North is a victim of itself; solutions to its challenges lie within – Wazirin Katsina

Senator Ibrahim M. Ida is the Wazirin Katsina and a member of the foremost northern socio-political organization, the Arewa Consultative Forum (ACF). The elder statesman and business mogul in this interview with Weekend Trust dissects the origin of the current multidimensional challenges confronting the Northern region and proffers solutions.   Reflecting on recent events, what […]

North is a victim of itself; solutions to its challenges lie within – Wazirin Katsina

Senator Ibrahim M. Ida

Senator Ibrahim M. Ida is the Wazirin Katsina and a member of the foremost northern socio-political organization, the Arewa Consultative Forum (ACF). The elder statesman and business mogul in this interview with Weekend Trust dissects the origin of the current multidimensional challenges confronting the Northern region and proffers solutions.

 

Reflecting on recent events, what would you say caused the North to experience violence in recent years?

There are two main reasons—one historical and the other incidental. Historically, we’ve always believed that things will take care of themselves. We rely heavily on our culture, faith, and way of life. Even when the writing was on the wall that things couldn’t continue as they were, we didn’t plan for the future. We always thought, “Alhamdulillah, the future will take care of itself,” but it never does.

Incidental factors come into play when you fail to plan; essentially, you are planning to fail. There’s a clear correlation between the number of people you need to cater for and the resources available. For example, when you’re single, you have one mouth to feed, but once you marry and have children, your responsibilities grow. Unfortunately, in the North, we believed that our abundant land and favourable climate would continue indefinitely. In the past, rains were timely, harvests were good, and climate change, though present, wasn’t as severe because the demand on the land was not as intense. We could afford to leave some land fallow and farm elsewhere. Over time, though, population growth outpaced our productive capacity. This created a gap—we started producing more people than the resources could support, including food, housing, and education. The population was growing exponentially, while our resources increased at a much slower rate. This was a recipe for disaster.

Secondly, during the period of centralised regional government, there was a unified authority that could plan for the entire region. However, this dissipated with the military incursion in 1966, and as more states were created, planning became more fragmented. Resources started to dwindle as they were increasingly diverted to non-productive sectors. We were once forward-thinking, but both the nation and the region stopped planning ahead. As the population grew, climate change reduced land productivity, and desertification began to encroach. The quality of infrastructure—power, water supply, roads, and schools—deteriorated. Infrastructure is directly linked to job creation, and as farming became less viable, we failed to develop industries that could absorb the growing labour force. Power supply dwindled, industries couldn’t thrive, and this led to mass unemployment. The focus shifted to government jobs, reducing people’s motivation to be creative, productive, and entrepreneurial.

This situation also led to the creation of ungoverned spaces—areas without schools, hospitals, or security systems. As these spaces grew, they became breeding grounds for antisocial activities. The violence we’re experiencing now didn’t happen overnight; it built up gradually. We either didn’t notice or wrongly assumed that things would resolve themselves.

As the population grew, many young people saw no point in education if it didn’t lead to employment. This led to a rise in out-of-school children, who then became prime targets for recruitment into antisocial activities.

In hindsight, what we’re facing now should have been anticipated and prevented. Unfortunately, we are now dealing with problems that we lack the resources to address. Creating jobs for the large population is a major challenge, but even if we had the jobs, many lack the skills and education to fill them. The North is a victim of its own making, and while it’s easy to blame others, ultimately, the responsibility falls on us, not the government. We are improvising, but the issue with improvisation is that, over time, the limited resources we have become practically useless.

 

When the protests took place, they were dominated by young kids, some in their teens, often linked to the Almajiri system. This issue has been prevalent in the North for a long time. How do we solve it?

The Almajiri issue is deeply connected to the way we raise and produce children. The ones you saw during the protests are just the tip of the iceberg. If you visit our towns, villages, and cities, you’ll see even more children who contribute to antisocial behaviours in urban areas. The problem isn’t just with those who are visible; there are many more who can’t come out simply because the space is occupied. If you remove the current ones, others will take their place because we continue to produce more.

When discussing solutions, much of it is cultural and social. We seem to have a misinterpretation of some verses of the holy books, believing that we should marry and produce children. However, I believe the intent is to marry and produce high-quality, or at least good-quality, individuals—people you can cater for. In developed societies, the number of people engaged in primary production is decreasing, but productivity is increasing. Those who are no longer needed in primary production are getting educated and having value added to them.

When you add value to a person, they can either find employment or create it themselves. If they can’t find work locally, they can move to where they are needed and become more productive. This is why many of our educated people move abroad—not because there aren’t locals there, but because those countries need them. Once there, they are exposed to higher skills, better equipment, technology, and education, which make them more productive. Unfortunately, everyone has a shelf life, and eventually, their productivity will decline. By the time they return home, they’ve often reached the peak of their abilities.

 

Some people suggest that moral decadence is increasing in alignment with westernisation, social media, and other modern influences. What impact do you think morality plays in the challenges facing the North?

Let’s begin with the family unit, the foundation of society. In the past, a father and mother would guide their child on what to do. During our time, there was limited exposure to external influences. There were cinemas, but they were in specific locations, and you had to physically go there to see anything. Over time, however, technology started bringing the world closer.

