Column No.6: Just before the hundredth installment

This is the ninety-ninth installment of Column No. 6. Yes, you read that right: we’re just one column shy of a hundred, which is the milestone that should be recognized. But I felt that there is no need for clichés and drama to mark the hundredth. Instead, I will be loading up the clichés and […]

This is the ninety-ninth installment of Column No. 6. Yes, you read that right: we’re just one column shy of a hundred, which is the milestone that should be recognized. But I felt that there is no need for clichés and drama to mark the hundredth. Instead, I will be loading up the clichés and drama today, with this. I’m joking, of course, a luxury in these bleak times. But by any measure, a hundred installments of anything is worthy of a tip of the hat, at least. Now, this column actually clocked two years earlier in August, but I decided to wait till now to mark it. Over the months, one thing that’s never been in short supply is a good number of topics. This is, after all, Nigeria.

As I wrote back then, starting a brand-new column isn’t as easy as you’re made to believe. I even had a nifty postscript wherein I thanked mavens like my former bosses Aisha Umar-Yusuf, Mahmud Jega, Tunde Asaju, and Bala Muhammad, who penned magnum opuses so effortlessly, week after week. In other publications, there have been Zainab Okino, Martins Oloja, and now-late Sam Nda-Isaiah. Yes, I had the impression that it’s a cake walk. I would soon find out the reality of it all. Starting from scratch meant one important thing was needed: a title. I pondered for weeks (yes, weeks), yet nothing came up.

‘Jagged Little Pill’ (you know, the type that’s hard to swallow) was already taken by Canadian rock star Alanis Morissette. The writer Toni Kan suggested ‘Weekend with Baba Aminu’, but I told him it sounds too much like a 70s Lagos magazine offering. Many other titles popped up, all sounding only somewhat interesting, or bought from Kasuwan Barci in Kaduna. At the eleventh hour, after brainstorming sessions on the phone with then-Managing Editor Nasiru Abubakar, as well as fellow then-newbie columnist Abubakar Adam Ibrahim, I settled for the simple-sounding ‘Column No.6’, as I assumed it to then be the sixth column in the Daily Trust’s Saturday edition.

That done, I opened up my laptop. Because it was the top issue back then in August 2020, the very first topic I wrote about here was Covid-19. Don’t get me wrong; it’s still an issue, even if much less a critical one as it was then. Part of what I wrote follows: “Looking at the whole situation some more, one thing became clear: Covid-19 denial itself is borne of a deep-rooted distrust of the government, here in Nigeria, or wherever else around the world. So how, one would wonder, will the trust of citizens be regained? The answer, while simple, might be difficult to achieve. Do the needful. Address the people, directly and/or via officials, across media, ads, billboards, jingles, TV spots, and however else, in as many languages as possible.”

I followed that with an article on Katsina, the last paragraph of which reads: “Bandits are stealing sleep, property, and even lives. What’s happening in Katsina, as well as many other states nationwide, could happen in your state. It’s happening in my own home-state, Niger State, right now. It could happen to any one of us. And that’s exactly why any tears shed for Katsina – and Katsinawa – are tears shed for Nigeria. And that’s why it rests on those whose job it is to ensure Nigerians don’t shed a single tear, to do the needful. Basically, do your job.” Unfortunately these words might as well be ripped from headlines today. ‘Banditry’ continues to thrive, even if a recent military operation in Kaduna State was a rousing success.

The third article I wrote ranks among my most personal yet, because it covered a good part of my literal brush with terrorists (I was still calling them bandits, like the rest of Nigeria then) in Kaduna State. Parts of it follow: “Within seconds, we were face-to-face with the bandits, or potentially, kidnappers. The ones on my side wore ill-fitting camouflage uniforms, and rubber shoes. They also slung AK-47s. With turbo speed, I drove toward their barricade, which it appeared was just being set up for the evening’s business. As I drove over their tyre-and-wood barricade, all I saw was gunfire blazing, and all I heard was the sound of possible death, prompting an adrenaline rush. My car, being a trusty Peugeot, facilitated our escape.”

Unintentionally, many topics of mine would focus on security or related matters, oftentimes practically predicting particularly dangerous situations. There were no rules for what I choose to focus on, and that generality would see me take on government or elected officials, national trends, or plain, simple impressions of things, among others. I have even written an entire column about Waina, ‘double fire’ of Tuwon Shinkafa and Miyar Kuka in the morning as breakfast, as well as one on my first real experience with violent bigotry as a child growing up in Kaduna.

It is quite a wide spectrum within which I operate, obviously. But no matter how serious or playful any topic was, I have discovered that they all have one thing in common, and that’s the fact that I enjoyed writing them. If you have ever written me, emailed, or texted about an installment, or just to say how you enjoyed – or didn’t – enjoy any particular one, thank you. I will close by saying that’s what – insha Allah – I will continue to write about: Things I find interesting or important. Or even better, both interesting and important. Thank you very much for sticking with me, and I hope you remain for the ride.