For Aminu Dantata To Sleep Well…

From the days of trans-Saharan trade to the modern era of economic enterprise, Kano has produced men and women whose names echo across generations. Among such titans was Alhaji Aminu Alhassan Dantata—philanthropist, statesman, industrialist, and the last living link to a generation that built Kano into a towering icon of excellence. His life was a testament to values now waning: dignity, dialogue, discretion, and devotion to community.

But how does one rest in peace when the house they built is in disarray?

Today, Kano is gripped by an unsettling rupture—a traditional institution splintered into two, each throne claiming legitimacy, each emir cloaked in authority, yet contested by the very people meant to uphold the sanctity of the stool. Never before in the proud history of the Kano emirate has such a grotesque duality stained its prestige. This is more than a crisis of identity—it is a betrayal of heritage.

Over the last six years, the state has drifted aimlessly through storms of political vanity, elite feuds, and a tragic erosion of communal cohesion. The spiritual, political, and cultural spine of Kano has been fractured—not by fate, but by the avoidable arrogance of its leaders. Interest groups—both internal and external—have gorged on the flesh of its institutions, leaving behind a state perforated and gasping for harmony.

Ironically, it is in death that Alhaji Aminu Dantata unites the living. His passing at the age of 94 has become the rare occasion where Kano’s fragmented elite—politicians, businessmen, clerics, royals—converged, not in Kano, but in Saudi Arabia, to pay final homage. Their grief, though real, must now transcend sentiment and birth action.

The late elder statesman—whose name is etched in every meaningful page of Northern Nigeria’s post-independence economic evolution—deserves more than eulogies. He deserves that his legacy not be buried with him.

If there is any true tribute these powerful men and women can offer, it is not in the length of their condolence speeches or the size of their delegations. It is in restoring dignity to the emirate, ending the twin-emir debacle, and mending the political and cultural fabric of Kano. That is how Aminu Dantata will sleep well—in peace and in pride.

This is an urgent call for Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, who led the funeral procession to the Holy Land. History has handed him a unique opportunity: to turn grief into grace, to ensure that this moment of collective mourning births a renaissance of reconciliation.

Let this death be the turning point. Let the Kano elite, now reunited by sorrow, become agents of resolution. Let the politics of ego give way to the politics of elders. For only then can Aminu Dantata’s soul find the repose he earned—and Kano, once again, find its compass.

Critically musing