The light side of a true monarch

And he was a delight to edit because he really didn’t need much editing. With Malam Sanusi Lamido, as we knew him then, you only needed to edit for space (his pieces were most times lengthy) and to  avoid libel, because he never minced words in his criticism of those  he felt were deserving. But […]

And he was a delight to edit because he really didn’t need much editing. With Malam Sanusi Lamido, as we knew him then, you only needed to edit for space (his pieces were most times lengthy) and to  avoid libel, because he never minced words in his criticism of those  he felt were deserving. But the quality of his written English and the flow of his arguments were flawless.
One day, while driving in the car with my husband, we found ourselves discussing an article Sanusi had written earlier. I said I was amazed at how many references he could make to different sources in a single article. Because in a just one article, Malam Sanusi will painstakingly quote religious and secular sources; ancient and modern philosophers as well as any other material he felt will strengthen his position. My husband smiled at my comment and simply replied ‘He wants to be among the most learned emirs of Kano.’
Emir of Kano? I echoed doubtfully. How can anyone who sounds so radical and non-conformist in his views covet an institution as traditional and conservative as the emirate stool? It seemed too far-fetched but I didn’t argue with my husband over it because I knew that he knew Sanusi Lamido well enough to know what he was saying.
Two years later I finally I met him. It was early in 2001 and we had just started the Daily Trust in Abuja. I was then the features editor and while sitting at my table in the line-editors office, my husband had called my intercom line and summoned me to his office and meet some guests. I went upstairs to the MD/Editor-in-chief’s office and came face to face with Malam Sanusi and his bride Rakiya.
After the greetings, my husband gave the simple explanation that Sanusi had ‘sneaked into Kano and got married, last weekend.’ I congratulated them and soon went back to work downstairs. But not before Rakiya had collected our email address with a promise to be writing us articles for publication. She kept her word.
Upon her return to England, where she was based, Rakiya began to send to Daily Trust a number of enlightening articles on Islamic banking.
Being a staff of a London-based Islamic finance establishment put Rakiya good stead to write us on the relatively new banking phenomenon. By the end of that year when Malam Sanusi called to speak with my husband, he was to tell me that Rakiya had delivered a baby girl named Aisha.
I used the opportunity to tell him I had delivered a baby girl the same month too. And mine was named Bilkisu. But that wasn’t the only thing we had in common to talk about that evening, the future emir told me about the responses to his highly humourous satirical piece in defence of Safiya Tungar-Tudu, also known as the Sokoto adulteress.
He had written a first person satire known as ‘An adulteress’s diary’in which he protested the death sentence passed on the rural woman, who was convicted for having a child out of wedlock. The Sokoto state government had just started implementing Shari’a criminal justice, following the Zamfara lead.  And Safiya was one of the first few to be tried under it.
Malam Sanusi had told me how the responses to his piece were gender-based. ‘You have all the men on one side protesting what I wrote and all the women on the other side supporting me’ he had said.
I told him that the responses to my piece, which was published a few weeks earlier than his, had been all from men. And they were mostly warning me not to try to re-interpret the Sharia because I wasn’t qualified to do so.
 Like Malam Sanusi, my piece was in protest against the death-by-stoning sentence on Safiya Tungar-Tudu. While not condoning adultery in any way, we had both argued that the procedure followed in exacting Safiya’s confession, which led to her conviction, was not in conformity with the Sharia. After national and international uproar against her sentence, Safiya won an appeal against the judgement and was set free.
My next encounter with Emir Sanusi was at the Kano peace forum, organized by the Shekarau administration, in the year 2004. I was to present a paper in one of the sessions. So on arrival at Mambayya House, venue of the event, I had walked down the corridor looking for the hall in which to do my presentation. Suddenly a fair and slim lady walked up to me and exchanged a greeting. I must have looked like someone she knew because she familiarly said to me that she was looking for the hall where ‘Yaya’ was doing his presentation. I asked who Yaya was and she replied ‘Yaya Lamido Sanusi’ and introduced herself as his wife Maryam.
I told her that I didn’t know which hall he was in and told her of my own predicament at not knowing where my own paper will be presented. I was to ‘find’ Yaya Lamido during my presentation, when struggling to translate the word minaret to Hausa, someone stage-whispered the word ‘hasumiya’ to help out. I looked up and saw that my helper was none other than the ‘missing’ Yaya. You see, my paper was written in English and it was only when I arrived at the venue that realized I was to do a Hausa presentation. I forged ahead with the oral translation until I came across minaret which I thought was ‘mumbari’but turned out to be ‘hasumiya.’
We met again in 2005 when Malam Sanusi came to Abuja as a guest speaker at the second edition of the Annual Trust Dialogue. He, along with late Professor Sam Aluko and Professor Mike Kwanashie, made brilliant presentations that made the dialogue session a memorable one. This was when I got the chance to meet his first wife, Princess Sadiya Ado Bayero, a shy and surprisingly humble person. Sadiya and
Maryam, along with some of their children had accompanied Malam Sanusi to the event.
In almost five years that he had been governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, Emir Sanusi and I never met. But we had exchanged a number of text messages, a few emails and two phone calls. The text messages had to do with my sister seeking a job at AMCON, having left her job at the Unity Bank because the bank no longer tolerated husbands and wives working together.
Since she had worked at the debt recovery section of Unity Bank, Ramatu had hoped to get a job at AMCON but didn’t know how to go about it. On her behalf, I sent a text message to Governor Lamido Sanusi asking him what she needed to do. He sent me a reply and even went ahead to make sure she was invited to Lagos for an aptitude test and an interview. My sister didn’t get the job though because they said it was Lagos-based and she couldn’t leave her family in Kano to go for it. I didn’t bother the CBN governor with this bit of news though.
But months later, he found the time to personally phone me and make some observations, when someone drew his attention to an article I wrote in defence of Islamic banking. That was the first phone call.
The second one came when he learnt that my sister, who had sought a job with AMCON, had lost her husband in a car accident. He called to pay his condolences and I was deeply touched by his concern.
In the final analysis, I didn’t go down memory lane, to detail my various encounters with the new Emir of Kano for the fun of it. It is because I am savouring the very last time I can be up-close and personal with the monarch. Though he has been emir for the last eight months, it is when he gets his staff of office today, that he is officially off-limits to mere mortals.
So while sending my sincere congratulations and best wishes to Emir Muhammadu Sanusi II, I wish to extend this unsolicited advise to him.
Please Your Highness mobilize the Dangotes, the Dantatas and the Rabi’us to make serious moves to return Kano to its industrial glory. Using your vast experiences in banking and finance, you will be able to convince these tycoons of the need to get those factories in Sharada and Bompai back in business.
And there is no harm in them setting up new manufacturing plants in rural areas of Kano as well. These measures will not only develop these areas, they will also provide employment, reduce rural-urban migration and end our pathetic dependence on ‘made in China.’
May your reign be very long, Your Royal Highness!