Opinion
Kannywood Trajectories 3: The Fountainheads – Sani Lamma, Bashir Mudi Yakasai
Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu
In whatever aspects of human living, there is always a fountainhead. I freely borrow the expression from the title of Ayn Rand’s 1943 philosophical novel – which has remained my most favorite novel ever since 1974 when I bought it at the Kano Cooperative Supermarket. Philosophically as the plot of the novel reveals, it is the struggle for acceptance of great new ideas in human society. In its ordinary linguistic use, it means an original source of something.
Depending on who you listen to, there are competing claims about how the Hausa video film industry started – or who kickstarted it. In the scramble for claims and counterclaims, it is often ignored that a film – based on celluloid reels and tapes, is different from a video film – based on compact tapes which included VHS and Betamax tapes. If you can’t remember these two tape formats, just ask Mom or Dad – they will even fish out their own favorite Indian tapes for you to see from what passes on for attic in the house! My narratives in this series is based on the evolution of Hausa home videos shot with should-mounted cameras such as Panasonic M-Series camcorders (M-7, M-10, M-300, M-3500, & M-9500 SVHS).
Further, if Hafsat AbdulWaheed is credited as the first person to kickstart the Littattafan Soyayya genre with her So, Aljannar Duniya in 1979 (despite other novels existing prior to that), then one person has to be credited with kickstarting the thought processes that led to Kannywood. That person was Sani Lamma of Kano.
In 1980 Sani Lamma, an amateur photographer, and one of the earliest video parlor proprietors and cassette sellers in Kano, had the opportunity to perform the Hajj. It was while in Saudi Arabia that he first saw a video camera, which he bought. He hurriedly gathered some friends and asked them to recite religious poetry, and he recorded it—making it the first Hausa film, albeit on video.
When Sani Lamma returned to Kano, he entered into the video-coverage business which became an instant hit and money earner due to the appeal of people seeing themselves in videos. Soon he was covering naming-ceremonies, wedding parties, party conventions and graduation ceremonies. This gave established stage drama groups – and there were many of them – ideas about screening their own shows.
Perhaps the first of the numerous drama groups in Kano to make the leap from stage to screen was Yakasai Welfare Association which in 1980 persuaded one of its members, Bashir Mudi Yakasai, then working as a Press Photographer in the Ministry of Education to borrow a Umatic camera for them. They staged a play, Ɗan Duniya in which Bashir Mudi Yakasai handled the camera. The tape was shown on a television attached to the camera (there was no video recorder available to the group in any form) and given public showing at Rimi City Primary School in June 1980.
In 1981 the Kano State Government civilian administration of Governor Muhammad Abubakar Rimi set up its own television station, CTV 67 to counter what it perceived as the blanking-out of its achievements (and news coverage) by the Federal Government which owned the Nigerian Television Authority, NTA. The Federal Government was at the time under the majority of rule of National Party of Nigeria (NPN) which had no base in Kano, which was controlled by Peoples’ Redemption Party, PRP.
One of the strategies employed to set up the new CTV 67 television station was to poach staff from NTA, and lure them away with promises of overseas training, especially in the United States, and generally higher pay and greater creative freedom. Many left and migrated to CTV 67, including Bashir Mudi Yakasai, who was eventually sent to US for further training in 1981. CTV 67 started out with relatively superior technical equipment, including more than 20 Umatic cameras, all under Bashir Mudi Yakasai’s control. This gave him the opportunity to lend out the equipment and help the many amateur drama clubs and associations then getting interested in seeing their productions on television.
When Muhammad Abubakar Rimi left the office of the Governor of Kano State, he was succeeded by Alhaji Abdu Dawakin Tofa in August 1983, and Bashir Mudi Yakasai was transferred from CTV 67 to the Government House, Kano, as the Governor’s official videographer. It was he who suggested to the governor the purchase of a VHS camera which was used to replace the Umatic camera he had been using. This camera was made available to amateur drama clubs to record their productions up to December 1983.
