New Telegraph 
What can the presidency do to stop gun attacks in Zamfara?
Dear Editor,
The residents of Zamfara State in Nigeria are living in a state of fear due to the relentless kidnapping of villagers by gunmen and the imposition of illegal levies on them, and these illegal levies must be paid by force. Those who fail to pay these illegal levies are often burned alive in their homes by these gunmen, who act without minding whose ox is gored.
The only authorised institutions that can demand tax from Zamfara State villagers are federal, state and local governments, but not gunmen. It is heartbreaking that Nigerians at home and in diaspora woke up to the news of bandits burning four villagers of Bungudu local government area in Zamfara state on January 29, 2026, alive, following the victims’ refusal to pay extortionate levies.
The said villagers lacked weapons for self-defence, relying instead on the presidency to use the public funds to protect them. Yet instead of being protected, they were burnt alive. The question to ask the presidency is this: Are the gunmen who kill Zamfara State villagers Nigerians or foreign mercenaries?
The villagers of Zamfara State deserve to live, and the government must not allow them to be burned alive because they refused to pay illegal levies. The presidency must either relocate all the villagers of Zamfara State to a safer state or immediately protect them from being burnt alive by these yet-to-be-arrested gunmen.
Our Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W) relocated to Medina from Mecca when the leaders of the Quraish tribe plotted to assassinate him. He was instructed by Allah to migrate (Hijrah) to Yathrib (later known as Medina), which he did, evading the plot to kill him with his companion, Abubakr.
I want to use this medium to inform President Bola Tinubu to take urgent action against these gunmen and stop them from burning Zamfara state villagers alive. Jimoh Mumin writes from Ibadan, Oyo State via jimohmumin@yahoo.com
Securing our future by empowering the forgotten farmer
Dear Editor,
As we face increasing concerns over rising costs and food scarcity, we must address a critical gap in our national strategy: the plight of the marginalised workers and “misfits” of our agricultural sector. Food security is not merely a matter of logistics; it is a matter of human empowerment.
For too long, the very individuals capable of tilling our land and feeding our people have been pushed to the fringes. To reclaim our food independence, we must ensure that these farmers are not only encouraged but enabled to return to the fields at the start of the planting season.
Timing in agriculture is everything; a farmer delayed is a harvest denied. We must provide these workers with the systemic strength to overcome their current hardships. This means creating genuine opportunities through equipment, credit, and land access that transform their struggle into productivity.
Supporting our most vulnerable agricultural labourers is not just an act of social justice; it is the only way to ensure there is food on every table. Now is the time for stakeholders to act.
We must clear the path for our farmers to do what they do best, exactly when the season demands it. Michael Oke writes from the Federal Capital Territory
Nigerians are fed up with unfulfilled promises
Dear Editor,
WHOEVER tells lies to gain honours will definitely lose dignity in society in the long run. The fact remains that truth is constant, but lies have a short span as they’re fragile and break easily.
In 2015, Nigerian youth were encouraged to vote for former President Muhammadu Buhari. The campaign team leader promised that each youth would earn ₦5,000 monthly until gainfully employed.
This promise wasn’t fulfilled throughout his two-term tenure. Politicians use rhetoric to propagate their election campaigns, telling the public strategies to alleviate poverty. But nothing works in favour of the masses. We were told to “keep calm” (“Elo Fi Okan Bale”), but essential commodities are skyrocketing!
Fuel pump prices are unstable, affecting the economy and transportation. With our sunshine, we can achieve much if the needful is done on time. I urge politicians to keep their promises as the 2027 elections approach. Michael Oladimeji writes from Ibadan, Oyo State
A call for financial autonomy of the FCT agricultural development programme
Dear Editor,
I am writing to express a deep concern regarding the current operational structure of the Federal Capital Territory Agricultural Development Programme (FCT-ADP). Despite its critical mission to bolster food security within the nation’s capital, the FCT-ADP remains tethered to the Federal Capital Territory Administration (FCTA) for its primary funding.
Currently, the programme is neither self-funded nor self-sustaining. This lack of financial autonomy creates bureaucratic bottlenecks that delay the arrival of essential resources seeds, fertilisers, and technical support to our local farmers.
To truly empower the agricultural sector in Abuja, the National Assembly must intervene to formalise the agency’s status. We must look toward the successful models of several Nigerian states where Agricultural Development Programmes (ADPs) have achieved a level of “gazetted” autonomy.
