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  • Nsukka Community in Ecological Trauma

    Nsukka Community in Ecological Trauma

    By Ben Aroh 

    The gloomy countenance of the natives of Achom in Alor-Uno, Nsukka Local Government Area of Enugu State is at variance with the villagers’ signpost with the inscription, “Welcome to Achom Village.” The picture of Achom is far from welcoming.

    The signpost, already consumed by grasses, stands beside a gully, which has taken over the once-serene road leading to Achom Village known for hospitality and farming. The road is no more, and currently serves as a water channel whose echoes resemble vibes of the Atlantic Ocean. This is the result of channelling of flood harvested from over nine-kilometre Nsukka-Okwutu road to Achom in 2002 during the construction of the road by the government of Enugu State.

    The inception of the gully is behind a lonely house occupied by Mrs Gloria Ogbonnaya and her family. Beside hers is a two-room apartment habited by rodents, having been abandoned by the original owners due to the flood.

    “The flood has killed us,” Gloria told THE WHISTLER in a depressed voice. “We are waiting to be sacked. Once it starts raining, we stay unease. They diverted the flood to us. We have been heaping sand to prevent the spills from coming to our house, but it has not helped matters. It began gradually, and it has escalated to gully that can swallow two electric poles.”

    The outlook of Robinson Attah, from the same Achom, portrays the mien of an irritated man. Mr Attah was seated in his dilapidating shop, and managed to welcome this reporter saying “the flood has dealt a huge blow on my family.” He stakes some walls of his shop to avoid caving in. The foundation is already bare, and the shop stands like a rootless iroko tree.

    Robinson said, “Behind the shop are my residence and my son’s abandoned building. The flood passes right by the foundation of his uncompleted building. There were occasions when the flood submerged our bedrooms in the night. You are simply woken up by the flood, and you are forced to carry the babies up, and stand while the room is filled up with water. In the case of my business, it is already a ghost.”

    Deserted house

    A peep into the abandoned house of his son depicts the imagery of Wordsworth’s classic poem, “The Waste Land”. It has gotten to the lintel level, remaining the roofing. Grasses and little creatures have found the rooms comfortable. Debris powered by the flood heap around the back of the building. Attah said he has nowhere to go, and simply waiting for the Godot.

    Flooding has stopped our farming activities – youth leader

    Farmlands of the community are being washed away on a daily basis. This makes planting crops on them a futility. Calls on youths to engage in farming are no portion of the people of Alor-Uno. Their food security is threatened.

    Uchenna Daniel, a youth leader, looks melancholic in front of his house, which is already cut off from his closest neighbours. Uchenna said, “The flood washes away the top soil, including our plantations. We are discouraged from farming to avoid labouring in vain. I can take you round to witness how planted crops are carried from our farms to far distances by floods. Some empty lands are becoming dumpsites as the flood evacuates logs of wood, stones, and anything from different places to our community.”

    We don’t bring our friends to our village because of shame – Eze

    Emmanuel Eze is a socialite, although his locale portrays a situational irony. His hairstyle and sports wears make him a ‘guy man’ in a squalid environment. Eze said, “We host our friends outside our place so that floods won’t harm them in case rain begins to fall. If it rains, the flood comes from all angles. So, we don’t risk asking our friends to visit us down to the village. We are also afraid when it rains at night. How can you ask anybody to sleep over when you are not sure that your room won’t be submerged? Houses also collapse randomly. At times, there won’t be rains in Alor-Uno, but still the entire area is flooded, accompanied by violent sounds.”

    Values of land at Alor-Uno are worse off. In a society where land agents become instantly rich from land deals, Alor-Uno offers no prospects for such. “Some plots around here are priced below N100, 000 while the same size in a nearby Nsukka metropolis is sold at N15m and more,” Eze lamented, adding that, “Investors can’t invest a dime here, not even for piggery.”

    It flooded my pot of soup – Mrs Attah

    Approaching Esther Attah was met with distrust. In her mind, nothing positive would come from re-telling her flood woes. She gave in after some persuasions. “We don’t sleep whenever rains set to fall,” she begins. “We are afraid of being submerged in our bedrooms. Such has occurred before. The flood covered my pot of soup and beds. We had to evacuate to neighbouring places.” She paused before continuing, “If it rains, school children would be required to stay back until the pathways are clear from the flood. If it sweeps anybody, the destination is Agbero, another village that has been threatened.”