I recall when I was in the UK, if we wanted to make a phone call home, we had to go to British Telecom, book a time, and then wait as they connected us from the UK to Nigeria, then to Kaduna, Kano, and finally Katsina. It was a lengthy process. If we wanted to send money, I worked as a banker early in my career, and you had to go through a similar process—going to the bank, getting a draft, and waiting for it to be processed. But now, all of that has changed. With just a phone, you can talk to anyone or transfer money instantly. Our children are inevitably exposed to modern technology, which has both good and bad sides. 

In places like the UK, technology was developed with a purpose—primarily for education and entertainment, with clear limitations. For example, children there typically go to bed by 8 or 9 pm. But here, we’ve lost those controls. In the past, you would sleep when you were supposed to because your house would be closed, and you had to be inside. Now, those controls have eroded, and our children are exposed to things that weren’t part of our upbringing. 

It’s similar to a situation where a hungry person is suddenly given an abundance of food—they might overeat and harm themselves. Our environment used to provide a natural form of control, and forbidden things often seem more appealing. In the past, children were shielded from certain knowledge and experiences. You didn’t know when your parents were intimate, and sometimes, you didn’t even question how babies were made because even you were told they came from the mouth, you would believe it. 

But now, sudden exposure to new influences has disrupted that. There are people making money off this exposure, and our society is being affected. On the positive side, technology has made education more accessible, and people can now teach and learn more easily. However, without proper guidance, our values can be corrupted. For instance, a child can now hide and watch inappropriate content all night without anyone noticing. In other countries, there are strict controls—phones are taken away before bedtime—but here, we lack the discipline and infrastructure to manage these changes. That’s why we’re seeing a decline in the morality of our younger generation.

That leads me to the next question. In the past, as you suggested, there were people in the North whose words held significant influence, and everyone followed. But over time, with development, that seems to have changed. What happened to that leadership structure?

 In African society generally, respect was historically given to age and experience, which was central to the family system. In the past, values were deeply rooted in this structure—your teacher was like your father, and you had to obey him just as you would your parents. This was because your parents provided for you, ensuring you had food and shelter. However, over time, due to the consistent erosion of values and changing economic realities, the dynamics shifted. Now, parents are often more dependent on their children than the other way around, and this has weakened family values.

In the past, there were only a few educated individuals, often the heads of religious gatherings, who held significant authority. But now, young people have access to religious texts like the Quran or Bible and often interpret these on their own. When someone tries to guide them, they might question it, thinking, “What is he talking about? This is what the text says.” This self-interpretation has led to a loss of respect for traditional values, compounded by economic pressures and the sheer number of voices in society.

Previously, a small number of respected individuals spoke to a smaller population. Now, if we want to regain control and restore values, we need to focus on guiding the younger generation from the beginning. We must instill values in them early on, so they grow up with a strong moral foundation. The challenge today is that the gap between the older and younger generations has narrowed. Those who are now in positions of religious or moral authority are often close in age to those they are trying to guide. In the past, there was a clear age difference—your teacher was much older and more experienced.

During crises, like the ones we’ve seen, young people are often at the forefront. This is expected because young minds are impressionable and can be easily manipulated if not properly oriented. To address this, we need to start from the cradle, instilling values and ensuring that our education system is focused on developing minds, not just filling them with information. If we do this, we will see a positive difference as they grow up.

 

But what would you say created this leadership vacuum and how should the process of rebuilding the north proceed?

It’s important to remember that leadership is a reflection of those who are led. When we talk about leaders today, who are they? They are politicians—governors, members of assemblies, and political opponents. Just as the head is the leader of the body, if the head is well-educated and thoughtful, the body will follow suit, maintaining cleanliness and good health. However, if the head is no different from the rest, the leaders become mere reflections of the followers.

Many of our current leaders didn’t develop the qualities needed for effective leadership from an early age. You can’t change someone overnight. If a person grew up engaging in dishonest behaviour and is suddenly placed in a position of trust, their natural inclination will likely remain the same. While we need strong leadership, the process of choosing leaders has become flawed. We’ve confused eligibility with suitability. Just because someone is eligible doesn’t mean they are suitable for leadership. Suitability requires looking at a person’s background and potential, and there should be checks and balances in place.

Unfortunately, our leadership selection process has been so degraded that almost anyone can rise to power. When this happens, the first instinct for those who have been deprived growing up is to satisfy their needs, sometimes excessively. Human beings have an insatiable desire to fulfill their needs, especially if they’ve gone without.

For us to improve, our leaders must be willing to make sacrifices. They need to understand that they must maintain integrity, even when it’s difficult. If a leader is steadfast and doesn’t compromise, their subordinates will follow suit. We need to re-evaluate our values and recognise that no one owes us a living. God gave us the sense and ability to sustain ourselves.

In the North, there’s a tendency for people to rely on a wealthy relative, believing they no longer need to work. This mentality needs to change. We must recognise that we are the architects of our future. Once in a position of trust, leaders must remember that they are being observed, and they must act responsibly. There should be institutions to check and balance power, but ultimately, we must be willing to sacrifice for the greater good, not just in the North, but across Nigeria.

The issues of Almajiri and the millions of out-of-school children are products of our collective actions. These problems will not be solved by government action alone. The government can provide an enabling environment, but we must address the root causes. Simply removing these children from the streets won’t solve the problem, as more will take their place. Instead, we must engage with the communities where these children come from, educate their families, and provide them with opportunities to sustain themselves.

There are countries with no natural resources that have thrived by investing in their human capital. Until we recognise that our most valuable asset is our people and begin to cater to them effectively, we will continue to face these challenges. If we don’t change our approach, our future will be worse than our present. We must take proactive steps to improve our tomorrow.