Hannatu Musawa and the Politics of Cultural Estrangement

By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD

There are certain political questions asked in anger, and certain others that emerge quietly from bewilderment, and it is to the latter category that this piece belongs. How does a government convince a young Northerner that culture truly matters, when the very officials entrusted with Nigeria’s cultural renaissance appear curiously distant from the institutions that have kept Northern creativity alive? This is the uncomfortable question trailing Hannatu Musa Musawa, Minister of Art, Culture, Tourism and the Creative Economy, and I choose “uncomfortable” deliberately, for this is not an argument built on hatred or malice; nobody can truly know what resides in another person’s heart, and it would be dishonest to suggest the Minister harbours any dislike for her own people. The more serious question is what her public conduct communicates, for perception does not always mirror truth, but it hardens easily into political reality. And among young Northerners today, there is a growing perception of cultural estrangement, a feeling that Abuja remembers them only in fragments.

The latest episode feeding this disappointment is an olla podrida of grievances trailing Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, and the 2026 ABU Cultural Carnival, held between the 13th and 16th of August, which once again brought together the potpourri of colours, costumes and traditions that make up Nigeria’s cultural mosaic. What unsettled many was the reported complaint from the ABU Queen concerning the Minister’s absence and the absence of any meaningful official representation from her ministry. This is not a trivial complaint, and it will interest you to know why.

It is tempting, sitting comfortably in Abuja, to dismiss a university carnival as just another student jamboree, nothing more. That would be to misunderstand what ABU represents. It was founded as the University of Northern Nigeria, and its history is woven so deeply into the history of the North that the two can scarcely be separated. Its student population embodies Nigeria in miniature, which is why the carnival matters far more than its critics realise.

In 2025, it brought together representatives of about twenty states and multiple ethnic groups, including Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri, Igbo, Yoruba, Tiv, Gbagyi and Ebira, while a Durbar procession of a significant number of horse riders thundered through the grounds, Nigeria quietly rehearsing the possibility of living together. Most importantly, it is a space where Northern youths do not just consume culture; they produce it, and somewhere in the nooks and crannies of it all, the student from Kano encounters a tradition from Enugu, and the student from Sokoto discovers that a Nigerian identity does not require the death of a local one. This is precisely the ecosystem the Ministry ought to nurture instinctively.

Literary festivals that are putting the North on the map and providing platforms for important conversations and a nurturing ground for creatives, such as HIBAF, SOBAFEST, KAPFEST and more, are missing the presence of the Minister, whose presence would add more pomp, acceptance and institutional support in the face of dwindling funding for the arts and culture. By simply appearing, endorsing and appreciating platforms like these, the minister is creating lifelong friends and connections that will outlive her days in the office and enshrine artistic growth and development of the northern and Nigerian state as a whole.

The Ministry’s own language recognises as much. Musawa has repeatedly spoken of culture as an economic asset that, inter alia, supports vendors, artisans, musicians and hoteliers, and her stated vision is to turn Nigeria’s cultural resources into engines of economic development and national identity. So, the question becomes unavoidable: if culture is truly an economy, why should the cultural economy of Northern youths be treated like an afterthought?

There is an even deeper irony here. The Minister is herself an alumna of the very Northern tradition that produced ABU, and hails from Katsina, yet the university community has had cause to wonder whether she considers this platform worthy of her presence. Imagine what it would mean to thousands of young Northerners to see her walk personally into ABU’s cultural arena and shake hands with the young designers and choreographers quietly building the creative economy from below; that single gesture may cost the government almost nothing, yet to a generation convinced that Abuja remembers them only when their votes are needed, it could mean everything.

To be fair, a minister does not owe her constituents a performance of ethnic sentiment, and need not attend every Northern festival simply because she is Northern; her responsibility is national. But national responsibility should never curdle into geographical amnesia, for national culture is built by attending to the particular cultures that constitute the nation. There is something perplexing, and I say this as a friend of this government, about watching federal officials support cultural initiatives elsewhere with enthusiasm, while Northern platforms struggle to feel that same warmth from the minister whose portfolio ought naturally to embrace them. To be balanced, her record is not entirely brittle nor devoid of engagement with the North; her ministry secured the UNESCO recognition of the Kano Durbar, and has supported initiatives beyond the North too, so the criticism is not that she has done nothing, but that the visibility, the emotional investment, the conspicuous institutional support, remain disproportionate.

The recent conferment of the traditional title “Mairamar Kasar Hausa I”, meaning “First Daughter of Hausa Land”, on Musawa by the Emir of Daura, makes the conundrum even more poignant. The APC National Legal Adviser, Murtala Aliyu Kankia, described the honour as reflecting her role in promoting Hausa heritage, recalling that she had previously been called “Queen Amina of our time.” Such a title carries an expectation, simply put: be present where Northern culture and theatre are celebrated, and where the children of the North are learning that their heritage is a resource, not a relic gathering dust.

I say all this because it is becoming a genuine political problem for those of us who defend this administration among Northern youths, an unrelenting conundrum with no easy exit. It is difficult to stand before a sceptical young Northerner and insist this government values his creative future, when he can point at his university and his cultural festival and ask simply, where are they? Young people experience government not through policy documents but through recognition and the sensation that somebody in power considers their dreams worthy of attention. The danger for the APC is that cultural neglect can quietly metamorphose into political estrangement, far more dangerous than ordinary opposition, because one who merely opposes you may still listen someday, whereas one who concludes you simply do not see him may stop listening altogether.

This is why ABU’s carnival should never be dismissed as just another student affair. It is a laboratory of Nigerian unity and a living archive, one of the few spaces where culture is made anew by the generation that will inherit it. Hannatu Musawa, therefore, has an opportunity larger than just protocol; she can still show up, not as a favour to ABU or to Northern youths, but because the cultural economy she was appointed to build cannot be built solely from Abuja’s conference rooms.

Sometimes, the future of Nigerian culture is standing quietly under the drizzling rain in Zaria, or its hot sun, dressed in borrowed ancestral colours, beating a talking drum, reciting a half-forgotten poem, or walking nervously onto a stage, and all that student needs from the Minister is for her to be there. That is not a small request. It is, however, becoming an increasingly difficult one to answer, and a question the Ministry would do well to reflect upon before the next carnival drums begin to sound in Zaria.

Sani Abdulrazak, PhD, is a writer, researcher and public affairs analyst based in Zaria, Kaduna State.