    Esther Attah whose pot of soup was submerged by flood

    A Case Of ‘Double Wahala’ For Alor-Uno

    Afro-king Fela Kuti describes ‘double wahala’ as a state of quagmire. While Achom, alongside Umuowelle, Amaho Ugbele, Agbero, Ogbeke and Adani villages rue their pains because of the flood ravaging them from the eastern sector, the other villages in Alor-Uno hitherto free from the flood disasters got ‘amalgamated’ into the ‘wahala’ around 2015. The Enugu State government, had in 2014, awarded a multi-million-naira drainage contract to Anbeeze Services Ltd to properly channel all sources of water from some parts of Nsukka metropolis to a safe zone. The intervention solved seventy percent of all flood-related problems in the university community, including the flood that would have threatened the Nsukka haven of Nigeria’s first president, Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe. While the metropolis got the reprieve, it was the turn of the remaining villages of Alo-Uno to become the scapegoat.

    The latter-day flood is currently bombarding the community from the southern part, particularly at Amebo, Ihe, Ihe-Uno, Egu-Ihe, Amadim and Umu Amu. In the past three years, the inhabitants of these homogenous villages know no peace as their farmlands, buildings and roads have been destroyed. Many have already abandoned their ancestral homes.

    Building falling in parts

    Catherine Omeke, from Umu Amu village, looks dejected. With her five-room apartment already gone by, her son built another in an elevated topography about two years ago. “We rebuilt another one here, and already the same disaster is looming again,” she narrates.

    Near her endangered house stands a moribund building.

    She said, “This used to be the house of Izu Nwa Ezemma. The house was destroyed by the flood. Even our road is being cut off. This problem affects many households.”

    Some corpses have been recovered here – native

    Alor-Uno has not lost a native to the flooding, but it is not free from corpses. Boniface Ugwuanyi, in his crutches, was eager to tell his story: “Some corpses of people killed by the flood from Nsukka and other places are pushed to us. When people are swept by the flood and their remains are being searched, the destination is Alor-Uno. Some are actually found. The flood goes all the way to Umu Amu village, Amebo, Agbedo, Agboke, Uma Burani, Amaikpo Ani, Amaho Ubele, Ndiagu and Umu Amu. Many households have been sacked.”

    Corpses are evacuated to us, Ugwuanyi laments

    Government not unaware – Nnamani

    James Nnamani was reluctant to respond to questions about his plight. The state government has been sending delegations to the troubled community, but no interventions yet, he stated.

    Quoting him, “Government has been sending delegations, but we have not seen any result. They have been snapping and videoing the bad spots, and that’s all. We are not even being assisted to relocate.”

    What government needs to do – Engr Ozo

    Engr Israel Ozo is a civil engineer. He said the situation could be salvaged in two ways: “Let the state government open the blocked gutter at the point the culvert was switched to Achom. If the blocked area is opened up, the government should then channel the flood towards Obukpa. The road has shoulders to contain the drainage. I advise that a dam be constructed along Egu Obukpa to harvest the waters. Their diverting the channel to Alor-Uno is a structural error.

    “The other wing of the channelling can be controlled by building a dam shortly where the channelling stopped. The land is enormous to contain any size of a dam. The water could be used for dry season farming. Otherwise, let the inhabitants relocate to safe areas.”

    Enugu State government keeps in view

    Engr Gerald Otigi is the Commissioner for Works in Enugu State. When contacted, he said, “Take the pictures of the things and write a letter directly to His Excellency at the Government House. He will minute it to me. That will be the quickest way. Well done for helping the community. Don’t listen to any criticisms; just do it.”

    THE WHISTLER did the letter and submitted to His Excellency on 23/10/2024. Entitled: “Freedom of Information Request: Flooding/Erosion Menace At Alor-Uno, Nsukka LGA”, the request asked the governor: “How does your administration plan or is addressing the challenges of natives of Alor-Uno concerning their flood menaces; and whether there were feasibility studies on the after-effects of such flood channelling?” The seven days elapsed, but there is yet any response from the state authorities.

    It might imply that the anguish of Alor-Uno natives pertaining to these ecological disasters could still linger.

  • Mobility at a Standstill: The Struggle For Kano’s Disabled, Amid Rising Tricycle Costs

    Mobility at a Standstill: The Struggle For Kano’s Disabled, Amid Rising Tricycle Costs

    The rising cost of Persons With Disabilities (PWD) tricycles in Kano State has forced many disabled children to drop out of school, because of the inability to afford the crucial mobility aid needed to continue their education

    Stallion Times reporter, Stephen Enoch explores this crisis in-depth, focusing on one of Kano’s oldest tricycle manufacturing mini-factories, now on the brink of collapse, and how its potential shutdown could severely impact the disabled community without urgent intervention.

    Zaliha Ahmed’s dream of becoming a doctor was as bright as the sun over Dan Amale, a small village in Rimin Gado Local Government Area (LGA), 53 kilometers from Kano.

    Born into a family of seven children, Zaliha stood out, not only because she was the firstborn but also because of her kind heart and deep sense of responsibility for her younger siblings.

    Her parents, recognizing this potential, sent Zaliha to live with her aunt in Kano’s Brigade suburb in Nassarawa LGA, hoping that she could receive a better education and fulfill her dream of becoming the village’s first medical doctor.

