By Rahima Shehu Dokaji, Kano
For Zaliha Aliyu Umar, erosion has turned life into permanent uncertainty.
“It started as a small hole,” she said. “We didn’t think it would take our home.”
That hole now defines her life. It swallowed her house, reduced her farms to nothing, and forced her family into displacement. She no longer lives where she raised her children or worked the land. She now squats with relatives in Hotoro, in Kano city, surviving on shared food and borrowed space.
Across northern Nigeria, erosion and desertification have reached crisis proportions. According to multiple peer-reviewed studies published on ResearchGate and in the Journal of Agricultural Economics, Environment and Social Sciences, between 50 and 75 percent of land in northern states—including Kano, Katsina, Jigawa, Sokoto, Yobe, Zamfara, Bauchi, Borno, Gombe, and Kebbi—is undergoing desertification and severe land degradation. These studies identify climate change, intense rainfall, deforestation, sandy soil composition, and poor land management as the primary drivers.
In Kano State specifically, research on gully erosion within the metropolis shows gully heads retreating at rates between three and seven metres every year, destroying buildings, roads, and farmlands. Soil loss from active gully systems in urban Kano has been estimated at more than 130,000 cubic metres, while the dominant soil composition—over 73 percent sand—makes the land extremely vulnerable to wash-away during heavy rains.
These scientific findings mirror warnings in the Kano State Climate Change Policy, which identifies erosion, flooding, desertification, and land degradation as some of the most severe climate-related threats facing rural and peri-urban communities. The policy notes that increased rainfall intensity, poor drainage systems, and unregulated land use have worsened gully expansion, particularly in communities lacking engineered erosion-control structures.
This is the broader crisis in Mesar Tudu, a rural community lying between Gezawa and Minjibir Local Government Areas.
At first, it was easy to dismiss—a shallow opening in the earth, close to farmlands, not large enough to frighten anyone. But with every rainy season, floodwaters widened it.
“It engulfed our home,” said Zaliha.
The erosion forced Zaliha and her family to sell their farmland, which was their only source of livelihood, and leave the village entirely.
“We had to search for a home to stay,” she said. “We were devastated because losing your home is not a small issue.”
She described how floods swept away food, belongings, and farming tools. Survival depended on assistance from family and friends. Farming, which once sustained them, disappeared almost overnight.
“I have a very big farm,” she said. “Near it was a small hole—not that big. But because of the flood, it became wide. Now the farm is reduced to just inches.”
Over ten years, she and her husband lost at least four farms.
“How we source food now is by cycling food among ourselves,” she said. “That is what is saving us from hunger.”
The Kano State Climate Change Policy recognises such livelihood losses as a direct outcome of climate-induced land degradation, warning that erosion threatens food security, rural incomes, and social stability. It further states that communities dependent on rain-fed agriculture are the most vulnerable, particularly where early intervention and drainage infrastructure are absent.
The loss has not only been economic. Zaliha says fear and prolonged stress have triggered illness.
“I know a lot of people who suffer from high blood pressure because of fear and sadness,” she said. “They lost their only source of income.”
What angers her most is not the erosion alone but the politics surrounding it.
“During elections, promises were made,” she said. “But none came back to help. I know we will see them again during campaigns.”
Her story reflects a broader governance problem that goes beyond Mesar Tudu. In December 2024, Kano State Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf signed the 2025 budget into law. The budget stood at approximately ₦719.8 billion and was described as a “Budget of Hope, Human Capital and Economic Development.” Capital expenditure accounted for about 64 percent, while recurrent expenditure made up 36 percent.
However, a closer examination of the official 2025 Kano State Budget document shows that allocations specifically tied to environmental protection, erosion control, and desertification mitigation were marginal.
The budget earmarked roughly ₦831 million for erosion and flood control under environmental preservation programmes. Tree planting—identified by both environmental experts and the Kano Climate Change Policy as a key soil-stabilisation and erosion-prevention strategy—received about ₦536 million. Combined, all environmental preservation line items amounted to less than ₦2 billion, approximately 0.25 percent of the entire state budget.
This figure stands in sharp contrast not only to scientific evidence but also to the state’s own climate policy commitments, which call for proactive erosion control, watershed management, drainage construction, and community-level adaptation measures.
For elderly residents like Tabawa Tijjani, erosion has inflicted physical injury.
“There was a time I fell into the ditch and broke my legs,” she said. “I spent three months nursing it. During that time, my husband and I had no means to feed our family. I had to seek help from community members.”
She further reiterated that despite repeated inspections by officials, no permanent solution followed.
“My husband is a farmer,” she said. “But he stopped farming because of erosion. This is four years now.”
Further interviews with residents indicate that government awareness is not in question.
“All our elected representatives have either come themselves or sent people,” said Yahaya Abdulwahab, a resident. He said the gully has existed for about 18 years.
“All our officials from the House of Assembly to the House of Representatives know about this issue,” he said. “But still, nothing was done.”