Indeed, the availability of the camera through Bashir made it possible for a group of karate and Chinese film enthusiasts to stage a production, Kasko in December 1983. The stars were Ibrahim Muazzam “Boss”, Shehu Inuwa, Sani “Chan Se”. This video was aired on CTV 67 and became the first independent production to be given air time in a publict elevision in Kano. It was shown as “the year in review”. The video was actually shown as part of “fitness exercise” series of documentaries. The video did include a long sequence of work-outs, but embedded within a chop-suey karate story. The video thus had an official backing of the television studio heads because the amateur group actually wrote a letter requesting the studio to air the program as part of its “sports review” of the year.
When it was aired, the television studios were paid a visit by the National Security Organization, NSO, the dreaded state-security apparatus (eventually transforming into Department of State Services, DSS), in January 1984, whose officials wanted to know why Kasko was aired, who was behind it, and its purpose. It was seen as promoting gangland culture and therefore a threat to public security. The transition to democracy in 1983 was not without its problems of sponsored attacks on political opponents, and Kasko, cast in the style of gangland factions, was seen as providing further templates for antisocial behavior by youth. This was beginning of the clash between cinematic creativity and public culture in Kano.
In the meantime, within three years, from 1980 to 1983, Sani Lamma had established a reputation of being a cinematographer of sorts, screening his efforts in his video parlor. However, the catalyst that led to the emergence of the present predominant Hindi cinema themes of the Hausa home video was the establishment of Gyaranya Drama Club (GDC) in about 1981.
Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu
Is a Professor of media and cultural studies in Bayero University, Kano.
This was first published on his Facebook account.
Opinion
Farm Centre Under Siege: Kano Must Reject Political Violence Before 2027
Comrade Abbas Ibrahim
By all standards, the recent violent invasion of Kano’s bustling GSM Farm Centre Market by suspected political thugs is a dangerous development that must be condemned in the strongest possible terms. What transpired on Monday, April 27, 2026, was not merely an attack on traders and innocent citizens; it was an assault on public peace, economic prosperity, and the very foundations of democratic engagement.
Farm Centre is not just another market. It is one of the largest mobile phone and information technology hubs in Northern Nigeria, attracting traders, investors, and customers from across the country and neighbouring nations. Its vibrancy has made it a critical contributor to Kano’s economy and a symbol of the state’s commercial strength. Any attack on such a strategic economic centre is, by extension, an attack on Kano itself.
The scenes were deeply disturbing. Shops were looted, while vehicles and motorcycles were vandalised, and many innocent people sustained injuries. Traders—many of whom are still struggling to recover from previous devastating fire outbreaks—have once again been thrown into uncertainty, pain, and financial hardship.
Even more troubling is the fact that the Kano Passport Office is located within the vicinity. Such brazen violence near a sensitive federal facility raises serious security concerns and presents an unfortunate image of Kano to both local and international visitors.
Although the politician allegedly linked to the incident has denied involvement, the episode underscores a much larger and more troubling reality: the growing recklessness of political actors and their inability or unwillingness to restrain their supporters.
As the 2027 general elections approach, Kano cannot afford a return to the dark days when political contests were settled through violence, intimidation, and destruction. Democracy thrives on ideas, persuasion, and the ballot—not on thuggery, fear, and bloodshed.
Political leaders must understand that they bear both moral and legal responsibility for the actions of their followers. Silence in the face of violence is complicity, while ambiguity only emboldens criminal elements who exploit political rivalries for personal gain.
While the swift intervention of the police—including the deployment of teargas and the arrest of six suspects—helped restore order, the incident has once again exposed glaring limitations in the security architecture around Farm Centre. The police division is evidently overstretched and unable to respond effectively to large-scale disturbances in such a densely populated commercial area.
This is why the Kano State Government must immediately strengthen the operational capacity of the Kano State Vigilante Group and, more importantly, fully leverage the Kano Neighbourhood Safety Corps.
Established with an initial strength of 2,000 personnel drawn from all 44 local government areas, the Corps was specifically designed to complement conventional security agencies. The law establishing it wisely insulates it from partisan politics, ensuring professionalism, neutrality, and community trust. Under the capable leadership of retired Lieutenant Colonel Aminu Abdulmalik, the Corps possesses the discipline, structure, and local intelligence needed to provide rapid response and preventive security.
