Opinion
Darkness at Noon: Prof. Muhtar Hanif Alhassan, 1954-2024
Abdalla Uba Adamu
It was with heavy heart that I took a phone call that informed me of the passing away of my bosom friend, Prof. Muhtar Hanif Alhassan in a hospital in Cairo on Thursday March 21, 2024. I have been aware of his illness. I and Salisu Ɗanyaro have been monitoring his unfortunately deteriorating health. In the end, the sun sets at noon for an incredibly bright, brilliant, super intelligent unassuming quite genius from Kano, northern Nigeria.
I first met Muhtar in June 1993. He had returned from Sussex University, Brighton, UK after his doctoral studies in 1992, and people kept saying we should meet as we had so much in common—but of course he was much much brighter than I was, or would ever be. Although I also attended the same university, I had finished my PhD (or DPhil as they prefer to name their doctorates) in 1988, so we missed each other, as he came to Sussex a couple of years after I had left.
Our interface was computing. In early 1990s computer technology was making heavy inroads in Kano. Business Centers were being set up. The pioneers were Abacus Computers (Adamu Sufi), City Business Center (Abba Lawan Daneji) and Midtown Business Center (Faruk Ɗalhatu).
Having spent a year at the University of California as a Fulbright Senior African Research Scholar at UC Berkeley, from 1991 to 1992, I came back from the US heavily loaded with a vast amount of shrink-wrapped original software costing thousands of dollars, and a lot of Shareware software (try-before-you buy) on dozens of 5.25 floppies. This gave me a a high vantage position in software useability stakes in Kano and I became the main supplier of software to all and sundry—even establishing my own ‘company’, Tangerine Dream Computer Services.
Despite hungrily devouring dozens of magazines available on computing in those days (PC Plus, PC Magazine, Computer Shopper, PC World, etc.) sold by a cantankerous Lebanese lady, Nadia, in a corner shop near Beirut Road mosque in Kano, I was not a hardware expert. A colleague at Bayero said I should meet Muhtar whom I don’t know, but whom I was told was a genius. We met after Friday prayers one day in June 1993 in BUK. We formed a lifelong partnership. I can proudly proclaim that Muhtar taught me a lot about computers, programming languages and software useability.
Born in Galadanci, Kano city in September 1954, Muhtar was named so by his father, a Qur’anic teacher, at the advice of the father’s friend. Years later, as he related the story to me, he said decided to add ‘Hanif’ to his name officially, thus becoming Muhtar Hanif Alhassan.
He attended Gwarzo Boarding Primary School, a unique experimental primary school in Kano of the period. He finished in 1968, making us contemporaries (although he was a couple of years older than me). His excellence in leaving school certificate examinations earned him a place at Federal Government College Warri, Delta State from 1969 to 1973, one of the first Kano indigenes to have such opportunity. He graduated with distinction. Towards the tail end of his secondary schooling, he applied for a Russian (then as Soviet Union) scholarship. While waiting for the outcome, he was admitted at the School of Basic Studies, Ahmadu Bello University Zaria, the breeding ground of northern Nigerian intellectuals and technocrats where he reconnected with many former Gwarzo Boarding friends such as AbdulRazzaq Ahmad Muhammad-Oumar and Bashir Ka Saidu, forming a trio of highly motivated intellectual young people.
His application to Russia was successful and he was awarded the Foreign Aid scholarship purely on merit. He was placed at the Kyiv State University, Kyiv, Ukraine from August 1974 to September 1975 where he obtained A levels with distinction in Maths, Physics and Chemistry. This merged with his undergraduate studies for two years. His excellent results earned him admission in August 1977 to a Masters degree at the Belarus National Technical University, Minsk, in Electric Drives and Automation with specialization in Industrial Automation. He graduated with very good grades in 1982. Up to his passing away, Muhtar could speak passable conversational Russian.
On his return to Kano after eight years in Russia in 1982, he served his National Service at the Nigerian Mining Corporation, Jos, where he was absorbed after the service year. On a visit to Kano, the late Prof. M.K.M. Galadanci grabbed Muhtar by the hand and took him straight to the Faculty of Technology, Bayero University Kano and introduced him to the Head, Department of Electrical Engineering, then Abubakar Sani Sambo. Abubakar and Muhtar were classmates at SBS. They were both geniuses. Muhtar was immediately employed as an Assistant Lecturer in the Department. In 1989 he was a beneficiary of the last remnants of Kano State government’s scholarship generosity in the era and he was fully sponsored for a DPhil program at Sussex University. Many BUK staff attended the university, including Abubakar Sani Sambo himself. Muhtar finished in his DPhil in 1982, specializing in Control Systems with focus on – Permanent Magnet Synchronous Motors in Position.
Muhtar’s brilliance in computing, robotics and early Artificial Intelligence even in the crude years of the 1980s were clear enough to make Bayero University Kano appoint him the first Director Management Information Systems (MIS) to automate the decision making process in the university from 1993 to 1995.
He was in this position until he was hijacked by Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University (ATBU) Bauchi in 1996 where he was appointed Director MIS and Deputy Director Computing Services and Senior Lecturer in Engineering and Computer Science. While there, he led a team of IT Professionals responsible for establishment of a robust information system for the University. This was solid enough to make Inland Bank Nigeria Plc engage him to automate their operations—becoming one of the first few Nigerian banks to do so in the late 1990s.
In 2004 he was literally hijacked by the then Registrar-General of the Corporate Affairs Commission, Ahmed Almustapha who had just been appointed the RG of CAC, and wanted the best to automate the Corporation. He knew of Muhtar and lost no time in bulldozing Muhtar to transfer his services to CAC. Muhtar served as Director ICT (Information Management System) CAC for seven years, leaving in 2011. While at CAC he led that team that transformed the Commission’s processes from manual to Web based transactions using electronic workflows over a rugged intranet that spans the 36 states of Nigeria. CAC is still benefitting from this innovation.