At one point, the community protested a polio vaccination exercise—not because they opposed health interventions, but to express their anger.
“We told them polio is not our problem. Erosion is,” Yahaya said.
Community’s Frantic Effort to Halt Gully’s Devastating March
Officials acknowledged the problem, but no intervention followed. The community therefore tried to act on its own. Yahaya said they used more than 120 metres of leather and over 100 wheelbarrows of sand to stop the gully from expanding. Unfortunately, rain washed everything away.
“This is beyond us,” he said.
The Kano Climate Change Policy cautions against exactly such stop-gap community responses, noting that erosion control requires engineered drainage systems, land reclamation, and watershed-scale planning—interventions beyond the capacity of rural communities without government support.
The erosion has devastated agriculture. With farmlands destroyed, residents now travel over 30 kilometres to Masaku community just to farm enough to eat.
“We farm only to survive,” he said. “Not to sell.”
Another woman, Aisha, who lost her house and rice farm five years ago, said anger has silenced many victims.
“I didn’t want to speak,” she said. “Nothing happens when we speak.”
During the last rainy season, floodwaters uprooted huge trees. Families had to flee with their children.
For Faiza Aliyu, 38, the erosion erased nearly everything.
“Our house was demolished,” she said. “We have only one room left. That single room shelters my husband, two children, my sister, and her three children. Before rebuilding it, we spent two days homeless. It rained the first day,” she said. “We were outside, drenched, and shivering.”
She estimates her losses at nearly ₦1 million, including savings and furniture.
This has been going on for more than 15 years — Community Head
The Sarkin Fulani of Mesar Tudu, Tijjani Gezawa, who serves as the community leader, said the situation is the community’s biggest challenge.
“This started 15 to 20 years ago,” he said. “There is no government we didn’t submit our plea to, right from 1999 to date.”
He said millions of naira worth of farms have been lost, directly causing food insecurity. Community members pool money to buy sand, but the gully continues expanding from other directions.
He therefore pleaded for drainage construction or proper land reclamation—measures explicitly recommended in the state’s climate policy framework.
Cycle of Loss Playing Out in Mesar Tudu is Not Accidental — Expert
The cycle of loss playing out in Mesar Tudu is not accidental, according to Dr Murtala Uba of Bayero University Kano, who said environmental neglect compounds itself when left unaddressed.
“If you refuse to address an environmental problem, it will continue to grow,” he said. “And when it grows, it leads to more problems.”
He explained that desertification directly undermines land productivity, reducing agricultural output and pushing communities deeper into poverty and malnutrition.
“When land can no longer produce, agricultural turnover reduces. That leads to poverty and malnutrition,” he said. “And when people are poor, they look for other sources of income. Most of those sources are within the environment.”
According to him, this survival pressure often accelerates environmental destruction rather than slowing it.
“People will cut trees to sell as firewood. They will go into hunting. They will clear more land to cultivate. Forests and reserved areas will be encroached upon,” he said. “That leads to even more environmental destruction.”
Dr Uba said the root of the crisis is not only ecological but socio-economic.
“At the centre of solving this problem is empowering people: creating jobs, making life easier for rural communities,” he said. “Development is often taken to urban centres alone, while rural areas are neglected.”
He noted that this imbalance is stark in Kano State.
“Kano State is about 20,000 square kilometres. Urban Kano is just about 400 square kilometres. So, when you look at the size of the metropolis in relation to the rural areas, the difference is clear. Also, urban areas derive most of their resources from rural communities.”
He said neglect has left rural residents poorer and less informed, making environmental recovery harder.
“To prevent further damage, there must be deliberate actions: land restoration, tree planting, and the construction of embankments to control erosion,” he said. “But beyond that, people must be empowered with alternatives.”
Dr Uba warned that environmental restoration alone will fail if livelihoods are not addressed.
“Even if you plant trees and restore the land, if people are still in need, they will return to that land before it recovers,” he said. “So people’s lives have to be positively touched first.”
He stressed that sustainable solutions require research-driven interventions.
“The environment can only be properly addressed by conducting research, identifying the source of the problem, and applying measures that directly respond to it,” he said.
Government is Aware — KN WECCA
Dr Muhammad S. Khalil, Executive Secretary of the Kano State Watershed, Erosion and Climate Change Agency (KN WECCA), acknowledged the situation, adding that in the first quarter of 2025, it had already conducted erosion mapping across all 44 LGAs of the state.
However, according to him, each erosion intervention costs at least ₦150 million, making it impossible to address all sites at once. He said Kano completed two erosion projects in 2025, in Ungoggo and Sumaila LGAs. Communities must submit official letters to trigger intervention.
He cited the case of the Rimi community, where a viral video prompted government action.
The Kano Climate Change Policy acknowledges that delayed intervention significantly increases long-term costs, warning that failure to act early results in wider land loss, displacement, and higher rehabilitation expenses.
This report was published under HumanAngle’s SCOJA Fellowship.