The time has come for its strategic deployment to critical economic hubs such as Farm Centre.
Recommendations for Immediate Action
First, all political parties and aspirants must publicly commit to peaceful conduct and take responsibility for the actions of their supporters.
Second, law enforcement agencies must thoroughly investigate the incident and prosecute all those found culpable, regardless of political affiliation.
Third, security presence at Farm Centre should be significantly enhanced through a joint task force comprising the Police, Civil Defence, and the Kano Neighbourhood Safety Corps.
Fourth, the Kano State Government should establish a permanent rapid-response security unit dedicated to protecting major commercial centres.
Fifth, political leaders must invest in civic education, teaching their supporters that elections are contests of ideas, not battles for survival.
Finally, traditional rulers, religious leaders, civil society organisations, and the media must intensify advocacy against political violence and promote a culture of tolerance.
A Test for Kano
Kano stands at a critical crossroads. The state can either allow desperate politicians and criminal elements to drag it backwards or rise above violence and preserve its proud reputation as the commercial heartbeat of Northern Nigeria.
The attack on Farm Centre must serve as a wake-up call. Political ambition must never be allowed to supersede public safety. The livelihoods of hardworking citizens must never become collateral damage in the pursuit of power.
Kano deserves better. Its traders deserve protection. Its democracy deserves maturity.
The journey to 2027 must begin with a firm and collective rejection of political violence in all its forms. Anything less would be a betrayal of the people.
Comrade Abbas Ibrahim writes from Kano and can be reached at abbasibrahim664@gmail.com
Opinion
Who will fill the late Ibrahim Galadima’s shoes?
Jamilu Uba Adamu
Last week, while writing a tribute to the late Alhaji Ibrahim Galadima, one question kept haunting me: who will fill his shoes?
Kano, with its long tradition of producing great men across every sector—from business and politics to academia and sports—has never failed to replace its icons.
In sports administration, Kano’s roots run deep. At independence, the Premier of the Northern Region, Sardauna of Sokoto, Sir Ahmadu Bello, appointed the late Alhaji Muhammadu Danwawu of Kano as the Northern Region’s sports administrator. Decades later, in 1991, the state produced the Chairman of the Nigeria Football Association, Alhaji Yusuf Garba Ali.
That tradition was sustained by the immense contributions of stalwarts like the late Alhaji Isiyaku Muhammed, the late Alhaji Usman Nagado, and the late Alhaji Abdullahi Abba Yola—men who served the game with distinction and left footprints in administration, mentorship, and institutional growth. Alongside them were other excellent administrators such as Alhaji Tukur Babangida, Alhaji Ibrahim Abba, Dr. Sharif Rabiu Inuwa Ahlan, Bashir Ahmad Maizare, among others.
Now, with the passing of Alhaji Ibrahim Galadima, a pressing question emerges: *who will fill his shoes?*
Galadima was not just an administrator; he was an institution. As a former NFA Chairman, he brought credibility, order, and dignity to Nigerian football during turbulent times. His shoes are large—not merely because of the offices he held, but because of the integrity, courage, and vision with which he led.
Yet, if history is any guide, Kano’s well of leadership has never run dry. From Alhaji Danwawu at independence, to the era of Isiyaku Muhammed and Usman Nagado, through Yusuf Ali in 1991, and down to Galadima in the 2000s, the state has consistently raised men of character to step into moments of transition. The challenge before us is not whether Kano can produce another Galadima, but whether we can create the environment that allows such leaders to emerge and thrive.
The vacuum is real. The legacy is intact. The question remains: who among the next generation will rise to it?
Adamu writes from Kano and can be reached via jameelubaadamu@yahoo.com
Opinion
A Baby in 1956, A Granny in 2026; An Idol in 2096: Abdalla Uba Adamu’s Yesterday is Tomorrow
Prof. Aliyu Barau
Professor Abdalla was barely 11 years old when the 1967 science fiction film, Tomorrow is Yesterday, written by D.C. Fontana, was released. The film explores the possibility of traveling back and forth in time. I chose this caption with the understanding that science has shaped Abdalla’s trajectory in academia. Even as a child, he vigorously pursued science. He would ride his bicycle to the commercial side of Kano to buy books from the Kano-based missionary bookstore—the Challenge Bookshop—whose worn-out structure I once knew along Niger Street.