    But Zaliha’s journey has been a difficult one. She is among the many children in Kano who were affected by polio, leaving her physically disabled. Determined to give her every chance to succeed, Zaliha was enrolled in Brigade Primary School under the care of Habiba Usman, her aunt.

    She excelled in school, with a sharp mind quickly mastering subjects, but as she reached the end of her primary education, the young lad’s hopes of continuing to secondary school were dashed.

    “I want to go to school, but the lack of a tricycle for people like me has made life unbearable,” Zaliha said, her voice shaking with frustration. Zaliha’s disability means she cannot walk, and for years,  64-year-old Habiba carried her to and from school. But as Habiba has grown older, the physical strain of carrying Zaliha has become too much.

    Now feeble and frail, Habiba can no longer provide this support, leaving Zaliha trapped at home.

    “The one thing that could change my fate is a PWD tricycle, a mobility aid designed to give people like me the independence I need to navigate. But the cost of such a tricycle is far beyond what my family can afford.

    “The tricycle is just too expensive, without it, I can’t go to school. My aunt has tried everything she can, but nothing has worked,” Zaliha said, as tears rolled down her cheek and dropped on her Yellow Hijab.

    This simple equipment stands as a barrier between Zaliha and her education. Like many other physically challenged children in Kano, Zaliha says her future hangs in the balance due to the high cost of these tricycles.

    Zaliha Ahmed PC: Stephen Enoch

    Back in Dan Amale, Zaliha’s days are now marked by sorrow and frustration. She spends her time watching her younger siblings go to school, her once vibrant spirit dimmed by the weight of her circumstances. “Every day, when I see my younger siblings going to school, I feel so sad because I used to be a student too,” Zaliha said, her voice barely audible through her tears. “Now I’m forced to drop out.”

    The emotional weight of Zaliha’s situation has also drawn the attention of her relatives. Recently, some have suggested that the best course for her is marriage.

    “They think I should just get married and settle down since I can’t go to school anymore,” Zaliha said, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes. “But I don’t want that. I want to go to school, get a good education, and maybe become a doctor, a nurse, or work in the medical field.”

    She shared her story, and the depth of frustration and sadness was palpable. Sitting on the red, sandy floor, Zaliha crawled toward the shade where she could speak more comfortably. Every movement sent up puffs of dust that clung to her knees. 

    I have heard of many empowerment programs for people like me but none have reached me, even though people have collected my details and promised I would get help.”

    Habiba, Zaliha’s aunt, sat on a worn-out stool in front of her frying pan, along the roadside when she spoke to this reporter, her frail hands clasped together as she spoke of her niece’s struggles.

    Her voice, heavy with years of worry and exhaustion, broke as she recounted the years of care she had provided for Zaliha, her disabled niece who had been left without the one tool that could secure her future—a PWD tricycle.

    “Zaliha is a bright girl with bigger dreams than our village. But I am old and I cannot keep carrying her to school. It has become too much for me.”

    Habiba Usman, Zaliha’s Aunt PC: Stephen Enoch

    As Habiba aged, she knew Zaliha’s dependence on her would only grow if something was not done. About three years ago, realizing her strength was fading, she reached out to a local craftsman, Malam Aminu Tudunwada, who owns the oldest PWD tricycle manufacturing mini-factory in Kano, along Katsina road.

    Malam Aminu was known for creating affordable tricycles for people with disabilities, and Habiba hoped that Aminu would solve Zaliha’s pressing needs.

    “I went to Malam Aminu, pleading with him for a solution, I had hoped he could help us because I knew I was getting too old and feeble. I wanted to ensure Zaliha could continue her education, to be the independent she deserves.

    “Even after three years of waiting, nothing has changed. I have been looking to that mini-factory, praying that they could help provide a tricycle for Zaliha. Her future is slipping away, and I feel powerless.”

    The helplessness in Habiba’s words revealed the deep emotional toll this journey had taken on her. For three long years, she had hoped and waited, watching her niece’s potential wither as her physical limitations kept her from pursuing her dreams. “Zaliha is a good girl, and she deserves better than this,” Habiba said.

    Crisis Hits Kano’s PWD Tricycle Mini-Factory, Leaving Disabled Community in Limbo

    Malam Aminu Tudunwada, a craftsman who operates the oldest PWD tricycle manufacturing mini-factory in Kano, is all too familiar with stories like Zaliha’s.

    Since 1980, Malam Aminu has dedicated his life to making tricycles for people with disabilities (PWDs) at affordable prices. Having experienced the same hardships as a disabled person himself, he understands the impact of mobility on education and independence.