He went back to academia, this time to Nile University in 2011 becoming the Head of Electronics Engineering Department, and later, the Deputy Vice-Chancellor (Administration). In 2013, he was, once more, headhunted, this time by Prof. Vincent Ado Tenebe, a former colleague of his at ATBU and then the Vice-Chancellor of the National Open University of Nigeria (NOUN). Prof. Tenebe employed Muhtar on December 11, 2013 as a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Computer Sciences in the then School of Science and Technology. He was posted as the Director, NOUN Special Study Centre, Public Service Institute of Nigeria.
However, at Nile University he was due for promotion to Associate Professor, and the University had sent his papers for assessment. The result came back positive and he was duly promoted Associate Professor of Computer science with effect from March 2, 2015, even after had left the university. NOUN therefore merely endorsed this position in January 2016 through another set of positive assessments.
I was appointed the Vice-Chancellor, National Open University of Nigeria in February 2016. When I reported, I was hugely relieved to see that Muhtar was already a staff in the university. Right there and then, I felt more than half of my job would be easy. On taking over, I met a chorus of protests from students about missing results, miscalculation of results, website glitches, etc. The MIS system of NOUN at the time was outsourced to external contractors.
After studying the situation for over three months, I created a brand new Directorate of Management Information Systems (DMIS) and made Muhtar the Director. I gave him only one task: bring back our data. No more outsourcing. And no limit to resources. These were two things Muhtar wanted to truly excel: resources and targets.
And he did deliver. By 2017, and despite howls of protests both from within the university and from the companies feeding fat on NOUN’s huge number of students, Muhtar had come up with a robust MIS system, NOUN Portal StudWare, that withstood a series of hacks.
Within two years, we had cleared all student results backlogs, created an effective internal monitoring mechanism and dispensed with the contractors who were charging the university billions to run a system a dedicated team of just five people could. But then, Muhtar was equivalent to more than 10 people when it comes to coding. It was difficult to see how he could fail, with the following specialties in his belt: Computer-aided analysis of magnetic fields, object-oriented programming solutions to engineering problems, data-driven applications, web based data communications (xml, etc.), Design and simulation of control systems, Computer control, embedded systems, mobile technology, m-business solutions, microcontrollers and microprocessors, near-field communication, digital signal processing, Artificial Intelligence and GIS technology.
Based on his numerous publications and designs (web pages, software applications etc.), NOUN promoted him to Professor of Computer Science in 2021. Yet, once more, he was hijacked by Al-Muhibbah Open University (AOU), Abuja in 2023, leaving NOUN on a leave of absence. As Allah willed it, his stay at AOU was brief before he was afflicted with illness. He was eventually rushed to Cairo for advanced treatment. His situation deteriorated, and on Thursday March 21, 2024, Prof. Muhtar Hanif Alhassan returned to Allah (SWT).
Quiet, unassuming, gentle, but with a laser-sharp brain, Muhtar was not only able to sort computer problems, but also willing to teach others – and in this, he found a willing student in me. We forged a life-long partnership. While I dealt with the marketing of our talents, with focus on software, Muhtar was the ‘engineering’ division, dealing with hardware. We formed a fair of early computer educators in Kano.
Our initial partnership was catalytic in introducing quite a few innovations in Kano computer circles. The main one was the development of a Hausa-language word processor. Muhtar had developed a prototype while on his D.Phil. program at Sussex as a personal side project, and which he named Marubuciya/the writer, giving it a feminine name that would delight feminists. He sought my input on its useability. I then requested Muhtar Yusuf (with the nickname of ‘Banana’ due to his curved shots in playing soccer which he was good at when younger) from the Department of Nigerian Languages with specialization in Linguistics. The three of us started a critical analysis of the word processor – Muhtar was coding, I was testing while Muhtar Banana was proof-reading it from linguistic perspectives. The project started in my living room in campus housing on Sunday November 21, 1993.
The process was a fascinating exercise in translation, as the team wanted a word processor where Hausa typists would easily understand the menus. The team relied on Muhtar Yusuf for input into appropriate equivalency to use. Expressions such as ‘okay’, ‘underline’, ‘italic’, ‘bold’, proved particularly problematic to translate in Hausa as single words, without creating hyphenated equivalents. This would not only be awkward in the spaces provided for coding such expressions, but can become confusing to neophyte computer users when convoluted translations were involved. Without any interest from the university, or any sustainable funding from outside sources, the Marubuciya development team became stuck with a prototype.
I then decided to reach out to City Business Center in the city of Kano to test the prototype. Surprisingly, the operators indicated that they were quite comfortable with the Microsoft Word menu structures and do not wish to learn all over again on another word processor. However, their main challenge was lack of a TrueType font that will capture Hausa language glottal consonants (Ɗ, ɗ, Ƙ, ƙ, Ɓ, ɓ). These were not found on any computer keyboard. That gave me a new assignment – to create the Hausa ‘hooked’ fonts. That was the beginning of the development of ‘rabiat’ and ‘abdalla’ Hausa fonts.
Prof. Muhtar Hanif Alhassan was a genius, pure and simple. He was not loud, he was shy, with a hidden sense of humor (and full of Russian jokes). Unobtrusive, Modest. Team player. He was truly a loss to Kano and northern Nigeria as whole. May Allah (SWT), forgive him, receive him in His Rahama and grant him eternal rest.
Abdalla, is a Professor of media and cultural studies at Department of information and media studies, Bayero University, Kano. This was first published on his Facebook page.
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
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.
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