What exactly happened in 1956, and what connections does he have with that year? This is interesting because some events of 1956 may have shaped Abdalla into who he is today. For instance, anyone close to him knows of his fascination with the Kingdom of Morocco, which gained independence in 1956, just as Sudan did. I am not certain whether the Professor has any strong connection with Sudan; however, I would not be surprised, given his work in neo-Ajamisation scholarship. If you know his passion for popular culture, then you should also know that 1956 marked the rise of Elvis Presley. He made his debut on The Ed Sullivan Show and topped music charts, fueling the rock-and-roll era. If you wonder why Abdalla has ventured deeply into the worlds of media and communication, consider that the world’s first transatlantic telephone cable was commissioned in 1956. And if you admire the way Professor Abdalla writes and speaks English with a Midlands sharpness, you should recall that Queen Elizabeth II visited Kano in 1956. These moments symbolically map his journey through time since his birth in 1956.
Professor Abdalla is already something of a scholarly “grand old figure,” as even the students of his students became professors a few years ago. I often find it difficult to call him merely a professor; he is more of a mallam in the true sense of the word in Hausaland, and even more a mwalimu in the truest sense of Swahililand.
Like him or hate him, Abdalla Uba Adamu remains one of the most genuinely apolitical intellectual vanguards Kano has ever produced. Whether you acknowledge it or not, no position has ever—and will ever—distract him from true scholarship. Agree or disagree, nothing can rob him of his golden joviality. You may tower over him physically, but he will dwarf you intellectually. What is striking about Abdalla’s scholarship is its velocity—like a supersonic missile traveling at Mach 15 (a hypersonic speed roughly equivalent to 18,500 km/h, or 11,500 mph). I have yet to see any of his students come close to matching his intellectual range, even as age and retirement approach him. Allah ya kara lafiya. Truly, in Abdalla, we have a rare scholar.
Personally, I say with confidence that I share a genuine and natural relationship with Professor Abdalla Uba Adamu. With all humility, I can say that this rare scholar holds me in high regard. Whenever I call him and he misses the call, he always returns it, and I leave the conversation uplifted by his humour. Za mu sha hira. I know the people in his good and bad books. Throughout Bayero University Kano, I doubt there is anyone who has taken as deep an interest in my academic progress as Abdalla. I can proudly say I am among the few he trusted to co-author a journal article, even though we come from different disciplines but share common interests. He constantly tracks my progress, often calling to congratulate me: “I have seen your paper on ResearchGate or Google Scholar. I am happy. Please keep working.” Many people do not know how humble and philanthropic Professor Abdalla is, but Allah knows. May Allah reward his hidden deeds and guide him to Jannah. One example is his remarkable act of building a house for a homeless blind man.
In 2006, Professor Abdalla served as the team lead for Celebrating Arts in Northern Nigeria, a project by the British Council and the Prince’s School of Traditional Arts, London. The project culminated in a visit by His Majesty King Charles III, then the HRH Prince of Wales. Abdalla ensured that Nasiru Wada Khalil and I participated fully in the activities, giving us the opportunity to benefit. He stepped aside to create space for us. When the Prince arrived and engaged with us at the British Council, I seized the opportunity to present him with a copy of my book, Environment and Sustainable Development in the Qur’an (with the approval of the British High Commission). I still remember Abdalla telling me, “Kayi daidai; nima da ina da shi, wallahi da na ba shi.” Just imagine—such humility.
At his retirement, social media was filled with tributes celebrating this rare scholar. I am optimistic that by 2096, long after both Abdalla and I are gone, the Hausa world will be idolising and drawing inspiration from his erudition and service to humanity. Even in death, his scholarship will continue to shape the future. One final lesson I have learned from him is that one should be in the university not for money or political positioning. This is a principle he firmly believes in—and one I also uphold.
Abdalla na Allah. Allah ya sa mu cika da imani. Abdalla conquers yesterday and tomorrow.
Prof. Aliyu Barau teaches at
Bayero University, Kano.