    He narrates his story to Stallion Times: “I also dropped out of school because I didn’t have a tricycle to aid my mobility. I became a burden, and no one could take me to school,” 

    “That was 44 years ago, and my aim has always been to manufacture tricycles for PWDs at a much more affordable cost,” he recounted.

    However, despite his best efforts, the rising cost of materials has put immense pressure on his factory. What used to be sold at around N45,000 now costs at least N90,000 for a basic tricycle.

    “We try to make them affordable because we know how hard life is for PWDs, but many, especially those who need it critically for education, cannot afford even that. Some of the more advanced tricycles can cost as much as N150,000, placing them far out of reach for families like Zaliha’s.

    The impact of these rising costs is evident. While over 93 tricycles sit in his factory, ready for sale, the demand has significantly dropped.

    A section of Aminu’s factory where tricycles are lying for sale PC: Stephen Enoch

    Unlike before, when the factory was bustling with activity, many workers have left because the income they take home is too little. We used to have about 60 workers, but now we can barely boast of 28, and the numbers are dropping day by day.”

    The challenges facing Malam Aminu’s factory go beyond just material costs. Operating the mini-factory in open air, with no permanent structure, has exposed his business to the elements.

    According to Mallam Aminu, he has appealed to the Kano State government for land to establish a proper factory, but his pleas have gone unanswered. 

    “We’ve written several letters upon letters, but we never got a positive response. If we had a fully-fledged factory, we could produce more affordable tricycles for the disabled community, especially children like Zaliha,” he said.

    Despite these obstacles, Malam Aminu has continued to train PWDs in tricycle manufacturing, free of charge, helping them establish workshops in states like Zamfara, Sokoto, Niger, and even in the Niger Republic.

    Malam Aminu Tudun Wada, tricyle enterpreneur PC: Stephen Enoch

    However, his mini-factory is on the verge of collapse. “If things were better, we would have raised funds to assist Zaliha so she could continue her education,” he lamented, “but as things are, we cannot.”

    Malam Aminu called for urgent government and private sector intervention, not only in providing land but also in offering loans and empowerment schemes to help sustain his business.

    “Sometimes we see the government buying PWD tricycles elsewhere, but if they bought from us, it would be much cheaper, and it would improve our business and the livelihoods of PWDs,” he said.

    He pointed out that as his factory faces tough times, so too does the hope for children like Zaliha, whose future hangs on the availability of the tools they need to thrive in school.

    More Gloomy Tales

    The workers at Malam Aminu Tudunwada’s PWD tricycle manufacturing factory in Kano are facing dire circumstances as the factory struggles to stay afloat.

    Abdulmumin Mohammed, who works in the painting section, has seen many of his colleagues leave because of the dwindling patronage and the impact of rising inflation.

    “A small tin of paint that used to sell for N4,000 now costs N15,000. It’s become so expensive that I don’t come to work every day anymore—only when there’s work, and I know I’ll make some money. Otherwise, I have to find other ways to survive.”

    Abdulmumin working in the painting section of the factory PC: Stephen Enoch

    Tin of Paint at the factory PC: Stephen Enoch

    He described how, week after week, workers are forced to quit due to the difficult conditions at the factory. “Just last week, one of my friends left the job,” he said. “A lot of us are grumbling. If things don’t change soon, more people will leave.”

    Auwalu Shuai’bu, another worker in the wheeling section, has also felt the pinch.

    To support his family, he’s had to take on extra work, driving a gasoline tricycle (Keke Napep) to transport passengers when there’s no money to be made at the factory.

    “I can’t survive on what I earn from the workshop anymore,” Auwalu admitted.

    “When I’m not making enough here, I use my Keke Napep to pick up passengers. If there are no passengers, I play para-soccer to earn something.”

    Despite these challenges, Auwalu stays at the factory because of his passion for producing affordable tricycles for people with disabilities (PWDs) in Kano. But the reality is harsh.

     “Things are tough now, PWDs can’t afford these tricycles, which are a necessity. It breaks my heart to see this.”

    Auwalu working in the wheeling section PC: Stephen Enoch

    Both Abdulmumin and Auwalu expressed their urgent plea for government support, echoing the thoughts of his colleagues.

     “If the government could empower me with loans, we could continue making these tricycles affordable for the disabled community. Otherwise, the future of this workshop—and the people we help—looks bleak.”

    The workers’ struggle reflects the larger battle for survival within the factory, which has long been a lifeline for PWDs in Kano but is now on the verge of collapse.

    Stallion Times observes that as Malam Aminu’s factory teeters on the brink of collapse, his once-vital mission of providing affordable mobility for PWDs may soon become a distant memory, leaving many—like Zaliha—trapped in a cycle of unfulfilled potential, unable to access the education that could transform their lives.

    This report was published with the support of Civic Media Lab.

    Mobility at a Standstill: The Struggle For Kano’s Disabled, Amid Rising Tricycle Costs