States like Kaduna, Kano, and Kebbi have demonstrated that when agricultural programmes receive their allocations directly and maintain a degree of self-sufficiency, the impact on rural productivity is transformative.
I urge the National Assembly to expedite the necessary legislation to gazette the FCT-ADP as an autonomous entity; ensure direct budgetary allocations to the programme to eliminate third-party delays; and establish a self-sustaining framework that allows the programme to reinvest in local farming initiatives.
Until the FCT-ADP is granted the independence to manage its own affairs, our goal of a food-secure Federal Capital Territory will remain out of reach. Michael Adedotun Oke writes via maof2020@gmail.com.
Arewa and burden of dependency
Dear Editor, The persistent rise in poverty across Northern Nigeria has become too visible, too widespread, and too uncomfortable to ignore. Despite years of government interventions, donor-funded programmes, and repeated political promises, the economic condition of many communities in the region has shown limited improvement.
While poverty is a national problem, its intensity and social manifestations in Arewa compel a deeper, more honest examination beyond policy failures and leadership deficits. One critical factor sustaining poverty in Arewa is the region’s high dependency ratio: a large population of unemployed, underemployed, or economically inactive adults relying on a small number of productive individuals for survival.
This pattern has normalised dependence and weakened incentives for self-sufficiency. In many towns and old cities across the North, families are familiar with the daily presence of individuals who depend on routine assistance for food, school fees, medical bills, and emergency needs.
What often begins as a humane act of support gradually becomes an inherited obligation. As children of middle-class families grow into employment, the responsibility quietly transfers to them, expanding to include extended relatives and, in many cases, the children of earlier dependents.
These demands are not symbolic. They can consume a significant portion of monthly income, sometimes exceeding 10 per cent, in an economy already strained by inflation and rising living costs. While similar practices exist in other parts of the country, the scale and permanence of dependency in many northern communities distinguish it from elsewhere. Helping others is noble, and no society survives without mutual support.
However, what is troubling is how little the condition of beneficiaries changes over time. Decades pass, and the same families remain dependent, with new generations added to the cycle. Poverty becomes inherited, normalised, and quietly institutionalised.
Two major obstacles sustain this dependency structure. The first is the concentration of responsibility on a single individual. In many extended families, one person shoulders almost all financial obligations: from school fees and medical care to wedding trousseaus and naming ceremonies. This arrangement offers social protection to the provider, shielding them from social pressure.
Yet it is a fragile system. When the “big wall” weakens through job loss, illness, retirement, or death the entire structure collapses, often plunging families into crisis. The second challenge is the absence of deliberate strategies to end dependence at the family and community levels. Daily alms, food handouts, and small cash gifts may relieve immediate hardship, but they rarely create lasting change.
Many well-meaning individuals give generously without plans to help beneficiaries become self-reliant. The obsession with sharing small sums among many often weakens impact. Distributing N50,000 among 10 people may satisfy social expectations, but it rarely empowers anyone.
There are no quick fixes to problems rooted in social behaviour and cultural norms. Still, practical steps can be taken at the individual, family, and community levels. First, underemployment must be addressed by encouraging income diversification rather than perpetual assistance.
Families should begin asking difficult but necessary questions: if the main provider is unavailable, who steps in? This reflection can inspire deliberate efforts to replicate skills, businesses, and income sources within households and extended families.
Second, there is an urgent need to equip young people with practical, modern skills that enable them to compete beyond low-paying government jobs. The heavy reliance on public sector employment in the North has contributed significantly to underemployment.
An average government salary can barely sustain a household, often forcing workers to remain dependent on extended family support. Some families and communities are already experimenting with solutions organising in-house training programmes, skill workshops, mentorship sessions, and even funding small start-ups through internal competitions.
Such models, if adopted widely, could reduce dependency and restore dignity. Third, communities must rethink how zakat and sadaqah are administered. Pooling resources for targeted empowerment rather than spreading them thinly can transform lives.
While this approach is socially difficult given the number of the needy, it offers a sustainable path out of poverty for at least some, who can then support others. Poverty in Northern Nigeria is not an unsolvable problem. While individuals cannot replace the role of government, communities are not powerless.
By rethinking dependency, redefining charity, and investing in skills and productivity, Arewa can begin to reverse a cycle that has endured for far too long. Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu writes from Abuja
