Sokoto and the Culture of Silence

By

Dahiru Maishanu

London

When I was growing up in the city of Sokoto, obedience to constituted authorities was the norm of the society. Obedience to the elders, adherence to family values and norms were attributes that we didn’t have to learn because they were in-nate. Respect was effectively categorised in terms of age, position in society and adherence to religious tenets.

 

Community leaders were respected and their words were our command. The Magajin Gari, Sarkin Bendel, Eze Igbo, Sarkin Yoruba, were part and parcel of the leadership caucus of the Sultan. A word from any one of them was deemed a royal command from his Eminence. Their instructions and direc tives were adhered to with a high sense of submission. This was the Sokoto that my peers and I grew into.

The youths did not question the wisdom of the elders and the elders on their part did not falter. The people believed in the words of the leaders and the leaders lead with sincerity of purpose and dexterity of truth. Their words were beautifully painted with the truth and near absolute obedience paid with humility were given to them in return by all and sundry.

 

The words or instructions of traditional and community leaders, the people in government or their agents were received with finality whether they were delivered by the Magajin Gari, the Sarkin Bendel or any government official. Their words were the final clutches we held unto and they never failed us. Above all, the leaders lead without fear or favour but with equity, justice and absolute fairness. We never complained nor did we agitate, for there was virtually nothing to complain or agitate for. This was the quintessential culture of silence I grew with.

 

But the culture of silence was nothing to worry about for it didn’t stop the leaders from delivering their duties equitably and fairly. That culture of silence did not fail us because there was virtually nothing to cry foul against. We had uninterrupted supply of water and electricity. We also had free books and automatic scholarships; we even had ‘journey m oney’ given to us freely to enable us transport ourselves back home when we were on holidays.

 

The culture of silence then was golden. We all raised no voice of dissent against our rulers because we were ruled well.  No official banditry, no official thievery, no intimidation, no connivance with the intent of looting public funds and no sponsoring of thugs against perceived enemies. These were the ingredients that defined and necessitated our culture of silence.

 

Now the music has changed, but the dance steps have refused to go. The opposite beha viour is the case on the part of the leaders, but the culture of silence has remained unabated. Leaders of today are not like leaders of yesterday and they are not pretending to be so. They have made a 360-degree turn against all known norms and virtues that leaders were known with.

 

They have embraced corruption in its totality. They celebrate falsehood and married mediocrity. They hate the truth and worship money and power. They also married thievery and immorality. Miraculously, the culture of silence still remained despite all these.

 

In Sokoto today, the beautiful ones are not yet born a nd the ugly ones have simply refused to die. Any attempt to break this culture of silence is met with rebuke and fire-like response from those in authority. People who talk are either rushed to jail on trump-up charges or simply branded as ingrates who see nothing good in their God-given leaders.

 

Sokoto is just part of a larger story of the North itself. There is really no good story to tell about the so-called northern leadership after the first republic. Northern leadership has failed not only the north, but also the entire country. They have failed to use the golden opportunity that history and destiny placed on their shoulders as they found themselves at a vantage position to take the country to higher heights. They come in different shapes and colours: some in khaki and some in Ba bban Riga while others in immaculate suits yet others in traditional robes. All of them bear the same hallmark: kleptomania, light fingerism and a penchant for nepotism put together. Yet still the northerners still kept quite—the culture of silence continues.

 

The leaders have created their own empires, stole all the money, broke all the laws and yet are quick to get crossed and angry of any voice of dissent. They want the status quo of this culture of silence maintained and they continue to break the status quo of the culture of piety, justice and fair play. They want the populace to keep on the bargain while they threw to the gutters, their own part of the same bargain. They don’t respect the law of reciprocity, yet they want the people to make that law their watchword.

 

As written earlier, this culture of silence was golden when the leaders reciprocated it with justice, equity and fair play. But, when the opposite becomes the case, this culture becomes sterile and undesirable. As we don’t need a soothsayer to tell us this, this is the time to break the circle of silence not only in Sokoto but the whole of the north. 

 

This circle must be broken; the people must begin to voice out their opinions about issues that concern the state. Since the leaders have not kept their part of the bargain, keepi ng our own part will amount to a no contest.

 

Although the Sokoto political discourse has so far created some awareness on the activities of government and measured the pulse of the people of the state, this should be seen as a beginning step in the right direction. Any attempt to hoodwink and arm-twist the people from raising genuine issues with the government should be vehemently met with opposition. Issues bordering education, agriculture and irrigation, social welfare, health and infrastructure should be allowed to take a prime place in an open and free atmosphere of discussion and debate. People who voice out opposition to certain activities of government should not be seen as troublemakers and mischief-makers, but genuine stakeholders in the affairs of the state.

 

Sokoto belongs to all of us, not only those in government. The resources of the state similarly belong to every citizen of the state and therefore must be judiciously used for all, not shared by just a few ‘chosen’ ones. As the culture of silence die a natural death, as a result of the failure of the leaders to continue the embrace from their predecessors, let it not be a strange thing anymore that people are talking of their rights.

 

I’m not unaware of the campaign of calumny, accusations and name callings against my person, my aged mother and my entire family that have trai led my attempt to break this culture of silence from those who claim they know me. As I’m not used to reacting to rejoinders sponsored or not, I will continue to raise issues as I deemed auspicious and right to do. I will not glorify any go-between or faceless writer by engaging with him on any rejoinder.

 

As a product of the old order of culture of silence, I remain proud to be part of that order while it lasted. However, as compelled by the present circumstances, I make haste to announce my departure from that old order. Count me out, for I will not keep quite while this house in on fire.

 

Even Niccolo Machiavelli whose school of thought (as exemplified in The Prince), the present leaders seem to be exponents of, had a warning for people to adopt to changing times and break any circle that is deemed sterile and ineffective at any point in time:

 

‘‘Men in their conduct, and especially in their most prominent actions, should well consider and conform to the time they live. And those who, from an evil choice or from n atural inclination, do not conform to the times in which they live, will in most instances live unhappily, and their undertakings will come to a bad end; whilst, on the contrary, success attends those who conform to the times.’’ (Ibid, III, 8 (852))—Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527)

 

Let the debate continue.