condition.
For many residents, the deepest wounds are not physical but emotional. Malama Lantana Bello said discrimination remained one of their biggest challenges currently as most of their painful experiences often occur when they visit hospitals or public places.
“People distance themselves from us and that affects us, especially when we are sick,” she said.
It is clear that the fear of leprosy persists despite medical advances and years of public health education. Health experts explain that leprosy is a bacterial disease that is curable, and early treatment prevents disability.
Dr Habibu, a medical expert in Katsina, said infections had reduced significantly due to better health care interventions, including widespread medication and improved immunisation efforts.
According to him, symptoms can remain hidden for long periods before becoming visible, making early diagnosis critical. Moreover, health authorities say the state has also intensified efforts through awareness campaigns, free treatment and early detection programmes.
It was gathered that the introduction of Multi-Drug Therapy (MDT) by the World Health Organisation transformed leprosy treatment globally, reducing infections and preventing disabilities.
Today, officials say new cases have drastically reduced to almost zero level.
The Katsina State Commissioner for Health, Musa Adamu Funtua, said the state government remained committed to eliminating the disease as the state had done a lot in ensuring that proper management and prevention mechanisms are being deployed effectively.
However, in Babbar Ruga, many residents said their greatest wish was not simply medical care but also acceptance because for decades, the community became known as a place where people with leprosy came to seek treatment. Today, residents hope it could also become known for something else, such as a place where people would learn that healing involves more than medicine. It is obvious that for many residents of Babbar Ruga, the fight against leprosy may be nearing its end but the fight against stigma continues.