Waziri in the House, But Not at Home

By Nuru B. Nyaku

In recent days, a significant and contentious directive from the Adamawa State Government has captured public attention. The governor, in a widely circulated statement, announced that all traditional title holders in the state must henceforth be indigenes of the local government areas where their titles are rooted. While the government has insisted this move is not political, its implications, intended or not, strike at the heart of longstanding traditional institutions and, more crucially, affect individuals whose contributions to Adamawa State transcend local government boundaries.

One of the most consequential outcomes of this directive is its potential effect on Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, Wazirin Adamawa. Atiku, Nigeria’s former Vice President and a son of Ganye Local Government Area, holds the revered title of Waziri, a traditional role deeply rooted in the leadership and cultural structure of the Adamawa Emirate. The title, by its nature, spans Yola North and Yola South, encompassing the emirate seat and the state’s political and economic nerve centre. Atiku was first conferred the title of Turakin Adamawa in 1982 by the late Lamido Aliyu Mustafa, in recognition of his rising national profile and commitment to the emirate. In 2017, the current Lamido, Muhammadu Barkindo Aliyu Mustafa, elevated him to Wazirin Adamawa, the emirate’s highest-ranking counsellor and principal adviser, while his son, Aliyu Atiku Abubakar, was concurrently conferred the Turaki title, effectively continuing a family legacy of service to the emirate. Yet, under the new directive, Atiku, being technically non-indigenous to Yola, would be disqualified from holding that very title, despite the decades-long recognition and responsibilities he has borne in that capacity.

Over the past four decades, Atiku has consistently invested billions of Naira in Yola, building institutions that provide jobs, knowledge, and empowerment to thousands of residents across all walks of life. Among his most visible contributions is the American University of Nigeria (AUN), a world-class institution established in 2003, now hosting hundreds of students and employing over hundreds of academic and administrative staff. Note that it is the first American-style university in Sub-Saharan Africa, situated not in Lagos or Abuja, but in Yola, precisely because Atiku envisioned a centre of excellence in his home state.

He followed this up with the Adama Beverages Company, a large-scale water and fruit drink production facility, which employs over 300 people directly and supports countless more through supply chains and logistics. His Gotel Communications, encompassing television and radio stations, provides vital information to the region and jobs to thousands, far beyond what is visible on paper.

In recent years, he expanded even further, commissioning a woven sack factory with a capacity to produce 9 million units annually, and establishing a microfinance bank to boost local entrepreneurship. His Rico Gado Nutrition plant has also been a steady contributor to food security and employment. These investments are not just capital injections; they are catalysts for entire ecosystems of support businesses; mechanics, drivers, printers, caterers, electricians, petty traders, and more, who survive because of the industries Waziri built.

Altogether, a safe estimate would place Atiku’s investments in Yola alone at a worth of over ₦20 billion, employing more than 5,000 people directly, with thousands more indirectly benefiting from the economic ripple effects. When he first started investing in real estate in Yola’s GRA in the 1970s, there was no political benefit to doing so. It was simply a man building a home in a place he believed in, a city he helped grow into what it is today.

To argue that such a man should be stripped of his traditional title on the basis of geopolitical boundaries is to overlook the spirit of traditional leadership, which is based on service, wisdom, and communal advancement, not just ancestry.

Some supporters of the governor have argued that the decision is administrative, not political. But even if that were true, the consequences are political, cultural, and deeply personal to communities that feel represented by individuals like Atiku. And if such a rule can risk disenfranchising a figure whose loyalty and service to Adamawa are unimpeachable, who then truly qualifies to hold such titles? If there is anyone directly indigeneous to the Fombina Royal Dynasty who has invested 20% of what Atiku Abubakar has in the development of Yola, I will not only rest my case, I will smother it to death. By all means, give him or her the title.

Moreover, one must not ignore the irony that this rule could also affect many title holders who are politically aligned with the governor himself. If fairness is the standard, then surely service, and sacrifice must also be factors.

To remove Waziri from his traditional role would not only be a cultural misstep but a political own-goal for an administration that has itself benefited from his goodwill and support. More critically, such a move may stand at odds with the Nigerian Constitution itself. Section 42(1) of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) expressly prohibits discrimination against any citizen based on “place of origin,” while the Federal Character Commission (FCC) guidelines recognise that any Nigerian who has resided in a community for a continuous period of ten years or more should be considered an indigene for administrative and political purposes. Atiku Abubakar has lived, built, invested, employed, educated, and empowered the people of Yola for over four decades, long before many current title holders were even active in public life. If someone of his record can still be branded a non-indigene, then the question must be asked: Is this directive about heritage, or is it a veiled attempt to rewrite identity in service of something else?

It is important to clarify that this article in no way seeks to undermine or downplay Alhaji Atiku Abubakar’s place of origin, Jada – Ganye, where he held the esteemed traditional title of Sardaunan Ganye (The defender of Ganye). In 2020, he voluntarily relinquished the title, which was subsequently conferred on his eldest son, Adamu Atiku Abubakar, who also serves as a commissioner in the current Adamawa State administration. While some might expect his son to resign in solidarity with his father over the current developments, I do not necessarily share that sentiment. On the contrary, Adamu’s continued service is a quiet reflection of Atiku’s magnanimity, his respect for individual agency and his enduring belief in the right of others, even his own children, to make independent choices, even when those choices come at a personal cost to him.

Titles may be symbolic, but symbols do matter; they reflect who we value, what we honour, and the kind of society we aspire to build. The Adamawa Emirate has historically embraced a multi-ethnic identity, honouring individuals whose service transcends ancestry. Atiku Abubakar’s decades-long investment in Yola, through education, enterprise, and community empowerment, aligns with this tradition of inclusive recognition. This is not a political defence, but a cultural and institutional one: preserving the integrity of a title rooted in service, not just birthplace. If contribution is a valid measure, and it always has been, then Waziri is a title he has earned by deed. Refining the directive to allow for such exceptional service is not only reasonable; it honours the very spirit of the emirate.