As the poverty rate in Northern Nigeria continues to make us uncomfortable, it is time to look inward into ourselves. Since we have the same quality of leadership as southern Nigeria but end up with different economic parameters, it is sensible to look into our communities for clues.
One critical reason behind the poverty rate in Arewa is a large dependency ratio – a high number of unemployed and underemployed adults who need constant help (taimako), but few economically stable people.
If you grew up in a town like me or old cities, and your parents are at least middle class (masu rufin asiri), you are used to ‘ma su neman taimako,’ waiting for your father every morning at his door. As you grow up and become employed, many of these beneficiaries (and now their children) as well as an army of extended family will transfer your parents’ duty to you. The demands continue to be the same – money for food, school fees, and medications for the sick, including women in labor. This will usually amount to 10% of your earnings, or more. I am not saying this doesn’t happen in the south too, but I will return to this later.
Of course, life is most meaningful when one is useful to others, and one should also be glad that they have enough to give out. However, it bothers me that the situation of the poor people in our communities barely changes for decades.
Two huge problems stand in the way of attempts to improve our dependency ratio.
First, a large number of underemployed, unemployed, and unemployable people are reluctant to grow, depending on a few productive people. You would see one person shouldering the basic responsibilities of dozens. Many families (I mean extended families) in the north have a single income source – a big wall, babban bango, of some sort who pays for everything from wedding trousseaus to naming ceremony rams.
Many of our ‘ma su ku’di’ and ‘ma su rufin asiri’ are usually happy with this lethal arrangement as it protects them from ‘zagi.’ Sadly, as soon as the big wall falls or the person’s fortunes decline, big problems erupt. In many cases, even the wife is untrained and thus unable to manage the family’s finances in the absence of the husband or his fortunes.
Second, there is a lack of strategy to end dependence at family and community levels. The alms of food and ‘small change’ hardly remove people from poverty. We have very generous people who give daily but with no plans to lift the level of their beneficiaries. We are also obsessed with ‘a raba kowa ya samu,’ a situation where money as little as 50,000 Naira is shared among 10 people rather than empowering a single person.
There are no easy solutions to sociologically rooted problems, which has necessitated a whole academic field of behavioral economics. However, at individual and community levels, there are a few things we can start changing, and hopefully, the situation will improve.
First, we can cut underemployment by encouraging and enabling people to diversify their income instead of handing out meal tickets. This can start at the family level. A good question we need to ask ourselves always is, ‘in the event of eventualities, is there anyone in our family that can step in?’ This will provoke zeal to replicate successes in families and communities.
Second, there is a need to equip our youth with modern skills that will enable them to create opportunities or compete for high-end jobs. I know of an extended family that organizes an ‘in-house seminar’ annually to shape the perspective of its youth. The 4-day seminar features lectures, talks, and workshops. As a friend of the family, I receive invitations too and benefit a lot from the seminar. An impressive aspect of the seminar is an ‘idea pitch,’ and the winning idea or business gets funds for a start-up. This, if adopted by other families and communities, can transform people. For example, unemployment and underemployment in the north relate to high reliance on government jobs, which are largely unavailable and often underpaid. An average government job pays a graduate 70,000 Naira a month, which hardly covers the bills, forcing the person to rely on a family ‘big wall’ at intervals. Such interventions can also take the form of community-based activities funded by the well-to-do, and the training services can be offered pro bono by skilled members of the community.
Third, families and communities have to start working on uplifting people with their money. We need to revisit the way we give out zakat and sadaqah by pooling the resources for the significant empowerment of a few, rather than giving peanuts to many. This is hard, of course, given the large number of the needy and the social implications involved, but it is truly worth it.
The problem of poverty in Northern Nigeria is solvable. While it is hard for individuals to do the work of the government, it is possible for all of us to harness the limited resources in our possession for a big positive change.
